Eva wasn't going to argue with him. She couldn't.
Eva knew she had surrendered the last shred of her freedom the day she chose to spare his life. He wasn't doing anything unexpected or out of line—this was exactly what the bond of servitude was.
It wasn't some fairy tale or a misguided sense of partnership. It was raw, absolute control, a pact she had willingly bound herself to.
As harsh as it was, this was her reality. The truth of their relationship might have felt like hell, but it was undeniable.
Eva lowered her gaze, unable to meet his piercing eyes. Her voice, barely more than a whisper, broke the silence. "I know."
For a moment, Xylon didn't respond. His eyes followed hers, narrowing slightly as though trying to decipher the unfamiliar calm in her admission.
She wasn't fighting, wasn't deflecting. For once, she wasn't arguing against the shape of what they were.
That lack of resistance unsettled him.
