The corridor tasted like rust and old spice—market bones above, Underchain breath below. Astra could feel both worlds pressing in on her ribs like hands deciding where she was allowed to exist.
In her vision, the prompt waited with perfect patience.
TRANSFER PATH LOCKED TO CUSTODIAN CONFIRMATION — FINALIZE?
The word finalize felt like a door that only closed.
Kael stood close enough that his heat cut through the chill, one hand steady at her waist, the other hovering near her forearm like he didn't trust his own muscles anymore. His jaw was clenched hard, eyes dark with the kind of fury that didn't waste itself on shouting.
Orin hissed from ahead, "We don't have ten seconds to stare at ghosts. Move."
Juno's disks clicked softly in her palm, like teeth.
Lyra leaned back against the stone, pale from holding the routed request, eyes bright anyway. "If you finalize, you're signing in blood. If you don't, he signs for you. Delicious."
Kael's gaze snapped to Lyra like a blade. "Quiet."
Lyra's smile sharpened. "Make me."
Astra's jealousy flared hot, ugly, and useful. She didn't let it show as emotion. She let it show as command.
"Lyra," Astra said coldly, "watch the rear. If you see clean light, you whistle. If you don't know how to whistle, bite your own tongue."
Lyra's eyes widened—then gleamed. "Yes, my lady."
Kael's hand tightened at Astra's waist for a heartbeat, then loosened like he caught himself. Not ownership. Grounding.
Astra turned her attention back to the prompt. The countdown had already started in the background, though she couldn't see it. She could feel it—pressure in her throat seal, silk warmth at the edge of her nerves, the system's hunger for hierarchy.
Dorian's voice curled through her collar like velvet over steel.
"Press it," he murmured. "Make yourself official. Let me show you what officials are for."
Astra swallowed bile.
Kael leaned in, voice rough at her ear. "If you finalize, it locks the path to me—in person. That shuts him out."
"And what does it lock me into," Astra whispered back.
Kael's breath hitched. "Us."
That word landed like a fist.
Not romance. Not softness. A structure.
A leash trying to pretend it was a bond.
Astra's throat burned around the cloth-wrapped seal. "I can't give him a cleaner handle."
Kael's jaw flexed. "Then we make the handle ours."
Orin snapped, "Less poetry. More survival."
Astra exhaled through her nose. Survival first. Always.
She opened the prompt details. A thin list unfurled beneath FINALIZE, clean and merciless:
EFFECT: Handler role bound to interim oversight durationNOTE: House Veyrn transfer attempt becomes "contested claim"REQUIRES: Subject + Custodian in-person confirmation (recorded)
Recorded.
Everything was recorded.
Astra's blood turned cold. If she finalized, the system would record the confirmation—two voices, one phrase—and file it in a place the Guild could smell, the Church could bless, and Dorian could replay like a lullaby.
She needed a clause. Not another deep write. Not another trace spike if she could avoid it.
Something spoken, not carved.
Something the system would treat as a condition of consent.
Astra lifted her chin.
"Kael," she murmured, low and sharp, "consent to me adding a spoken condition to my confirmation."
Kael didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Astra's pulse kicked. The yes always hit her like heat and relief at once.
She turned slightly so her voice would carry—enough for the seal to record, enough for the system to hear the shape of her choice.
"I will finalize," Astra said clearly, "only if the system records this condition: any handler transfer attempt by House Veyrn is denied unless I speak consent in private—with no witnesses."
The seal hummed, offended.
The system hesitated.
A thin line flickered in her vision:
CONDITION RECEIVED — EVALUATING
Meros's calm voice was suddenly in the corridor air, faint but too near, riding a thin line of signal like a needle in cloth.
"Subject Astra Vey," Meros said, polite and cold, "you cannot restrict claimant rights with spoken theater."
Orin's face tightened. "They're close."
Juno's disk hummed in her palm.
Lyra's head tilted, listening. "Guild line. Not boots yet."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "They're testing the seam."
Astra ignored Meros and kept her gaze on the system line.
The condition flickered again.
CONDITION ACCEPTED — ATTACHED TO CONSENT RECORD
Astra exhaled hard.
Not perfect. Not safe. But attached.
Dorian's silk laughter slid warm and amused along her nerves. "Look at you. Writing law with your mouth."
Astra's jaw clenched.
Kael leaned closer, voice rough and intimate. "Now. Before he finds another angle."
Astra's throat burned. She didn't look at the button like it was a door.
She looked at Kael like he was the only real thing in the corridor.
"Black water," Astra whispered.
Kael answered instantly, rough and steady. "Black water."
Their in-person confirmation was already primed, already recorded by the system as "present."
Astra's breath hitched, heat curling low in her belly because being that close to him—being heard by him—was the only kind of authority she wanted.
She lifted her chin and spoke her consent out loud, clear and controlled.
"I finalize," Astra said.
Kael's voice followed—chosen, human.
"I finalize," he said.
The prompt flashed.
FINALIZATION: COMPLETEHANDLER ROLE: BOUND (TEMP)HOUSE VEYRN TRANSFER: CONTESTED (CONDITION ATTACHED)AUDIT INTEREST: HIGHNEW NOTICE: REGISTRY PING — IMPERIAL HOUNDS
Astra's blood went ice.
Registry ping.
Imperial Hounds.
Kael's face changed—micro-second recognition, like a soldier hearing a whistle he hadn't heard in years.
Orin swore softly. "What did you just wake."
Juno's eyes widened. "What's that mean."
Lyra's smile sharpened like a cut. "It means you rang the kennel bell."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Hounds registry. If an interim custodian protocol binds a Hound's crest and a handler marker—"
"It pings command," Astra finished, stomach dropping.
Dorian's laughter purred. "Now we invite the real professionals."
Astra's throat burned under the cloth wrap. She'd shut out the transfer—only to summon the institution that had built Kael.
Kael stepped closer, body shielding Astra by instinct, eyes scanning the dark gaps between crates.
"We move," Kael said.
Orin nodded once, grim. "Now."
They slipped deeper into the storage maze, weaving through stacked crates and rotting bales. The air got warmer—closer to the surface. The seal under Astra's cloth vibrated, unhappy at the rising signal.
Astra's interface flickered with a new, cruel addition:
IMPERIAL HOUNDS: RESPONSE ETA — 00:12:00NOTE: Kael Raithe status flagged "custodian active"NOTE: Handler identity logged
Logged.
Astra's stomach twisted.
Kael felt her tension and caught her forearm, firm.
"Consent?" he asked, voice rough.
Astra's breath hitched. She nodded. "Yes."
Kael's hand slid to her waist again, bracing her as they moved fast through narrow gaps. The touch was warm, controlled, asked for—and it made Astra's body respond anyway, heat rising despite fear.
She hated how much she needed that anchor.
Lyra moved ahead now, surprisingly silent. She reached a corner and peered out.
"Boots," Lyra whispered. "Clean rhythm. Not Guild."
Orin's face went pale. "Hounds already?"
Juno hissed, "That's too fast."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Not full unit. Patrol."
Astra's chest tightened. The registry ping had done more than alert command—it had probably lit a "priority lane" in the city's clean networks. Hounds could respond faster than statute.
They rounded a crate stack and saw them through a gap: three figures in Dominion grey-black, moving with military precision, not scanning like Guild auditors but hunting like trained dogs. Their crests glimmered faint at the throat.
Kael's body went rigid beside Astra.
The lead Hound paused, head tilting slightly, as if smelling something on the air.
Astra's interface flashed:
CUSTODIAN SIGNAL: DETECTED (EXTERNAL)NOTE: Hound-to-Hound recognition possible