Chapter 16 #2
Not just politics. Religion. Fanatics who thought they had divine right to claim her.
“If the wrong male decides you’re a blessing meant for him.
..” Ari’s voice dropped to barely a whisper.
“You won’t survive it. Sylas might be possessive and terrifying and a dozen other things you hate, but he’s also the only thing standing between you and creatures who’d tear you apart fighting over divine scraps. ”
Elsa’s throat tightened. The collar felt different now—less like a brand and more like armor. Flimsy, insufficient armor, but armor nonetheless.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because no one told me.” Ari released her wrist, leaning back against the carved stone.
“When Ryxin claimed me, I thought he was the threat. Spent days plotting escape, fighting every small surrender, making myself miserable over things I couldn’t change.
” Something flickered in her expression—old pain, carefully buried.
“I didn’t understand that he was also protection.
Not until one of his knights tried to take me while Ryxin was away on patrol. ”
“What happened?”
“Ryxin found out.” Ari’s smile was thin, sharp. “That knight doesn’t exist anymore.”
The casual violence of it should have horrified Elsa. Instead, it settled into her understanding of this place like another piece of a terrible puzzle. Possession as protection. Claiming as defense. A world where belonging to a monster was safer than belonging to no one.
Elsa’s fingers found the collar again, tracing its edge. The question burned in her throat—the one she’d been avoiding since she’d seen Ari walking calmly at Ryxin’s side, dressed in silk and silver like something precious rather than something conquered.
“How does he treat you?” The words came out rougher than she meant to. “Ryxin. Is it...is being a pet just a word, or is it—”
She couldn’t finish. Couldn’t voice what Sylas had done last night, his tongue mapping her skin while she lay still and uncertain beneath him. The intimacy that wasn’t quite violence but wasn’t quite consent either.
Ari’s expression shifted. Understanding flickered there—too knowing, too complete.
“You’re asking if they see us as companions or as...entertainment.”
“Yes.”
“Both.” Ari’s voice dropped, careful now.
“Neither. It depends on the male, and it depends on the day.” She smoothed a fold of her burgundy gown, the gesture almost nervous.
“Ryxin...he’s possessive. Territorial. He wants me close, wants my scent in his space, wants to know I’m his in ways that go beyond what the word ‘pet’ implies. ”
Elsa’s pulse kicked up. “And you let him?”
“I stopped fighting battles I couldn’t win.
” Ari met her gaze directly. “The first night, I tried to run. He caught me before I reached the corridor. Didn’t hurt me—just carried me back to his chambers and held me until I stopped struggling.
” She sighed. “He held me all night. Didn’t do anything else.
Just...held me. Like I was something that might break if he wasn’t careful. ”
The parallel hit too close. Sylas’s arms around her, his muzzle pressed to her hair, his beast purring while she lay awake wondering what she’d become.
“But it’s become more than that,” Elsa pressed. “Hasn’t it? More than just...holding.”
Ari’s cheeks flushed—a human reaction that looked almost foreign after days of nothing but wolfmen and their unreadable expressions.
“He calls me his pet. Treats me like property in public.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.
“But in private...he asks. Not always with words, but he asks. And he stops when I say stop.” She shook her head slightly.
“I don’t know what that makes us. I don’t know if there’s a word for it in either of our languages.
But it’s not—” She hesitated. “It’s not what I expected. Not what I feared.”
He asks.
Sylas hadn’t asked. Had told her to lie still, to not talk, to let him do what he needed while she processed the weight of his confession. His need. His weakness disguised as dominance.
But he hadn’t forced more than that. Hadn’t taken what his size and strength would have made easy to take.
“They’re not human,” Ari continued, softer now.
“Their rules are different. Their instincts, their drives—none of it maps onto what we know. But underneath all the fur and fangs...” She trailed off, something almost tender crossing her features.
“They’re still capable of care. It just looks different than we expect. ”
The guards shifted, signaling something Elsa couldn’t interpret. Their moment of privacy was ending.
“The ceremony,” Elsa said, forcing her voice steady. “What should I expect?”
“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—he will come.”
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.”