Cold horror and dread were like a sinking weight in my stomach as I stared up at the man who now owned me. I wanted to pretend I had no idea what he was talking about- but I could tell by his cold smirk that my shock and fear must have shown in my eyes. A metallic taste was building at the back of my throat as I bit down on the leather gag, unable to pull myself out of the man’s controlling grip.

“Sir?” The tentative, wavering voice of the auctioneer shattered the still moment, the man anxious and wringing his hands together as he stared at us.

Relief washed through me as I was freed from the tight hold of my new owner. He stood, towering over me as he tugged at the cuffs of his snowy white dress shirt to straighten them under his fine suit jacket. “I’ll be taking him now,” the man said, his tone still cold and formal- carrying a faint threat beneath it, as if daring the auctioneer to speak against him.

He was smart- or scared- enough not to argue, nodding emphatically as he stepped back. “As you wish, sir,” he responded, giving a slight bow.

The room was awash with frenzied whispers as the elegant silver-haired man glanced down at me with a thoughtful expression before regarding the auctioneer with clinical chill. “I’d like to formally seal this contract before any of them start to harbor any ambitions,” he jerked his chin toward the disorderly crowd.

I dragged my gaze away from the man, and my stomach churned as I realized he had good reason to be concerned. Despite the winning bid, the crowd still watched me with the greedy eyes of starving predators. I had no doubt they would take even the slightest chance to steal me out from under my new owner’s nose. My position was already dire enough; the last thing I wanted was to be caught in some perverse power struggle.

Because I doubted either party would care if their new toy broke in the process, as long as they were victorious in the end.

My attention snapped back to my new master when he stepped toward me again. My body tensed, braced for another blow- for more abuse. It was a shock not to feel any pain as the man laid his hands on me. Rather than the attack I expected, I was swept up into shockingly gentle arms.

A strangled sound left my throat as I found myself cradled to the man’s chest. It was hard and firm, suggesting muscle that wasn’t obvious under the layers of his tailored suit. I tried to pull away, dismayed and distrustful, only for his hand to grasp the back of my head and drag me back to him.

“Now now, pet, don’t struggle- it might hurt if I end up dropping you because you won’t sit still.” The man’s voice was disturbingly appealing, dark and smooth as he hushed the threatening words. I could hear his pulse, strong and steady, where he had my head pressed against his chest.

My skin should have been crawling from the touch of his hands over my body; I only felt a vague discomfort, instead, and that was almost more alarming. My wrists twisted and turned against the restraints, anger beginning to burn through the cloying fear which had overwhelmed my thoughts. 

“My men will collect the rest of my goods.” His voice was a rumble in his chest as the man shifted his grip to hold me tighter. “For now, have one of your lackeys direct me to one of the private rooms.”

“We don’t have-”

“Don’t try that bullshit with me.” His voice dropped to a sinister snarl, and I flinched as his fingertips dug into me with restrained rage. “I am well aware of exactly what your association offers; now have one of your men show me to a room before I cause a scene you could never hope to recover from.”

Sheltered against my new owner’s chest, I couldn’t see the auctioneer- but I could hear the quaking fear in his voice as he stammered, “Y-yes sir!” in a frantic tone before lowering his voice to a hiss I could barely hear. “Show the client to one of the private suites, and make sure he is completely satisfied with the seal he places.”

“Yes, sir!’ Several voices barked in response, one of the lackeys mumbling for my new master to follow him.

I closed my eyes as the man stepped off the stage; though he cradled me carefully, his steps jostled me in sharp shocks of pain that made the ache in my head throb. They talked over my head, my new owner and the auctioneer’s men, but I let their words fade into a meaningless buzz. All of my attention focused on my churning stomach, and the growing metallic taste as my jaw and teeth ached; I must have hurt myself, but I still couldn’t stop myself from biting down on the leather, the rough edges digging into the soft corners of my mouth.

It should have been a relief to hear a door open, my new master’s steps slowing- but my heart was racing, my body stiff and tense in his hold. I didn’t know the intricacies of the process, but I knew enough to be afraid of what came next.

To my surprise, I was set on my feet. The private room was lavishly decorated, a plush carpet beneath my feet and luxurious couches and chairs circling a low, dark oak coffee table. Small lamps glowed with the faint aquamarine glow of artificial magic, runes etched into the glass. I cringed at the unnatural feeling that radiated from them, my gaze straying to the door as I contemplated escape.

There was no chance of it as my new owner’s fingers looped in the chain between my wrists, keeping me from pulling away from him. “Look at me.” There was a thinly veiled threat behind his commanding words, the man tugging at the chain slightly.

It prompted me to open my eyes, grudgingly raising them to the man’s face. His pale blue eyes burned into mine, the faint cold smirk still pulling at his lips. His long, thin fingers caught my chin, tugging it upward so he could rest the other hand against my throat. “Give me the keys to his restraints,” he murmured the command without pulling his gaze away from mine.

“But sir-”

“Now!” His tone was sharper as he barked the word, still gripping my chin as he held out his other hand. There was a faint metallic rattle, drawing my gaze to one of the guards who had been in the cell as they dropped a pair of keys into my owner’s waiting palm. Then my master’s grip tightened on my jaw to the point of pain to snap my attention back to him.

“There we go, pet,” he murmured, a cold shiver running down my spine at the thread of pleasure in his voice. His fingers slid up my jaw and into my hair, jerking my head forward and down. The rattle of keys was in my ear before I felt the tight straps of the gag loosen, the rings no longer digging into the side of my face.

The man’s touch was again unexpectedly gentle as he carefully removed the gag from between my teeth. As soon as the thick strip of leather was removed, I realized how much it had truly hurt; my jaw ached sharply from being stuck in that position for so long, the taste of blood in my mouth even sharper. I didn’t want to think about how the rough leather could have cut or rubbed raw the soft flesh inside my mouth, focusing instead on the man standing in front of me.

“Why?” My voice was soft and ragged, and even that little hurt.

“Why what? Why buy you- or why take the gag off?” The man raised an eyebrow, chuckling when I scowled at him. “The answer to both questions is the same. I’ve been looking for you for a long time, Christopher Arnell, and I don’t want you to break… at least, not yet.”

I shuddered at the sinister words, my pulse uneven at the sound of my name from his lips; it had been months since I’d heard anybody speak it, so it was strange to hear it from a stranger. I swallowed, refusing to respond as the man caught my chin again.

He forced me to tip my head back, my sore muscles protesting and my stomach flipping as his rough fingertips stroked my throat. “Will you accept my seal?” He paused, rough fingertips against my adam’s apple as if he could tell I was ready to protest. “Or would you rather I throw you back out there to the next bidder?”

My stomach sank, my teeth bared as I sucked in a sharp breath. “You already paid for me, do whatever you want,” I hissed, unable to help the bitter words though I knew they wouldn’t make any difference.

They only provoked a low chuckle from him, his fingers rubbing over the tender skin. “Good- then we can get started.”

A step at his side made me jump against his grip, one of the guards speaking up as they offered, “Would you like a scalpel, sir? Or a carving knife?” When there was no response, he prompted, “Or perhaps a brand?”

I swallowed, my throat dry at the nauseating idea of hot metal searing into my flesh. Thankfully my new master seemed equally disgusted, scoffing and shaking his head. “Bunch of barbarians,” he muttered, “Just give me the scalpel and leave us.”

“But sir-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The man broke his pale gaze away from me long enough to fix the guard with a deadly glare; it immediately prompted him into action, his booted feet stomping across the carpet. He briefly returned to place a thin metal implement in my owner’s extended palm before he stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

My gaze fixed to the door, wistfully dreaming of following him out; with my master’s hand around my throat, I didn’t dare to even flinch. He drew his hand away, raising the scalpel. My eyes slammed shut, shoulders tense as I braced myself for the pain of the man carving his seal into my skin.

What came instead was the soft hiss of his breath between his teeth- and then a wet warmth against the skin of my throat. It buzzed with the sickening, unnatural feel of an alchemist’s artificial magic; I instinctively knew the man was using his own blood to draw the runes on my skin. It paralyzed me in place, all too aware of how much stronger that would make his seal.

My concerns were confirmed the moment his fingers stilled, and the full impact of his twisted magic hit me at once. It made my knees buckle, my entire being protesting the sick feeling of the artificial magic as it wound around my neck. It was hard to breathe, tears welling in my eyes as I reached up to try to claw the feeling away.

There was nothing to dig my fingers against, only smooth skin, my breaths coming quick and panicked as I fought the rush of sensation. Blinking, I could see a pale blue light extending from me to my owner’s bloodied fingertips. Despair sank into me as the glow took on the shape of rounded links- the chain of my leash, binding me to the man who had paid for the right to my life.

“Who…are you?” I ground the words out, struggling to find the breath to even manage that much.

His smirk was back in place as the man wound the ethereal links around his hand; it jerked my forward, my palms against the ground as I looked up at him on my hands and knees. Exactly like the pet he kept calling me. The man crouched down, the fingers of his other hand curling in my hair to pull my head up so my eyes met him. “My name is Ian,” he responded, slightly smug behind the chill, “Ian Hedquist.”

I stared at him with helpless horror. Everybody in the city knew that name- it was an old money family, one with fingers in every financial pie. They were involved in business, politics… everything that made the city run. And the name was even more fearsome to an arcanist, because the Hedquists were alchemists.

Powerful, old blood alchemists. They were dangerous. Untouchable. And they had killed more of my people than I could count.

And as my consciousness faded, senses so overwhelmed by the power of the artificial magic that my body was shutting down to escape it, I was haunted by the smug pleasure in Ian’s pale eyes as the seal which bound me to my enemy affixed itself to my soul.