Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Chapter 4: He Said He Wouldn't Hurt Me

Rain again.

It always seemed to rain when Soren was forced to remember the past.

He sat on the marble tiles of the guest wing corridor, hands stained red from split knuckles. A session had gone wrong—too rough, too fast. Lael had pushed, and Soren had broken form.

He’d screamed.

And it wasn’t from pain.

It was from fear.

Lael hadn’t known—not truly. He’d promised never to raise his voice at Soren. Not to lock doors. Not to speak sharply or stand too close without warning. But today, he had done all three.

It had been a trigger.

The moment it happened, Soren had shut down.

Slipped back into the quiet version of himself that didn’t cry, didn’t plead—just froze.

Now he was here. Alone.

Except he wasn’t.

Lael stood down the hall, arms crossed, shoulders tense like he couldn’t decide whether to step forward or disappear.

“I didn’t mean to—” he began.

“I know,” Soren whispered. “But it doesn’t change what you did.”

Lael’s lips parted to speak again, but no words came out. He lowered his eyes.

Soren stood up slowly, gripping the wall with one hand.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I didn’t lay a hand on you.”

“That’s not the only kind of hurt,” Soren said. His voice cracked—barely. “You know that."

Lael stepped closer, but Soren flinched before catching himself. That pause was louder than any scream.

“Don’t,” Soren said. “Don’t apologize. Don’t fix it. Just… give me space.”

Lael didn’t follow.

And Soren didn’t sleep that night.

Because now, the cracks in their arrangement weren’t on paper—they were in trust. And trust was something Soren didn’t give lightly.

Not after what had been taken from him.

Chapter 5: A Shadow Named Caelum

Soren didn’t know what he expected when he walked into the drawing room that morning. Certainly not him.

Not the man leaning casually against the edge of Lael’s antique fireplace, sipping coffee like he owned the place. Not the smug curve of lips he’d only seen in old photos tucked into Lael’s office drawer.

Not the ex.

Caelum Raye.

His presence was a storm in a glass room—silent but charged.

Lael stood nearby, his arms crossed, expression unreadable. But it was clear something had shifted. His gaze, once consistently pinned to Soren in every room, now flicked between the two men. Equal. Distant.

“This must be him,” Caelum said, eyeing Soren like a scientist studying a rare animal. “The contract-bound one. You’re prettier than I imagined."

Soren’s jaw clenched. “Thanks.”

Caelum tilted his head. “You speak. That’s a surprise.”

Lael stepped forward. “Caelum—”

“No, it’s fine,” Soren said softly. “Let him talk. It’s been a while since someone said something new to my face.”

Caelum raised a brow. “You’re not what I expected.”

“And neither are you,” Soren replied. His voice was calm, but inside, he felt a trembling. Not fear. Not jealousy. Just the beginning of losing something he’d barely begun to understand.

Lael’s eyes flicked to him, unreadable. But Soren didn’t meet them.

Not this time.

Later that evening, Soren found Caelum in the courtyard, seated on the edge of the stone fountain, tossing petals into the water.

“You’re in love with him,” Caelum said without looking up.

“I don’t think I have that right.”

“You don’t.” Caelum smiled faintly. “But you are.”

Soren folded his arms. “Why are you back?”

“To settle something,” Caelum said. “With him. With my past. With the Keres Ring.”

Soren froze. “They’re after you?”

“They never stopped.” Caelum finally looked up, eyes sharp like razors. “And they know about you now.”

Silence.

Then: