“Tedium, mostly. Formal declarations in their language—the translator will handle it, but the cadence is different. Slower. More ritualistic.” Ari’s posture shifted, becoming more businesslike. “You’ll be presented after the tribute ceremonies. Sylas will probably make you kneel. Accept it. Don’t show defiance—not tonight. Save that for private battles you might actually win.”
“And after?”
“After, you go back to his chambers and survive until morning.” Ari stood, smoothing her gown. “One day at a time. That’s how you get through this. Stop thinking about next month or next year. Just focus on surviving the next hour.”
The guards shifted, signaling something Elsa couldn’t interpret. Ari offered her hand, helping Elsa rise.
“One more thing.” The other woman’s voice dropped, urgent now. “The collar protects you, but it also marks you. Every male in that room will know you’re Sylas’s. Most will respect that. But there are always a few who see claiming marks as challenges instead of warnings.”
“What do I do if—”
“You scream.” Ari’s grip tightened. “Loud as you can. Sylas will hear you. He’ll come.” Her golden-brown eyes held Elsa’s. “Whatever else he is, whatever you think of him—hewillcome.”
The certainty in her voice was absolute. Born from experience, maybe. Or from watching Ryxin respond to threats against his own pet.
These males weren’t protectors in any human sense. They were predators who’d claimed territory and would destroy anything that tried to take it.
Including her.
The realization should have been horrifying. Instead, it felt almost like relief—a simplification of the impossible complexity she’d been drowning in. Sylas wasn’t her ally. Wasn’t her friend. Wasn’t anything she could trust in the ways that word meant back on Earth.
But he was hers. In the same way she was his. Two creatures bound by circumstance and chemistry and a scent that had nothing to do with either of them.
The enemy of my enemy...
The guards gestured toward the corridor’s end, where the sounds of gathering crowds had grown louder. The ceremony was beginning. Sylas would be expecting her.
Elsa touched the collar one more time—that thin silver circle that marked her as claimed, as owned, as something too valuable to destroy.
Protection disguised as possession.
She could work with that.
“Thank you,” she said to Ari. “For the warning.”
“Thank me by surviving.” The other woman’s smile was grim. “We humans have to look out for each other. There’s no one else who will.”
17
Elsa
The chain was cold against her collarbone.
Elsa stood frozen as Sylas threaded the delicate silver links through the loop at the front of her collar, his claws clicking softly against metal with each precise movement. The chain itself was thin—decorative, almost—but the weight of it settled into her bones like iron.
A leash. He was putting her on a leash.
“This is necessary.” His voice came low, pitched for her ears alone despite the guards stationed at the chamber’s entrance. “The court needs to see you controlled. Claimed beyond question.”
“You already collared me.”
“The collar marks ownership.” He tested the chain’s give, tugging gently. The pressure at her throat was minimal—a suggestion rather than a demand. “This markssubmission. There’s a difference.”
Elsa’s fingers twitched at her sides. The gray silk gown whispered against her legs, foreign and confining, and the collarsuddenly felt tighter than it had moments before. She’d thought she understood what tonight would cost her. She’d been wrong.
“And after?” The question scraped out rougher than intended. “After I’ve demonstrated mysubmissionfor your court—what then?”
Sylas’s cyan eyes held hers. Something flickered in their depths—guilt, maybe, or the shadow of it. Gone before she could name it.