Page 33 of Shadow Waltz

We stared at each other across the table, and I could feel the weight of his attention, but it felt different now—less like pressure and more like focus. This wasn't just business anymore.

“You're serious about the collar,” I said, though it wasn't really a question.

“I'm serious about keeping you alive,” Luka replied, and there was something almost vulnerable in his voice.

“I didn’t ask to be owned.”

“No. But now that you are, I’m not going to pretend I don’t give a damn what happens to you.”

The admission hung between us, raw and honest in a way that made my chest tighten. “How can you be so sure the collar will work?”

“Because you're a survivor,” he said, but his voice was soft now, almost admiring. “Because you're smart enough to recognize protection when it's offered, even when it doesn't look the way you expected.”

He leaned forward slightly, and I could see the careful control it took for him to maintain his composure. “I know what I'm asking of you, Ash. I know how it looks, how it feels. But I'm asking because the alternative is losing you, and I've discovered that's not something I can accept.”

I picked up the collar with trembling fingers, feeling the weight of it, the softness of leather that had been chosen with care. When I looked up, Luka was watching me with an intensity that had nothing to do with dominance and everything to do with hope.

“If I do this,” I said slowly, “it's not because I'm broken. It's not because you've forced me. It's because I'm choosing to trust you.”

Something shifted in Luka's expression—relief so profound it was almost painful to witness. “That's all I wanted,” he said quietly. “Your trust. Your choice.”

The leather felt warm against my throat, substantial but not constricting. When I fastened the clasp, it was with steady hands and the clear understanding that this was my decision, made for my own reasons.

“Good,” Luka said softly, but there was no command in it—just quiet satisfaction and something that might have been gratitude. The word sent warmth through me, not because of submission but because of the genuine approval I heard in his voice.

“How does it feel?” he asked, and there was real concern in the question.

“Like...” I paused, searching for the right words. “Like armor. Different from what I expected.”

“Beautiful,” Luka said quietly, and the word carried weight that had to do with appreciation rather than ownership. “It suits you.”

I met his gaze without flinching, letting him see that the collar hadn't diminished the fire in my eyes—if anything, it had given me a different kind of strength. This was protection I'd chosen, not submission I'd been forced into.

“You want me to be grateful,” I said, testing the dynamic between us, “but you didn't buy a pet. You bought a partner who happens to wear your mark.”

Luka's smile was genuine this time, reaching his eyes. “Is that so?”

I nodded, fingers brushing the collar at my throat with something approaching fondness. “You rotate your guards, never let anyone know the full layout. You use coded elevators, but even your staff doesn't know which floors go where. There are three camera feeds in every public room, but the one bythe service stairwell has a slight lag. The external fire escape is chained, but the chain's showing wear. The catering staff changes uniforms, but you keep the same core team—loyalty over security through obscurity.”

Luka's eyes lit up with something between surprise and delight. “You noticed all that this morning?”

“I notice everything,” I said, and was rewarded with a look of genuine admiration. “And you haven't threatened me once since I put this on. You know partnership works better than coercion.”

“Most people don't see the distinction,” he said, and there was something almost wondering in his voice. “Most people can't see past the surface to understand that protection and partnership can coexist.”

I met his gaze steadily. “I'm not most people.”

“No,” Luka said, his smile soft and real, “you're not. You're exactly what I hoped you'd be.”

For a moment, it felt like an understanding—a recognition that we were building something together rather than one of us simply taking from the other. “What happens now?” I asked.

“Now,” Luka said, and his voice carried promise rather than threat, “we figure out what we can build together. What we can become.”

The words sent anticipation rather than fear through me. I'd spent my entire life being owned by people who saw me as disposable, but this felt different. This felt like the beginning of something that might actually be worth protecting.

8

CHAINS OF FIRE