RETURN surged like a prayer answered.
Astra forced herself not to flinch. She kept her eyes on Dorian's.
Dorian's voice dropped. "Tell me what you see."
Astra smiled faintly. "Nothing."
Dorian's fingers pressed a fraction harder.
Pain flared—then dulled as the reservoir swallowed it again.
RESERVOIR: 51%WARNING: INSTABILITY RISK
Dorian's eyes gleamed. "You're lying."
Astra's voice stayed light. "Prove it."
Dorian studied her for a long beat. Then he withdrew his hand.
He turned to the crestwright. "Increase audit pressure."
The crestwright hesitated. "My lord, the reservoir is already—"
Dorian didn't raise his voice. "Do it."
The silver band on Astra's wrist cooled to ice. A pulse ran through it—sharp, invasive, like a needle of law sliding under her skin.
Pain surged toward her nerves in a wave.
Astra's vision went white at the edges.
The reservoir drank.
RESERVOIR: 63%
Astra's body trembled. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Blood filled her mouth, grounding her.
She refused to scream.
Dorian watched her with calm fascination. "There it is."
Astra's lungs fought for air. "What."
Dorian's gaze narrowed. "Your pain pattern is wrong. The collar can't find its satisfaction. It's learning around you."
Astra swallowed blood. "So you're… training it."
Dorian smiled. "I'm teaching it to catch you."
Kael moved one inch closer to Astra, instinctive and stupid and human. His hand twitched as if to steady her.
He stopped himself before touch.
Consent, yes.
But also fear of what Dorian would do if Kael touched her.
Dorian's gaze flicked to Kael's hand.
A smile.
A handle, tightening.
"Kael," Dorian said softly. "Touch her."
Kael went still.
Astra's breath caught.
Dorian's tone stayed calm, conversational. "Your authority soothes her collar. I want to see how much."
Kael's jaw flexed. "My lord—"
Dorian's voice sharpened without volume. "Touch her."
Kael's wrist crest glowed.
The leash tightened.
Astra saw the struggle in Kael's eyes—rage against obedience, desire against discipline, fear against duty.
Kael lifted his hand.
Slow.
Controlled.
He hovered near Astra's throat, two fingers poised.
He did not touch until Astra looked at him.
Astra met his gaze.
And in that gaze she made something clear without words:
If you touch, it's because I allow it. Not because he ordered it.
Kael's eyes flickered—understanding, gratitude, fury.
Astra nodded once.
Kael touched her throat.
Two fingers, feather-light, just below the collar's sigil.
The contact sent a shock through Astra that had nothing to do with the collar.
Warmth.
Familiarity.
A strange, dangerous sense of being seen by someone who wasn't trying to turn her into a tool.
Her collar pulsed.
Not with greed.
With confusion.
Her interface flickered wildly.
AUTHORITY SIGNAL: KAEL RAITHECOLLAR RESPONSE: MODULATEDRECALL PATH: JITTERINGAUDIT LOCK: 66% → 64%
Astra's breath hitched.
The audit lock… dropped.
Not much.
But it moved.
Kael felt it too. His fingers stayed steady, but his eyes sharpened.
Dorian's smile widened slowly. "Oh."
Astra's chest tightened.
Dorian's voice turned soft, delighted. "You are a door."
He stepped closer, gaze bouncing between Astra's throat and Kael's fingers. "Kael, your touch interferes with recall. Fascinating."
Kael's jaw tightened. "My authority is registered."
Dorian's eyes gleamed. "No. This isn't registration."
He leaned in, voice low enough to feel like a secret. "This is attachment."
Kael's fingers twitched, almost pulling away.
Astra's breath caught.
She wanted him to stay.
She wanted him to pull away.
Both impulses felt like chains.
Dorian straightened and gestured to the crestwright. "Stop the pressure."
The silver band warmed back to neutral. The invasive pulse faded.
Astra's body sagged a fraction in the chair. The reservoir still throbbed inside her, overfilled with borrowed pain that hadn't yet demanded payment.
RESERVOIR: 65%
Dorian circled behind Astra's chair, slow as a predator who didn't need to rush.
"Astra," he said, voice near her ear without touching. "You have something in your vision that no one else can see."
Astra stared straight ahead. "You don't know that."
Dorian smiled. "I know you released a command without a mouth."
Astra's throat tightened.
Dorian's voice softened. "Tell me what you see, and I'll spare you the audit knives."
Astra let out a small laugh. "You'll never spare me anything."
Dorian's hand rested lightly on the chair back, close enough that Astra could feel heat through wood. "I will spare you waste."
Astra swallowed. The difference mattered.
Dorian continued, calm and patient. "You want control. I want access. We can trade."
Kael's fingers left Astra's throat gently, like stepping away from something sacred. His hand dropped to his side.
Astra missed the warmth instantly, and hated herself for it.
Dorian's gaze flicked to Kael's withdrawal, pleased.
"A bargain," Astra rasped.
Dorian's voice purred. "Yes."
Astra's mind raced. Bargains were better than knives. Bargains created clauses. Clauses created hinges. Hinges created escape.
"What do you want," she asked.
Dorian stepped back into her line of sight. "Honesty. Cooperation. And a demonstration."
Astra's mouth went dry. "Of what."
Dorian's eyes gleamed. "Of your interface."
Astra's pulse hammered. If she admitted it, the audit would become surgery. If she denied it, he would escalate until her body broke.
She needed a third option.
A lie that looked like truth.
Astra glanced at the crestwrights. "Remove the band."
The crestwright stiffened. "My lord—"
Dorian's hand lifted. Silence.
Dorian studied Astra. "Why."
Astra kept her voice steady. "If you want a demonstration, don't anchor me to your net. You're biasing the result."
Dorian's smile deepened.
Clever was attractive in the Dominion's ugliest way.
He nodded once. "Remove it."
The crestwright hesitated, then unclipped the silver band from Astra's wrist. The cold contact vanished.
Astra's interface pulsed.
CONTAINMENT LINK: DISENGAGEDAUDIT LOCK: 68% (UNSTABLE)TRACE: 12.1%
The room felt slightly less heavy, like the air had been permitted to move again.
Dorian gestured toward the chair straps—there weren't any. "Stand."
Astra rose slowly. The collar tugged her posture into obedience. She allowed it, careful not to fight the command directly.
Dorian watched her. "Now."
Astra's mind sharpened.
She couldn't show him everything. But she could show him enough to make him confident. And confidence made men sloppy.
Astra lifted her hands slowly, palms open—clear, deliberate. Consent wasn't a gift to Dorian. It was a weapon she used to control the frame.
"I see… rules," she said. "Clauses. Numbers."
Dorian's gaze intensified. "Show me."
Astra's throat tightened.
Show him how? She couldn't project the interface. She couldn't prove it without describing something only he knew.
Unless…
She looked at Kael's wrist crest.
Then at Dorian.
She chose a measured, risky truth—because partial truths were harder to punish.
"I see your recall command," Astra said softly. "When you call me."
The room went very still.
Dorian smiled slowly. "And what does it say."
Astra swallowed. "Return."
Dorian's eyes gleamed, satisfied. "Good."
Astra continued, voice low, careful. "I also see… audit pressure."
One of the crestwrights shifted, eyes widening.
Dorian lifted his hand to stop them from speaking. He kept his gaze on Astra. "And does it frighten you."
Astra let her mouth curve. "Everything frightens me. I just decide what I do anyway."
Dorian's smile sharpened into something that could have been admiration if it wasn't so hungry.
"Excellent," he murmured.
Kael's voice cut in—controlled, but tight. "My lord. Don't."
Dorian didn't look at him. "Don't what."
Kael's jaw flexed. "Don't push her reservoir."
Dorian's eyes flicked to Kael at last. "And why not."
Kael's voice dropped. "Because she'll dump it."
Dorian's smile widened. "Good."
Astra's stomach sank.
He wanted it.
Of course he did.
Dorian looked back to Astra. "You've stored pain, Astra. I want to see where it goes when you break."
Astra's throat burned. The reservoir thrashed as if it understood it had been named.
RESERVOIR: 66%WARNING: DUMP THRESHOLD UNKNOWN
Astra forced her face calm. "If I dump it, you'll damage your asset."
Dorian's voice stayed soft. "I will learn its limits."
Astra's nails bit into her palm.
Dorian stepped closer and lifted his hand again toward her throat. Not touching. Hovering.
"You will do it for me," he said.
The collar tightened in anticipation.
Astra's body trembled, not from fear alone—rage, heat, the storm of being ordered to break for someone's curiosity.
Kael moved closer again, one careful pace. "My lord—"
Dorian's gaze snapped to Kael. "Stand back."
Kael's wrist crest flared.
His body locked.
Astra's chest tightened.
Dorian smiled, satisfied, and turned his attention fully back to Astra. "Now," he murmured, "show me."
Astra saw the trap clearly.
If she dumped the pain, she'd lose control and spike trace. The audit would lock. Containment would tighten. She'd be dissected.
If she refused, the collar would punish her until she broke anyway—only slower.
So she reached for what the Dominion never understood:
The difference between breaking and choosing to break.
Astra inhaled once, slow and steady.
She looked at Dorian. "I'll show you," she said softly. "But you give me something first."
Dorian's eyebrows lifted. "Still negotiating."
Astra stepped closer—just one pace—close enough to make her bravery look like invitation, not defiance. She tilted her chin, exposing the collar without flinching.
Heat flared in the space between them, not romantic—tactical. Power-play tension, sharp enough to cut.
"I want Kael removed from the room," Astra said.
Kael's eyes snapped to her.
Dorian's smile widened. "Why."
Astra met Dorian's gaze and let her voice turn low and intimate, the way dangerous truths sounded when dressed like seduction. "Because you like using him as a handle," she murmured. "And I want to see what you do when you can't."
Silence.
Then Dorian laughed softly, delighted.
"You're bold," he said.
Astra smiled. "You said you like doors."
Dorian's eyes gleamed. He glanced at Kael. "Leave."
Kael's jaw clenched. His eyes went to Astra—warning, refusal, something raw.
Astra held his gaze and gave him a slow, deliberate nod.
Go. I'm still here.
Kael hesitated.
Dorian's voice cooled. "Kael."
The leash tightened.
Kael turned and walked out, posture rigid, the door closing behind him with a soft click that sounded like a lock in Astra's chest.
Astra exhaled slowly.
Dorian stepped closer, now the only authority in the room that mattered. The crestwrights watched like priests awaiting an offering.
Dorian's voice lowered. "Now. Dump it."
Astra closed her eyes for half a heartbeat.
Then she did something Dorian hadn't accounted for.
She didn't dump it outward.
She didn't pour it into her nerves to scream prettily.
She dumped it into the only place in the room that would matter more than her throat.
The ward net.
She reached for the reservoir in her body like grabbing a jar of burning oil, and she threw it—internally—into the containment system's own feedback loop, forcing the pain signature to spike not as a human scream but as an audit error.
Her interface flared blinding.
PAIN PARTITION: RELEASETARGET: WARD FEEDBACKWARNING: TRACE SURGERESERVOIR: 66% → 0%
The room shuddered.
Lanterns flickered.
The silver strip on the door sparked.
One of the crestwrights gasped as his slate went dead in his hands.
A high, thin sound filled the chamber—not Astra's scream, but the ward net's sudden overload, like a machine choking on something it wasn't meant to feel.
Dorian froze for the first time.
Not fear.
Surprise.
Astra's knees buckled as the delayed cost hit her nerves anyway—residual pain snapping through her spine like lightning. She caught herself on the edge of the chair, breath shaking, vision swimming.
Her interface screamed numbers.
TRACE: 19.7%AUDIT LOCK: ERRORCONTAINMENT NET: DESYNCWARNING: EXTERNAL CLAIM SIGNAL DETECTED
The ward net stumbled, and in that stumble the collar's recall command jittered.
For a heartbeat, Dorian's grip on her nervous system loosened.
Astra dragged in air and lifted her gaze, smiling through blood and sweat like a woman who refused to be polite about survival.
Dorian stared at her, then slowly smiled.
"Magnificent," he whispered.
Then the door strip flared again—harder—and a new pressure hit the room, colder and cleaner than House Veyrn's silk authority.
A voice came through the corridor beyond the door, muffled but unmistakable, carrying the weight of devotion sharpened into law.
"Marquis Dorian Veyrn," the voice called. "By the Church of Lumen, you will surrender the anomalous subject for sanctified containment."
Dorian's smile didn't fade.
It sharpened.
Astra's collar tightened, caught between two masters, and the interface flashed a verdict that made her stomach drop:
DUAL CLAIM CONFLICT: INITIATED.