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"Don't move, or I'll give you a second hole in your head," a voice rasped.
I didn't have to look up to know it was Kael. The cold steel of a barrel pressed firmly into the base of my skull, forcing my forehead against the damp concrete of the alley floor. My cheek was glued to the grit, smelling of old rain and diesel.
"Still got that arrogant tilt to your chin, Sera," he sneered. "Even when you're bleeding out in the trash. Where's that divine grace now?"
I spat a mouthful of blood onto his boot. "You always were a dog, Kael. Still barking on command."
He didn't flinch. Instead, he slammed my face harder into the ground. I gasped, the air leaving my lungs in a sharp wheeze. He gripped my hair, yanking my head back so I had to look up at him. His eyes were like flint—hard, grey, and utterly devoid of the worship I’d spent a decade demanding from this city.
"The Council stripped you," he whispered, leaning in. I could smell the leather of his gear and the faint, metallic scent of monster blood. "They tore the divinity right out of your veins. You're not a Saint anymore. You're just a piece of garbage with a fancy title."
"I'll kill them," I hissed, my voice cracking. "I'll rip August's throat out with my bare hands."
Kael laughed, a short, dry sound that lacked any humor. "With what? You can't even stand up without shaking. Look at you."
He let go of my hair abruptly, and I slumped back, my muscles screaming. I tried to summon the light, that golden, searing heat that used to incinerate anything I deemed unworthy. I closed my eyes, reaching deep into the core of my soul, searching for that spark.
Nothing. Just a cold, hollow void that felt like a winter grave.
"Searching for the fireworks?" Kael asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wrong day, sweetheart. The show's over."
I scrambled to my feet, my legs wobbling like a newborn calf. I lunged at him, fingers clawing for his throat, desperate to feel something—anything—break under my grip. But he didn't even move his feet. He just caught my wrist in a grip that felt like a vice, twisting it behind my back and pinning me against the brick wall in one fluid motion.
"Let go!" I screamed, thrashing against him.
"Shut up," he snapped. He pressed his body against mine to kill my leverage. I could feel the hard plates of his armor and the sudden, erratic thrum of his heart against my shoulder. He was too close. The heat radiating off him was oppressive, a stark contrast to the freezing rain starting to mist around us.
"Why are you even here?" I gasped, my chest heaving against his. "The Council paid you to execute me. Just do it. Stop playing with your food."
Kael's grip tightened. He leaned his head down, his lips almost brushing my ear. "August wants you dead, sure. But he wants you dead *after* he finds the Shards. And you're the only one who knows where the last three are hidden."
I smirked, though it probably looked more like a grimace. "Then you're wasting your time. I'd rather rot in this alley than give you a single coordinate."
"See, that's the problem," Kael murmured. He shifted his weight, his thigh pressing firmly between mine, locking me in place. The power imbalance was absolute. I was a fallen god; he was the man who hunted things like me for breakfast. "I don't think you realize how desperate your situation is. You have no power, no followers, and a bounty on your head that could buy a small country."
I glared at him, refusing to blink. "I'm still Sera. I'm still the one who ruled this city."
"You *were*," he corrected. He reached into his coat and pulled out a heavy, blackened iron collar. It looked like something used for beasts. "Now, you're a liability. And I'm the only thing keeping the Council's hounds from ripping you apart piece by piece."
I recoiled, my eyes widening. "You wouldn't. You're a Holy Knight. You follow the Code."
"The Code is for people who still have a soul," Kael said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. He stepped even closer, his chest crushing my breasts against the brick. The tension between us was a live wire, humming with hatred and something else—something dark and hungry. "I'm making a business deal. I save your pathetic life, and in exchange, you become my property until I get what I want."
"I'd rather die," I spat.
"Liar," he whispered. He traced the line of my jaw with the cold edge of the iron collar. "You love power too much to die as a nobody. You want your throne back. You want to see August scream."
He was right. That realization felt like a second betrayal. I hated him for seeing through me. I hated the way his gaze lingered on my lips for a fraction of a second too long before returning to my eyes.
"What happens if I say no?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.
Kael stepped back just an inch, enough to let me breathe, but not enough to let me escape. "Then I walk away. I leave you here in the rain. And within ten minutes, the Inquisitors will find you. They won't use a collar, Sera. They'll use a scalpel. They'll peel your memories out of your brain while you're still awake."
I shivered, the cold finally seeping into my bones. I looked at the collar, then back at the man who had spent years trying to bring me down. He was my enemy. He was the man who had led the charge against my palace. And now, he was the only door left open.
"I hate you," I whispered.
"Get in line," he replied. He didn't wait for a formal agreement. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, and snapped the collar around my neck.
The metal hissed as it locked, a surge of dampening magic pulsing through the iron. It felt like a cold chain wrapping around my consciousness, sealing away the last remnants of my will. I gasped, my knees finally giving out.
Kael caught me, not gently, but with a rough efficiency that kept me from hitting the pavement. He hauled me up by the collar, dragging me toward the mouth of the alley.
"Walk," he ordered. "Or I drag you by your hair."
"I can walk, you arrogant prick," I snapped, stumbling after him.
As we hit the main street of the undercity, the neon signs blurred into streaks of pink and electric blue. People hurried past, their faces hidden behind umbrellas and masks. None of them recognized me. The 'Saint' of Neon City was now just a girl in rags, wearing a slave's collar, being led by a leash.
Kael stopped abruptly in front of a crumbling tenement building that looked like it was held together by rust and spite. He turned to me, his expression unreadable in the flickering light of a broken streetlamp.
"This is your new palace," he said, gesturing to the rotting door. "One room. One bed. And a lot of rules."
I looked at the building, then at him. "And if I try to run?"
Kael stepped into my space, his hand sliding from the collar to the back of my neck, his thumb pressing into the sensitive skin just below my ear. The gesture was possessive, bordering on intimate, and it sent a jolt of pure electricity down my spine.
"Run," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. "I'd love to hunt you down again. But remember this, Sera..."
He leaned in closer, his voice a dark promise that made my heart race against my will.
"I don't save monsters. I leash them."