I lasted approximately forty-five minutes before I tried to escape.
Look, I'm not proud of it. Well, actually, I'm a little proud of it. Forty-five minutes of sitting in a demon's penthouse, processing the fact that I was apparently married to said demon, before attempting a jailbreak? That's pretty good impulse control, all things considered.
The coffee helped. I'm not going to lie, it was the best coffee I'd ever had. Perfectly brewed, rich and smooth, exactly the right temperature, which somehow made everything worse because now I was trapped in a supernatural marriage 'and' I'd have to go back to my terrible office coffee when this nightmare ended.
If it ended.
When Azryth didn't return after twenty minutes, I started exploring. The bedroom led to a bathroom that was bigger than my entire apartment. Marble everything, a shower that could fit six people, a bathtub that looked like a small pool, towels so soft they were probably illegal.
My clothes were indeed in the closet, looking weirdly out of place next to what I assumed were Azryth's designer suits. My ratty jeans and graphic tees (I had one that said "I Void Warranties" that I was particularly fond of) hung next to fabric that probably cost more per square inch than my rent.
Someone had also added new clothes. Expensive ones, shirts that felt like butter, pants that actually fit. I pretended not to notice that they were exactly my size.
The study contained my laptop, my books, even my stupid collection of novelty USB drives. Everything organized with the kind of efficiency that suggested professional movers, not demonic kidnapping.
Except it 'was' demonic kidnapping. No matter how nice the prison.
That's when I decided to leave.
The plan was simple: walk out, get to the street, find the nearest police station or church or 'something', and figure out how to undo a demonic binding contract.
Easy.
The penthouse door wasn't locked, that should've been my first warning sign.
I stepped into a hallway that screamed wealth and power. More art on the walls, actual sculptures on pedestals, lighting that was somehow both subtle and dramatic.
An elevator at the end of the hall, doors gleaming chrome.
I pressed the button, the doors opened immediately, I stepped inside.
Still no one stopping me, no alarms, no demonic security guards.
Second warning sign, completely ignored.
The elevator ride down from the top floor took forever, I watched the numbers tick down, my heart hammering, any second now, something would stop me. Azryth would appear, the elevator would malfunction, something.
Nothing happened.
The doors opened onto a lobby that looked like a five-star hotel had a baby with a modern art museum. Marble floors, soaring ceilings, a reception desk staffed by beautiful people in beautiful suits.
They all looked at me.
"Mr. Kael," the woman at the desk said, smiling like we were old friends. "Good morning, can we help you with something?"
They knew my name. Of course they knew my name, I was apparently married to their boss now.
"I'm just... going out," I said, aiming for casual and probably landing somewhere around "obviously lying."
"Of course, have a wonderful day."
That was it. No questions, no attempts to stop me.
Third warning sign. Still ignored, because I'm apparently an idiot.
I walked toward the glass doors leading to the street. Through them, I could see the city. Freedom. Escape. My old life waiting for me just beyond that threshold.
I pushed through the doors.
And that's when everything went wrong.
The moment I crossed the threshold, something 'pulled', like an invisible rope tied around my chest, yanking backward. The air turned thick, resistant, like walking through water. No, not water. Concrete.
My vision blurred, the sunlight suddenly seemed too bright, the sounds of the city too loud. Everything was overwhelming, pressing in from all sides.
Then came the pain.
It started in my chest, right where I'd felt the binding settle last night, a dull ache that rapidly escalated to agony, like something was being torn out of me, piece by piece, cell by cell.
My knees buckled. I grabbed for the doorframe, missed, stumbled forward onto the sidewalk.
The world tilted. Colors bled together, I couldn't breathe properly, each inhale feeling like I was trying to breathe through a straw.
"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"
Someone's voice, distant and echoing, I tried to respond, but my tongue felt too heavy.
The pain intensified. Spreading from my chest to my limbs, my head, every inch of my body screaming that something was fundamentally 'wrong'. The sigil on my wrist burned, bright enough that I could see it through my closed eyelids.
I was dying. I had to be dying. Nothing could hurt this much without ending in death.
Then the pain stopped.
Not gradually. Just... gone. Like someone had flipped a switch.
I was moving. No, being moved, someone had picked me up, carrying me with the kind of ease that suggested I weighed nothing at all.
I forced my eyes open.
Azryth's face swam into view above me, those ember eyes actually showing something other than cold amusement. Anger, maybe. Or irritation.
"Idiot," he said, and his voice sounded strange, tight. "Absolute idiot."
We were back inside. The lobby, people were staring but trying to pretend they weren't. Azryth ignored all of them, carrying me toward the elevator like this was a completely normal Tuesday morning.
"Put me down," I managed to croak.
"No."
The elevator doors closed, we were alone.
"Put. Me. Down."
"When we're back in the penthouse." He didn't look at me, staring straight ahead at the ascending numbers. "Where you will stay until you learn to stop doing monumentally stupid things."
"I was just..."
"Trying to leave." Now he looked at me, and there was actual fire flickering in his eyes. "Without any understanding of what the binding entails, without asking questions, without using even a fraction of the minimal intelligence I credited you with possessing."
"You didn't exactly offer a tutorial," I shot back, anger overriding the lingering pain. "You just forced this on me and expected me to... what? Be okay with it?"
"I expected you to not immediately attempt to kill us both, but apparently that was asking too much."
The elevator reached the top floor, the doors opened, Azryth carried me down the hall, through the penthouse door, and unceremoniously deposited me on the ridiculously comfortable couch in what I assumed was the living room.
I barely had time to register the space before he rounded on me.
"Do you know what happens when bound entities separate beyond the wards?" He didn't wait for an answer. "The connection strains, the lifeforce drains, continue long enough, and you die. We both die. Painfully."
"You said seventy-two hours," I argued, even though my wrist was still throbbing.
"That's if you break the bond entirely, attempting to leave the ward boundaries?" He leaned down, getting in my face. "That's immediate. You felt it, didn't you? The drain?"
I had. God, I had.
"The wards around this building are specifically designed to contain infernal energy," Azryth continued. "They also serve as our boundary, as long as we're both within them, the binding remains stable. Step outside?" He straightened. "Well, you experienced the consequences."
"So I'm trapped here." The realization settled like lead in my stomach. "In this building. Forever."
"Not forever. Just until we find a way to stabilize the binding enough to extend the range." He moved to a bar cart I hadn't noticed, pouring himself something amber from a crystal decanter. "Or until one of us dies, freeing the other, though given the whole mutual death clause, that's not particularly useful."
"How long?"
"How long what?"
"How long until we can... extend the range? Until I can leave?"
He took a sip of whatever he was drinking. "Weeks, possibly months. The binding needs time to settle, to integrate fully, rushing the process could destabilize everything."
Weeks. Months.
Trapped in a penthouse with a demon I'd accidentally freed and been forcibly bound to.
I was going to lose my mind.
"There are other limitations you should be aware of," Azryth said, because apparently my day wasn't terrible enough already. "Physical distance restrictions even within the wards. We can be separated by a few floors, perhaps a few hundred feet, but much more than that and you'll start to feel the drain again."
"So I can't even be in a different room from you?"
"Different room is fine, different wing of the building, manageable. But I wouldn't suggest testing the exact limits." He swirled his drink. "The drain is cumulative, every time you push against the binding, it weakens both of us."
"This is insane."
"Yes." He settled into a chair across from me, crossing one leg over the other with infuriating elegance. "I suggest you accept reality and start learning to work within these constraints rather than against them."
"Work within..." I laughed, a little hysterically. "You literally forced me into a magical marriage and now you want me to just... accept it?"
"I want you to not kill us both with your stubbornness." He set down his glass. "The binding is permanent, the restrictions are non-negotiable, the sooner you accept this, the sooner we can both get on with our lives."
"My life was fine before you!"
"Your life was deliberately mundane because you were hiding from your own abilities." He said it so casually, like he knew me, like he had any right to psychoanalyze my choices. "The binding didn't ruin your life, Riven, it revealed what you've been avoiding for years."
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know more than you think." He stood, moving toward what looked like a home office area. "The binding creates a connection, I can feel your emotions when they're strong enough, your pain, your fear, your anger." A pause. "Your loneliness."
I flinched.
"I'm not interested in your trauma or your sob story," Azryth continued, pulling out a tablet. "But I am interested in keeping us both alive, which means you need to understand the rules."
He tapped something on the screen and a holographic display appeared in the air between us. Symbols and diagrams that made my head hurt.
"Rule one: Stay within the wards unless I'm with you, the binding stabilizes with proximity."
"How close is close enough?"
"Same building, same general area. I'll know if you're pushing the limits." He swiped, changing the display. "Rule two: Don't attempt to remove the sigil. It's not decorative, it's the physical manifestation of the binding. Damage it, and you damage the connection."
I looked at my wrist, at the glowing mark. "Can other people see this?"
"Only those with the ability to perceive infernal magic. To normal humans, it's invisible." Another swipe. "Rule three: The binding shares more than just lifeforce, strong emotions bleed through, severe injuries affect both of us. If you get hurt, I feel it. If I get hurt, you feel it."
"That's... invasive."
"That's survival." He dismissed the hologram. "The binding is designed to ensure mutual preservation, it makes betrayal difficult and abandonment impossible."
"Sounds like a nightmare."
"For both of us." He met my eyes. "I didn't want this any more than you did, but it's done, we're bound, and we need to learn to coexist without killing each other."
I slumped back against the couch, exhaustion washing over me. Physical, emotional, existential exhaustion.
"I have a job," I said quietly. "Friends, a life outside this building."
"Your job has been notified that you're taking personal time due to your recent marriage." His tone was matter-of-fact. "As for friends..." He trailed off meaningfully.
Right. Because I didn't really have those, did I?
"This is wrong," I whispered. "This whole thing is wrong."
"Morality is subjective." He picked up his drink again. "What matters is that we're stuck with each other, make peace with it, or don't. But stop trying to escape, it's tedious, and frankly, I have better things to do than repeatedly save you from your own stupidity."
With that, he walked away, disappearing into another room and leaving me alone with the weight of my new reality.
I looked down at my wrist. The sigil pulsed, steady and inevitable as a heartbeat.
Bound. Trapped. Married to a demon who considered me an inconvenience at best.
I pulled my knees up to my chest, suddenly feeling very small in the enormous, expensive penthouse.
"I really, really didn't sign up for this," I muttered.
Somewhere in another room, I swear I heard Azryth laugh.