Chapter 17
Ikissed Croesus last night.
The memory is a tingling frisson through me. His mouth on mine. His hands in my hair. His voice saying mine while I said yes like I meant it.
I did mean it. That’s the problem.
I press my palms to my eyes. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking, that’s the issue. I was exhausted and hollow and so desperate for comfort that I let an angel who owns me for a year kiss me like I belonged to him.
And I kissed him back.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach for it automatically, then freeze when I see the screen.
Reminder: Weekly call with Luna - Today
Right. It’s been a week. Another week gone to this place. To this angel.
The realization makes me feel sick.
I check the time, barely past eight. Luna’s an early riser, especially on weekends when she goes trail running before the sun gets too hot. She’ll be awake.
I find the phone Croesus finally sent a minion to install in my room. Since my cell hasn’t worked as a phone since I arrived.
She picks up on the second ring. “Raven! I was just thinking about you.”
Her voice, bright and warm and completely, blissfully normal, makes my chest ache.
“Hey, kid. How’s school?”
“Crazy.” I can hear her moving around, probably getting ready for her run. “I have two papers due next week and a practical lab on Wednesday, but it’s fine. Sarah and I are doing a study group thing.” She pauses. “How’s the consulting job? You sound tired.”
“Long hours. Demanding client.” Not a lie. “But I’m managing.”
“Are you eating? Sleeping? You always forget to take care of yourself when you’re stressed.”
“Yes, Mom.” I smile despite everything. “I’m taking care of myself. Promise.”
“Good.” More rustling. “Oh! Remember that guy from my chemistry lab? The one who asked for my number?”
“The cute one?”
“That’s the one. We went for coffee yesterday. He’s really sweet, Raven. Like, genuinely nice. He volunteers at an animal shelter on weekends and wants to go into veterinary medicine.” She’s talking fast now, excited. “We’re going hiking next Saturday. Nothing serious, just nice, you know?”
I close my eyes. She’s nineteen and going on coffee dates and thinking about hiking with a boy who volunteers at animal shelters. She’s living exactly the life I wanted for her—normal, bright, full of possibility.
And I’m in a pocket dimension owned by a fallen angel, who kissed me last night and called me his.
“That’s great, Luna, really. I’m happy for you.”
“You okay? You sound weird.”
“Just tired.” I force my voice lighter. “Tell me more about the hike. Where are you going?”
She launches into a description of a trail system north of campus, talking about elevation changes and scenic overlooks and whether she needs new hiking boots. I listen, letting her voice wash over me and take me home. This is why I’m here. This is what I’m protecting.
She talks for twenty minutes about classes and friends and the campus environmental group and the cute boy and all the small, mundane, beautiful details of a normal life.
When she finally winds down, there’s a pause. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, kid. So much.”
“When does your contract end? When can you come visit?”
One year. Or I guess, eleven or so months now.
Except last night, I told Croesus I belonged to him. And he said, forever.
“Not for a while,” I say. “But I’ll call you every week. Same as always.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Take care of yourself, Raven. Seriously. You sound like you’re running on fumes.”
“I’m fine. I promise.”
We say goodbye. I hang up. Sit there in the golden light that isn’t real, holding the phone, trying not to cry.
She’s happy. She’s safe. She’s living the life I gave up everything to give her.
That’s what matters.
That’s the only thing that matters.
I spent the rest of the morning in the library, avoiding Croesus and trying to lose myself in research.
Nat found me around noon, carrying two plates of food that appeared from wherever food appears in this house. He sets one in front of me without comment.
“You look like hell,” he says, settling into the chair across from me.
“Thanks. You’re a real charmer.”
“I’m honest. There’s a difference.” He takes a bite of what looks like perfectly prepared salmon. “Heard you broke a seven-year pride contract yesterday. That true?”
“News travels fast.”
“Croesus told me. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” Nat’s hazel eyes study me. “Are you?”
“I’m fine.”
He gives me that look, the one that says he can see through the lie but won’t call me on it. “You've got a new tattoo.”
I glance down at my arm. The forty-sixth, silver and delicate, stands out against the others. “Yeah.”
“Seven years is a long time to hold pride.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Most sin eaters wouldn’t have survived that absorption. The fact that you purged it alone...” He shakes his head. “You’re stronger than you think.”
“Or more stubborn.”
“Those are the same thing, in your case.” He nods at the untouched food in front of me. “Eat. You need it.”
I pick at the salmon, forcing myself to take a few bites. It’s perfectly cooked, seasoned exactly right, probably worth more than my weekly grocery budget used to be. It tastes like ash.
“Can I ask you something?” I say after a while.
“Depends on the question.”
“How do you know when you’re changing? When this place is changing you into something you’re not?”
Nat is quiet for a long time. Then: “You don’t.
Not really. It’s gradual. Insidious. One day you wake up and realize you’ve been here so long you can’t remember what your old life felt like.
Can’t remember who you were before the gold and the contracts and the endless service.
” He meets my eye. “Why? You feeling different?”
I think about last night. About kissing Croesus. About saying I belong to him and some small part of me meaning it—wanting it.
“Yeah, I’m feeling differently.”
“That’s normal. This place gets to you. Under your skin. Makes you forget what normal looks like.” He leans back. “But you’re only a few weeks in. A month? You haven’t lost yourself yet. You can still get out with most of yourself intact.”
“What if I don’t want to get out?”
The words surprise me as much as they surprise him. But once they’re out there, hanging in the air between us, I realize they’re true. Part of me doesn’t want to leave. Doesn’t want to go back to my shitty apartment and barely paying clients and constant struggle to survive.
Part of me wants to stay here. In the gold. With Croesus.
God, what’s wrong with me?
“Then you’re more lost than you think,” Nat says gently. “And you need to figure out why you want to stay before it’s too late to leave.”
I wait until midnight to call Ash.
Not because I’m trying to hide it, though I am technically breaking rules by contacting anyone outside without permission, but because I need the house to be quiet. Need to be sure Croesus won’t walk in and catch me talking to another man less than twenty-four hours after kissing him.
After telling him I belonged to him.
I sit on my bed, door locked, and dial Ash’s number with shaking hands.
He picks up on the first ring. “Hello.”
“Hey,” I whisper, choked up.
“Raven? Jesus Christ, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” The lie comes automatically. “Just checking in.”
“Checking in? It’s been weeks. I’ve been going out of my mind wondering if you were dead.” His voice is tight with worry. “Where are you?”
“The House of Gold. I told you.”
“I know where you are. I meant, are you okay? Are they hurting you? Do you need me to come and get you? Get you free?”
“Ash, stop.” I take a breath. “I’m fine. I’m safe. I’m just...working. Breaking contracts. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” He doesn’t believe me. “Raven, you sound exhausted. You sound like you’re barely holding it together. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. I’m just tired. Absorbed a big sin yesterday, seven years of pride. It took a lot out of me.”
“Seven years?” His tone shifts from worried to alarmed. “Raven, that could have killed you. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking it needed to be done. And I did it. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. I can hear it in your voice.” A pause. “Is he treating you well? Croesus?”
The question makes my stomach twist. Is he treating me well? He owns me. Makes me break contracts and steal souls. Calls me his.
“He’s...complicated,” I say finally.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer I have.” I run a hand through my hair. “Look, I can’t talk long. I’m not supposed to be calling you. I just wanted to let you know I’m alive.”
“Raven...”
“I have to go.”
“Wait.” His voice softens. “Are you coming back? After the year? Are you coming home?”
Home. To my shitty apartment with the water stains and the broken heater. The ritual room carved from a closet. The life where I barely scrape by and every contract is a risk and I’m always one bad absorption away from dying alone on my floor.
Is that home? Or is home becoming this place, the House of Gold with its impossible architecture and its angel who looks at me like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted and can’t have?
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
Silence on the other end for too long. “Jesus, Raven. What’s he done to you?”
“Nothing. He hasn’t done anything. I’m just...” I stop. Take a breath. “I’m just tired, Ash. That’s all. I need to go.”
“Raven, wait.”
I hang up.
Sit there in the dark, holding the phone, feeling like the worst person in the world.
Ash deserves better than this. Better than my calling him at midnight just to confirm I’m alive before hanging up without explanation. Better than whatever mess I’m becoming.
Luna deserves better too. Deserves a sister who isn’t slowly forgetting what normal looks like. Who isn’t starting to prefer gold over daylight.
And I deserve... what? To be owned by an angel for a year? To kiss him back and mean it? To tell him I belong to him and feel relief instead of horror?
I don’t know anymore.
I don’t know anything except that I’m changing, and I can’t figure out if I’m becoming who I’m meant to be or losing who I was.
Maybe they’re the same thing.
I don’t sleep well. Keep waking up from dreams where I’m drowning in gold, where chains wrap around me, and I can’t tell if they’re trapping me or holding me together.
At around three in the morning, I give up and go to the library.
Nat is there. He looks up from his book when I enter, takes one look at my face, and closes it.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Something like that.” I sink into the chair across from him. “How do you do it? A hundred years of this. How do you stay yourself?”
“Honestly?” He leans back. “I’m not sure I have. The person I was in 1924? He’s gone. Dead. I’m what’s left after a century of service, the parts that were too stubborn to die.”
“That’s depressing.”
“That’s the truth.” He studies me. “You called someone tonight. Someone outside.”
I freeze. “How did you…“
“I can see lies, remember? And guilt. You’re wrapped in it.” He doesn’t sound judgmental, just tired. “Does Croesus know?”
“No.”
“He will. He always knows eventually. The House tells him things.” Nat tilts his head. “Who was it?”
“A friend.”
“Does he know about Croesus?”
“There’s nothing to know about Croesus.” But my voice wavers.
“Right.” Nat’s expression is knowing. “That’s why you look like you’re being torn in half. Because there’s nothing to know.”
“I’m not...” I stop. Take a breath. “Last night, after I purged the pride. Croesus and I...we kissed. And I told him I belong to him.”
The words hang in the air. Nat doesn’t react with shock or judgment. Just nods slowly, like this makes sense.
“And now you feel guilty,” he says. “Because you have someone waiting for you outside. Because you’re supposed to hate Croesus, not be involved in whatever this is.”
“I don’t know what this is.”
“Yes, you do.” He leans forward. “You’re falling for him. Or you’ve already fallen. And you’re terrified because that means you’re losing the fight. Losing yourself. Becoming the person who belongs to an angel instead of fighting to get free.”
“I’m not falling for him.”
“You’re lying. To me and to yourself.” Nat’s voice is gentle. “Look, I get it. Croesus is... compelling. Powerful. And when someone that powerful pays attention to you, really sees you, it’s intoxicating. Makes you feel like maybe being owned isn’t so bad if it means being wanted.”
“That’s not what...”
“It is. I’ve seen it happen a hundred times.
People come here intending to serve their time and leave.
But Croesus gets under their skin. Makes them forget why they wanted to leave in the first place.
” He meets my eye. “The difference is, most of them don’t have anyone waiting for them outside.
You do. And you’re going to have to choose. ”
“There’s nothing to choose. I’m here for a year. Then I leave. That’s the deal.”
“Is it?” Nat stands. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re already halfway to staying. And Croesus knows it. That’s why he kissed you. That’s why he called you his. He’s claiming you before you even realize you’re his to claim.”
He leaves me there, alone with his words and my guilt and the truth I don’t want to face.
I look at the forty-sixth tattoo on my arm. Trace the silver spot with my finger. Forty-six contracts broken. Forty-six sins absorbed. Forty-six times I’ve survived what could have killed me.
But this, falling for the angel who owns me—might be what finally breaks me.
I go back to bed.
This time when I dream, Croesus is there. His hands in my hair. His mouth on my mouth. His voice saying mine like it’s the only truth that matters.
And in the dream, I don’t pull away.
I lean in.