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Naira sits too still beside me, her body humming with the tension she does not know how to wield.

Orvian’s gaze drags over her, slow, indulgent. Disgusting.

He turns to me. "I did not take you for the type to collar a pet, Zephiran."

I tilt my head, letting my fingers tighten just slightly around the chain in my palm.

"She is not a pet," I say smoothly. "She is an investment."

Naira bristles.

Orvian’s smirk deepens. "Then perhaps you would consider selling her to me."

The room shifts.

The air turns lethal as if there are invisible swords already drawn.

My grip tightens just a fraction more—enough for Naira to feel it, the promise in the silent crack of the chain between my fingers.

She does not understand.

She does not yet know what I will do for her.

"Not for sale," I say, my voice even.

Orvian hums. "Pity. I could offer quite the price for something as rare as this."

I smile, slow, deadly. "You are mistaken if you think you could ever afford her."

Something flickers in Orvian’s gaze—curiosity, interest, something more dangerous.

I release the chain, shifting my grip from steel to flesh. My fingers slide to the back of Nairaneck, pressing, claiming, holding.

A final fucking warning.

"She stays with me," I murmur, dragging my thumb along the line of her throat. "As long as I wish it."

Orvian knows.

He knows this is not about price.

This is about power.

About possession.

He nods once, stepping back with a smirk. "Of course."

He does not push further. He values his life too much for that.

But I will remember this moment.

I will remember the way he looked at her.

If he dares again, I will rip his fucking heart from his chest and feed it to the crows.

I do not move until Orvian disappears into the crowd.

Only then do I release Nairathroat, feeling the way she shudders beneath my touch.