Seraphine's gaze flicked to the corridor behind them. "He's testing my wards," she murmured, amused. "Bold."
Orin shifted slightly, scanning. "If Rusk breaches the chapel…"
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "He won't. Not yet."
Astra didn't like that "yet."
She didn't like being a piece on a board between Empire and Church.
She leaned into the only thing that still felt like hers: the heat between her and Kael, sharpened into strategy.
"Kael," Astra murmured, low enough to be private, "consent to me using the Guardian bond to hide Orin and Juno from command sight while we're here."
Kael's jaw clenched. "It costs you."
Astra's mouth tasted blood. "Everything costs."
Kael stared at her for a long heartbeat.
Then he nodded once, grim. "Yes."
Astra didn't touch Kael's crest. Didn't write into his system.
She used the new PERMISSIONS layer the Church had exposed—careful, delicate—like walking a knife-edge.
Her interface pulsed:
GUARDIAN SHIELD — EXPAND COVERAGE (SANCTUARY)COST: PENANCE +1
Astra accepted.
Pain didn't hit like trace. It hit like shame turned into physical weight—heavy in her chest, squeezing her lungs, making her want to bow her head.
Penance.
A debt designed to train obedience.
Astra fought the instinct, kept her chin up.
Orin exhaled slightly, as if a pressure line had lifted from his spine. Juno's shoulders eased a fraction.
Seraphine watched Astra with bright satisfaction. "You feel it," she murmured. "Penance."
Astra's throat burned. "You built pain into prayer."
Seraphine smiled. "Pain has always been part of prayer."
Kael's hand at Astra's waist tightened, grounding. He didn't speak. His eyes were dark with fury and something else—something that looked like guilt, like he hated that his name was now part of Astra's burden.
Astra felt the heat of that guilt and hated it.
She leaned closer to him, close enough to make his breath catch, and spoke low so only he heard.
"This is not your fault," Astra whispered.
Kael's jaw clenched. "My name is on it."
Astra's mouth curved, razor-thin. "Then use your name to protect me, not to punish yourself."
Kael's breath shuddered.
The moment hovered—almost a kiss, not quite—dangerous and intimate under candlelight, while Seraphine watched like a priest watching a sacrament.
Kael's voice came rough, quiet. "Consent… to me wanting you."
Astra's pulse kicked hard.
She didn't soften.
She didn't tease.
She made it explicit—because that was the only way to keep wanting from becoming a tool.
"Yes," Astra whispered. "You can want me. You cannot take me."
Kael's eyes darkened like he'd been struck.
"I won't," he said, raw.
Seraphine's smile sharpened at the edge. "How romantic," she murmured. "How useful."
Astra snapped her gaze to Seraphine. "Stop enjoying it."
Seraphine's eyes glittered. "I enjoy truth."
Then Seraphine's tone shifted—still soft, but edged now.
"You've created a Guardian bond," Seraphine said. "That bond can be strengthened… or broken."
Astra's stomach dropped. "We didn't agree to—"
Seraphine lifted a hand, gentle. "Relax. I'm offering information."
Rusk's voice threaded through, quiet and predatory. "And I'm offering consequences."
Seraphine ignored him and looked at Astra like she was choosing where to place a knife.
"The Guardian bond will keep command blind inside my sanctuary," Seraphine said. "But the moment you leave my wards, it becomes visible again."
Astra's throat tightened. "So you want us to stay."
Seraphine's smile warmed slightly. "I want you to survive."
Orin muttered under his breath, "Same thing in a nicer dress."
Seraphine's eyes flicked to Orin. "Underchain cynicism is tiresome."
Orin's eyes stayed hard. "So is Church hunger."
Seraphine turned back to Astra, gaze steady.
"There's only one way to carry the shield beyond my walls," Seraphine said softly.
Astra's blood went cold. "A vow."
Seraphine smiled. "A vow."
Kael's hand at Astra's waist tightened, anger spiking. "No vows."
Seraphine's gaze slid to him. "Guardian, you don't get to decide what she sacrifices."
Kael's jaw clenched. "I decide what my name is used for."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "And yet your name is already on her."
Astra's collar pulsed once, uncomfortable, as if it hated being discussed like a thing.
Astra forced her breathing slow. "We agreed to one hour, Seraphine."
Seraphine nodded once. "Then use it."
Astra didn't like the way that sounded like teach yourself how to obey.
Seraphine stepped back and gestured toward a side archway. "Inner sanctum," she said. "No attendants. No hands. Just light and truth."
Kael moved with Astra immediately, protective, and then stopped himself.
"Consent," Kael asked, voice rough, "to staying close."
Astra's pulse kicked. "Yes."
They moved under the arch. The inner sanctum was smaller, warmer—more candlelight, less echo. Lumen sigils ran in gold threads through the stone like veins.
The moment they stepped fully inside, the air shifted.
Rusk's channel thinned—still present, but muffled, like the sanctuary had swallowed him.
Dorian's velvet smoke in Astra's nerves weakened too, as if holy wards didn't like his kind of claim.
Astra exhaled hard.
Seraphine noticed.
"Feels better," Seraphine murmured.
Astra's eyes stayed cold. "Feels expensive."
Seraphine smiled. "Everything worth having is."
Then she tilted her head, listening again—this time not to Rusk, but to something deeper.
Her gaze snapped to Astra's throat.
"Your witness seal," Seraphine said softly. "It's not just Guild. It's keyed to House Veyrn channels."
Astra's blood went ice. "That's not possible."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "It is. Because House Veyrn pays for half the Guild's ink."
Kael's jaw clenched, murderous. "Dorian."
Seraphine nodded slightly. "Dorian's claim isn't only in your collar, Astra. It's in your witness seal."
Astra felt bile rise.
All her clever drowning in water, all her reroutes, all her conditions—if the witness seal itself had House hooks, then Dorian had been listening longer than she'd feared.
Astra's interface flickered with a new, awful truth:
WITNESS SEAL: HOUSE-KEYED SUBCHANNEL DETECTEDNOTE: POTENTIAL BACKDOOR — VEYRN
Seraphine's eyes glittered. "I can cut it," she said softly.
Astra's throat burned. "Cut it how."
Seraphine lifted a hand, still not touching. "With consecration."
Kael went rigid. "No vows."
Seraphine's smile didn't move. "Not a vow. A purge."
Astra's stomach tightened. A purge sounded like salvation.
It also sounded like the kind of thing that left scars you didn't choose.
Seraphine's gaze held Astra's. "If I purge the House-keyed subchannel," she said, "Dorian loses a clean line into your throat. But the Guild will know. And the Church will have the record."
Astra swallowed. "So you become the new listener."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "I become the one who can keep you alive."
Kael's hand tightened at Astra's waist. He didn't speak. His eyes said everything: don't trade one cage for another.
Astra's throat burned with anger and want and fear braided tight.
She looked at Kael—at the man who'd been called owner proxy and refused to act like it, the man who still asked before touching her.
Then she looked at Seraphine—at a priest who smiled like a knife.
And she realized something sick and clear:
The Empire and the Church didn't disagree about collars.
They disagreed about who held the key.
Astra's voice came out low and steady. "If you purge it, you don't get my obedience."
Seraphine's eyes gleamed. "I didn't ask for obedience."
Astra didn't blink. "You will."
Seraphine smiled, and for the first time, the smile looked almost honest.
"Yes," Seraphine murmured. "Eventually."
Kael's breath went tight. "Astra."
Astra turned slightly toward him, close enough for warmth, for want, for the line they didn't cross without choosing it.
"Consent," Astra whispered, "to me doing something reckless if it cuts Dorian's line."
Kael stared at her like he wanted to drag her out of the sanctum and also like he knew she'd go anyway.
"Ask properly," he rasped.
Astra's pulse kicked.
"Kael Raithe," Astra said, low and deliberate, "do you consent to Seraphine purging the House-keyed channel in my witness seal—if I say stop, she stops."
Kael's jaw clenched. He looked sick.
Then he answered anyway, because he chose her survival over his comfort.
"Yes," Kael said, rough. "I consent."
Astra's throat tightened. "And," she added, eyes burning, "if the purge tries to bind you as my 'chosen authority' beyond sanctuary, you deny it."
Kael's eyes snapped to hers. "Yes."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "So much consent," she murmured. "It's almost… sacred."
Astra's mouth curled. "Don't romanticize it."
Seraphine lifted the brass candlestick and the flame inside it changed—cleaner, brighter, almost white. The ward lines under Astra's feet glowed in response.
Seraphine's voice softened into ritual cadence. "Hold still."
Astra's collar pulsed, hungry and afraid.
Kael's hand at Astra's waist tightened—grounding.
"Consent?" Kael murmured, rough.
Astra's breath hitched. "Yes."
The flame hovered near Astra's throat wrap, and heat kissed the damp cloth without burning it. The witness seal vibrated hard, as if it recognized a knife being drawn.
Astra's interface flared.
PURGE PROTOCOL: INITIATINGTARGET: WITNESS SEAL SUBCHANNEL (VEYRN)COST: PENANCE +3WARNING: PAIN REAL
Pain slammed through Astra's skull—not trace pain, not owner-channel pressure—something cleaner and meaner, like shame turned into fire.
Astra's knees threatened to dip.
Kael's arm tightened around her waist, holding her upright.
"Stay with me," Kael rasped.
Astra's mouth tasted blood. "I'm here."
The flame brightened.
Astra's interface flickered again, and the Veyrn subchannel line—Dorian's hidden hook—shivered as if it was being dragged into light.
Dorian's velvet voice flared furious in her nerves.
"You little—"
Then it cut out mid-breath, like someone had put a blade through silk.
Silence.
Real silence.
Astra's eyes widened.
For the first time since the collar woke, there was no Dorian breathing inside her.
Seraphine watched Astra's expression with bright satisfaction. "There," she whispered. "That's what freedom sounds like."
Astra couldn't breathe for a heartbeat.
Kael felt it too—his shoulders eased by a fraction, like he'd been holding against an invisible hand.
Then the twist hit.
Not from Dorian.
From the system itself.
A new gold prompt slid into Astra's vision, calm and hungry:
LUMEN RECORD CREATED: PURGE WITNESSWITNESS REQUIRED: GUARDIANPHRASE REQUIRED (GUARDIAN): "I ACCEPT."EFFECT: PURGE FINALIZED + CHURCH CUSTODY REGISTERED
Kael went rigid.
Rusk's voice snapped through the ward-thinned channel, sharp and pleased.
"There you are," Rusk murmured. "Now I have a new chain to pull."
Seraphine's smile sharpened like she'd expected this all along.
She looked at Kael with gentle cruelty.
"Guardian," Seraphine said softly, "say 'I accept.' Or the purge reverses."
Kael's jaw clenched, eyes burning into Astra's—furious, trapped, trying to choose the least deadly poison.
Astra's throat burned, and for the first time in too long, Dorian wasn't there to mock her.
Just the Church.
Just the Empire.
Just Kael's name.
Astra leaned close to Kael's mouth, heat and terror braided tight, and whispered their anchor like a vow.
"Black water."
Kael's answer came out rough, immediate—
"Black water."
And then Kael inhaled, about to speak the words that would finalize Astra's freedom—
or register her as Church custody in the same breath.