The reality of it sits like a stone in my chest. No matter how kind he's been, no matter how much I want to believe the careful distance he's maintained means something, the legal truth is inescapable. I'm his property. He could demand anything from me and I'd have no choice but to comply.
The contract gives him power over every aspect of my life. Where I go. What I do. Who I see. Whether I stay or leave or breathe without permission.
How am I supposed to just... get over that?
How am I supposed to look at him and not see the cage his ownership represents, even if he never actually uses it?
I told myself I wouldn't let this happen. Told myself I'd keep my walls up, that I'd protect my heart from getting tangled up in impossible situations. That I'd never be stupid enough to fall for a dark elf who could own me.
And yet here I am.
Feeling like my chest is splitting open every time I see him. Every time I hear his voice through the door when he asks—never demands, always asks—if I'm alright. If I need anything. If we can please just talk.
I hate how much I want to say yes.
Movement draws my attention back to the bed. Valas shifts, his breathing changing from the slow rhythm of sleep to something sharper, more ragged. His fingers twitch against the blanket. Magic sparks at his fingertips—brief flashes of violet light that illuminate his knuckles before fading.
A nightmare.
I should leave. Should go back to my room and pretend I wasn't standing here watching him sleep like some kind of?—
He jerks hard enough that Amisra stirs. A soft whimper escapes her and my feet are moving before I can think better of it.
I cross the room in near-silence, my hand reaching for his shoulder on instinct. The same instinct that used to guide me when children in my care had bad dreams, when they needed someone to pull them back from whatever darkness they'd fallen into.
"Valas." I keep my voice low, gentle. My palm settles against the curve of his shoulder and I feel the tension coiled through him, the way his muscles are locked tight with whatever he's seeing behind his closed eyes. "Hey. Wake up."
His eyes snap open—violet irises catching the moonlight, unfocused and wild for a heartbeat before clarity filters back in. He takes a sharp breath, then another, his gaze finding mine in the dimness.
For a moment we just stare at each other. I'm acutely aware of my hand still resting on his shoulder, of how close I'm standing to the bed, of the fact that this is the first time I've willingly touched him since learning about the contract.
Then he carefully extracts himself from Amisra's embrace, sliding out of the bed with practiced care. She doesn't wake, just curls into the warm space he left behind and keeps sleeping.
He gestures toward the door.
I follow him into the hallway, pulling Amisra's door closed until only a crack remains. Enough to hear if she calls out but giving us privacy for whatever this conversation is about to become.
The hallway feels smaller with both of us in it. Valas stands close enough that I could reach out and touch him again if I wanted to. Close enough that I can see the exhaustion carved into his features, the grief still raw in his eyes, the way his hands shake slightly before he clasps them behind his back.
"I never wanted this." The words rush out before I can turn away, before I can retreat back to the safety of distance and walls. He looks like he's barely holding himself together. "The contract, Keira. I never wanted to own you. I didn't even know Daryn had structured his will that way until the k'sheng read it. He told me he needed me to take care of Amisra and he wanted you to stay. But I didn't realize he made it that way. I swear to you, I had no idea."
I want to believe him. Gods, Iwantto. But wanting and trusting are different things, and I've learned the hard way not to confuse the two.
"It doesn't matter if you wanted it." My voice comes out quieter than I intended, but steady. "You have it now. You own me."
I've thought about it so much. About how Daryn begged me to understand. Now, I get why he asked that.
I do understand why he did it. But that doesn't change how I feel right now.
"No." He shakes his head, something fierce sparking in his expression. "I don't care what some piece of parchment says. I don't care about titles or legal ownership or any of that political garbage the k'sheng spouts. If you want to walk away from me—if you want to leave this house, leave Pyrthos, go whereveryou please—you can. And I will never punish you for it. Do you understand? Never."
The intensity in his voice makes my breath catch. He takes a step closer and I don't move back, even though every instinct screams at me to protect myself.
"I tookmonthsto get to know you." His hands lift like he wants to reach for me, then drop back to his sides like he doesn't trust himself to touch. "Months of being careful, of going slow, of making sure you never felt forced or pressured or obligated. Because I didn't want your compliance. I wantedyou. I wanted you to choose this—choose us—because you actually wanted it, not because you had no other option."
"Valas—"
"Can't you see that?" There's desperation threading through his words now, cracking the careful control he usually maintains. "Can't you see that I don't give a damn about contracts or ownership or power? All I want is to have you by my side. All I want is to keep Amisra safe and figure out how to build something good from this wreckage Daryn left us with. Contract or not, you have a room here. You have a place with that little girl. You have?—"
