Lena didn't move.
"You belong to me now."
The words settled in the air between them, calm and certain—like they weren't strange at all.
For a second, she thought she'd misheard him.
Then a quiet laugh slipped out of her, more out of disbelief than amusement.
"Sorry… what?"
He didn't repeat himself. Didn't soften it, either.
That was the first thing that unsettled her.
Most people would've corrected themselves. Smiled. Said they were joking.
He just watched her.
Lena shifted slightly under his gaze, folding her arms as if that could ground her. "Okay, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I signed an employment contract, not…" She gestured vaguely between them. "Whatever that was."
"It's exactly what you signed."
His voice was low, steady. Not defensive. Not aggressive.
Just… sure.
She frowned. "No. It's not. Because that would be completely insane."
Silence.
He didn't argue.
Didn't react at all.
And somehow, that made it worse.
Lena let out a breath, trying to shake off the strange tension creeping up her spine. "Look, can we just start over? What is the job? What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?"
"You'll stay here."
Her brows drew together. "Excuse me?"
"You'll remain under my authority," he continued, as if he were explaining something simple. "You'll follow the terms of the contract."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one that matters."
Her patience snapped.
"Okay, no," she said, shaking her head as she took a step back. "That's not how this works. You don't get to just—what—own people because they signed paperwork. That's illegal. And also insane."
"You're applying human logic to something that isn't bound by it."
The words were quiet.
Measured.
But they landed harder than anything else he'd said.
Lena stared at him. "What does that even mean?"
"You didn't read it."
There it was again.
Her jaw tightened. "I skimmed it. Like anyone would."
"You signed it without understanding it."
"I signed it because I needed a job."
"And now you have one."
"That's not a job," she snapped. "That's—"
She stopped herself, exhaling sharply.
This wasn't going anywhere.
"Forget it," she muttered. "I'm leaving."
She turned and walked toward the door, ignoring the weight of his gaze on her back.
This was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
She'd deal with whatever this was later. Right now, she just needed to get out.
Her hand wrapped around the handle.
And then—
Pain shot through her wrist.
Sharp. Immediate. Burning.
"Ah—!"
She yanked her hand back, stumbling a step away from the door as her heart slammed against her ribs.
"What—what was that?"
Her voice came out unsteady, and she hated it.
That hadn't been normal.
That hadn't been anything she could explain.
Slowly, she looked back at him.
He hadn't moved.
Of course he hadn't.
"You can't leave," he said.
Not coldly.
Not angrily.
Just… as a fact.
Lena's chest rose and fell unevenly. "What did you do?"
"Nothing you didn't agree to."
"I didn't agree to that!"
"You agreed to everything written in the contract."
"I didn't read it!"
"That doesn't make it any less binding."
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
"This isn't real," she said, more to herself now. "Contracts don't do this. People don't just—"
"Bind themselves?"
The word cut through her thoughts.
She looked up at him sharply.
"I didn't bind myself to anything."
"You did."
"No," she insisted, though the certainty in her voice was starting to crack. "No, I didn't."
He watched her for a moment, then said quietly, "You felt it."
Her stomach dropped.
That strange sensation earlier.
The brief spark in her hand when she signed.
"It was nothing," she said quickly.
"It wasn't."
"It was just nerves."
"It was the bond forming."
The room seemed to fall completely silent.
Lena shook her head slowly, backing away from him without realizing it.
"No," she whispered. "No, that's not possible."
"You're still thinking like nothing has changed."
Her chest tightened.
"Because nothing has changed."
Something in his expression shifted then—not visibly, not dramatically, but enough for her to feel it.
Like the atmosphere itself had deepened.
"You're wrong," he said.
And then he stepped closer.
This time, she didn't move away.
Not because she wasn't afraid—
But because something in her told her it wouldn't matter if she did.
"I'll make this simple," he continued.
His voice dropped slightly, softer but heavier somehow.
"From the moment you signed that contract, you became part of my world."
Lena's breath hitched.
"I don't even know what that means," she admitted.
"You will."
Another step closer.
Now he was standing right in front of her.
Too close.
Close enough that she could feel the heat of him, the quiet intensity that seemed to surround him.
"Look at me," he said.
She hesitated for half a second.
Then she did.
And that was when she saw it.
Not clearly.
Not in a way she could fully explain.
But enough.
His eyes—
They weren't normal.
The color had darkened, sharpened, like something deeper was surfacing just beneath the surface.
Something that didn't belong in the world she knew.
Something dangerous.
Her breath caught.
Every instinct in her body went still at once.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
Recognition.
Like some part of her understood before she did.
"…What are you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He held her gaze.
And for the first time—
There was no attempt to hide it.
"Not human."