Four days since Daryn died. Four days since I learned I own Keira's contract. Four days since both of them locked themselves away and refuse to even look at me.
The irony would be funny if it didn't feel like my chest is caving in.
I wanted Keira to choose me. Spent months being careful, being patient, making sure she understood that I saw her as a person, not property. That I wanted her because of who she is, not what she is. I thought—gods, I actually thought we were building something real. Something that transcended the ugliness of our world.
Then Daryn's will turned me into exactly what I swore I'd never be.
Her owner.
Another dark elf who uses her humanity against her.
I sit in the garden behind the house, the same spot where Daryn and I used to share drinks and terrible jokes while Amisra played in the grass. The stone bench is cold beneath me despite the afternoon sun. Everything feels cold now. Like Daryn took all the warmth with him when he left.
My best friend is dead.
The thought hits fresh every time, like a blade sliding between my ribs. I keep expecting him to walk out here, to drop onto the bench beside me with that weary smile and ask what philosophical crisis I'm having today. He'd make some cutting remark about my dramatics, then somehow manage to make me laugh anyway.
But he's gone.
And I don't know how to do this without him.
How am I supposed to raise Amisra? How am I supposed to navigate this disaster with Keira? How am I supposed to justexistin a world where Daryn isn't here to ground me, to tell me when I'm being an idiot, to remind me that not everything can be fixed with enough determination and healing magic?
I couldn't save him.
I tried. Gods know I tried. Spent every waking moment researching, consulting with other healers, attempting experimental spells that should have been beyond my skill level. I pushed myself until I could barely stand, until my magic felt raw and scraped-out, until Daryn himself had to order me to rest.
None of it mattered.
The sickness still ate through him, still drained him day by day until there was nothing left. Until I had to watch him die in my arms while Keira held his hand and Amisra slept, oblivious to the fact that she'd wake up without a father.
I know that I couldn't have done anything. I know that deep down. I don't let the blame taint me, at least.
But it doesn't change that we lost him.
It doesn't change any of our suffering.
My hands shake as I press my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the burning behind them. I haven't slept properly in days. Can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see Daryn's face in those final moments. Hear the rattle of his last breath. Feel the exact second when his magic—that bright, familiar spark—finally went dark.
And beneath that grief sits the pain of losing Keira.
She won't see me. Won't speak to me. I've tried knocking on Amisra's door at least twice a day, hoping she'll just give me a chance to explain. To tell her that I never wanted this, that I'm going to dissolve the contract as soon as the legalities allow, that nothing between us needs to change.
But she won't answer.
And when I hear her voice through the door—that careful, professional tone she uses to dismiss me—it's like being cut all over again. She's retreated behind walls I spent months helping her tear down, and I have no idea how to reach her now.
Maybe I shouldn't try. Maybe she's right to keep her distance.
Because the brutal truth is that Idoown her contract. No matter my intentions, no matter what I plan to do about it, right now she's legally bound to me. To my household. She has to do whatever I say, and if I push too hard, if I demand to see her...
She'd have no choice but to comply.
The thought makes me sick.
I wanted her to choose me. To wake up one morning and realize she wanted this—wantedus—as much as I did. I wanted to earn her trust, her affection, her heart. Wanted her to look at me and see someone worth choosing, not someone who holds power over her.
Instead, I'm the monster she always feared I'd become.
