02:17. The collar was still warm from my hands. It sat on the vanity between us. Silver. Delicate. A noose. Elspeth hadn’t looked at it since I fastened it around her throat 4 minutes ago. Now it was off. I’d taken it off the second Alistair’s elevator hit the ground floor. Her neck was red where it had been. A faint bruise already forming. “Put it back on,” I said. My voice was flat. CEO voice. The voice that ended negotiations. Elspeth didn’t move. She was standing by the window. Arms wrapped around herself. The violin case at her feet. “No,” she said. One word. The word broke something in the room. “Elspeth.” “No.” I crossed to her. Fast. Not touching. “Do you have any idea what that is?” I asked. “It’s a collar.” “It’s a leash.” I picked it up. It was heavier now. Or maybe I was just weaker. “It’s not just jewelry. It’s Vance tech. Old blood magic fused with silver and wolfsbane. The second it locks, it does three things.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “One. It tracks you. Every breath, every step, every time your heart rate goes above 80. Alistair will know if you sneeze. Two. It suppresses you. Whatever power you have, whatever fire you got from Julian, it chokes it out. You’ll be dulled. Tired. Human. Three.” I stopped. “Three, it binds you. Permanently. To him. To his will. You won’t be able to disobey a direct order. Ever again.” Elspeth finally looked at me. Her eyes weren’t scared. They were furious. “So put it on me,” she said. “That’s what you do, right? Control things. Keep the hotel neutral. Keep everyone safe.” “Safe?” I laughed. It sounded wrong. “This isn’t safe. This is surrender.” “Then don’t make me wear it.” “I have to.” “Why?” “Because if I don’t, he’ll know. By 08:00 there will be 40 Vance soldiers in my lobby. By 09:00 the Council will vote to dissolve the Kade line. By 10:00 this hotel will be ash.” I threw the collar onto the vanity. It clattered. “And by 11:00, they’ll take your hands anyway. Only this time I won’t be there to stop them.” Elspeth flinched at that. At _hands_. But she didn’t pick up the collar. “You said I was an asset,” she said. Quiet. “Cold. Transactional. So treat me like one. What’s the math, Damian?” The math. The math was simple. One girl vs. 2000 employees. Vs. 100 years of Kade neutrality. Vs. the entire city of Monsteria not going to war tonight. The math said: put the collar on her. The math said: force her if you have to. The math said: you killed your brother for less. 02:21. I picked up the collar again. My fingers closed around it. Elspeth didn’t run. She didn’t flinch. She just looked at me. “Do it,” she whispered. “If that’s who you are.” My thumb found the clasp. One click. That was all it would take. And then she would be his. Forever. And I would be able to tell myself I saved her life. I lifted it toward her throat. She didn’t close her eyes. She stared right at me. And I saw it. Julian. Not in her face. In her eyes. That same fire. That same _no_. _“Don’t do this, Damian,”_ Julian had said, bleeding out on the marble. _“Don’t become her.”_ My mother. I dropped my hand. “I can’t,” I said. The words felt like glass in my throat. Elspeth exhaled. Like she’d been holding her breath for an hour. “Thank you,” she said. “Don’t thank me,” I snapped. “You just condemned us both.” I started pacing. The room was too small. The walls were too close. “Okay. Options. Option one: we run. Tonight. Now. Take the freight car to the docks. Werewolves owe me a favor. They can get you to the coast.” “No,” Elspeth said. “No?” “I’m not running,” she said. “Not again. Not from my own room.” “Then option two: we lie. We say the collar was damaged in transit. We buy 48 hours.” “He’ll know,” she said. “He can feel them. The collars. He makes them himself.” “Option three—” “What?” she asked. “You kill him?” I stopped pacing. The idea had been there since the alley. Since Marcus laughed. Kill Alistair. Take the Vance heir as a ward. Claim asylum for her under hotel law. It would start a war. But it would end with her free. My hands were shaking. When was the last time my hands shook? “Damian,” Elspeth said. I didn’t answer. “Damian, look at me.” I looked. She was standing in front of me now. Close. Too close. The collar was still in my hand. “Give it to me,” she said. “No.” “Give it to me.” “Elspeth—” “I said give it to me.” Something in her voice. Not a request. An order. I handed it to her. She took it. Held it up to the light. Silver. Vance crest. Engraved with runes I couldn’t read. “It’s ugly,” she said. Then she looked at me. Really looked. And her jaw set. “Fine,” she said. “If he wants to own me, let him try.” She lifted the collar to her own throat. “Elspeth, stop—” The metal touched her skin. And it screamed. Not a sound. A feeling. Like ice in my teeth. Like copper on my tongue. The runes on the collar flared once. Bright white. Then they went black. I lunged. “Don’t—” But I was too late. The silver in her fingers started to smoke. Not melt. Corrode. Black veins spider-webbed across the surface. Eating it. The Vance crest blackened first. Then the runes. Then the whole band. And it turned to ash. Right between her fingers. Right between mine, where I’d grabbed her wrist to stop her. It fell. Not to the floor. It drifted. Black dust. Into the air. Into the carpet. Gone. 02:24. Silence. Elspeth was breathing hard. Not from fear. From effort. Her eyes were glowing. Faint. Gold. Then they faded. She looked at her empty hands. Then at me. “I told you,” she whispered. “I’m not property.” My brain wasn’t working. That was impossible. Vance collars didn’t break. They were bound to blood. To will. Unless... Unless the person wearing them had a will stronger. Unless they had Kade blood. Unless she was Julian’s. “Did you—” I started. The hotel lights flickered. Once. Then every alarm in the Grand Obsidian went off. Not fire. Not intruder. Something worse. A Vance alarm. From the collar. The destroyed collar. On the 47th floor. At 02:24. My phone buzzed. Once. A text from a number I didn’t have saved. _“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER.”_ Alistair. Another buzz. _“I’M COMING UP. WITH EVERYONE.”_ The elevator in the hall dinged. Footsteps. Many. Heavy. Coming down the hall. Elspeth looked at me. No fear now. Just resolve. “What do we do?” she asked. I looked at the ash on my fingers. At the empty space on the vanity. At the girl who just burned Vance magic with a look. And I realized, with sickening clarity, that neutrality wasn’t just dead. It had been cremated. I grabbed her hand. “Run,” I said. As Damian holds the silver collar, the metal suddenly begins to corrode and turn to black ash right between his fingers, reacting to Elspeth's silent, furious glare.

Chapter 10: Ash