"Step forward, Seraphyne."
"I am already here."
"Closer."
"You didn't summon me to measure distance."
"Do not test the chamber."
"I wouldn't dare," Seraphyne said, her voice smooth. "You summoned me. I answered."
"Lower your gaze."
She tilted her head instead. "You didn't call me to admire the floor."
A low resonance filled the chamber, heat licking the edges of her skin.
"Arrogance does not become you."
"It has always belonged to me."
"Enough."
Silence pressed in-heavy, deliberate. Seraphyne straightened, her wings folding tighter, her expression settling into something obedient enough to pass.
"You know why you stand before us."
"I know you never summon without hunger," she replied. "Whose is it this time?"
"Do not interrupt."
"I thought you preferred initiative."
"This is not a game."
"It never is," she said softly. "That's why you call me."
A faint shift rippled through the unseen voices.
"You have completed every contract."
"I am flawless."
"You are efficient."
"That too."
"Do not confuse praise with permission."
Seraphyne smiled. "Then tell me the task."
"A human."
Her brow arched. "That's new."
"He is not prey."
"Then why involve me?"
"He is a key."
Seraphyne's smile thinned. "Keys open doors."
"Yes."
"And doors," she said carefully, "are rarely opened without cost."
"Correct."
"Whose cost?"
The pause was deliberate. Calculated.
"You will seduce him."
She exhaled a quiet laugh. "You summoned me for seduction?"
"You will bind him."
"Expected."
"You will awaken his soul."
Her fingers curled at her sides. "That requires intimacy beyond flesh."
"You are capable."
"I am," she agreed. "But such awakenings are... unstable."
"You will manage."
"You always demand perfection," she said. "You rarely disclose consequences."
"Consequences are irrelevant."
"They are never irrelevant," Seraphyne countered. "They are simply postponed."
A murmur passed through the chamber, disapproval threading through it.
"You will not linger."
"I never do."
"You will not deviate."
"I never have."
"You will not grow attached."
Seraphyne laughed, a sound like silk dragged over steel. "Attachment is a human flaw."
"Do not underestimate it."
"Do not insult me."
"The human," the voices said, sharper now, "is named Elias Crowe."
The name landed wrong.
Her breath stuttered-brief, traitorous.
She masked it instantly. "Names are meaningless."
"His is not."
"Then why give it to me?"
"Because you will need it."
"For what?"
"To call him."
"To bind him," she said slowly.
"To open him."
Seraphyne's gaze narrowed. "You speak as though he is willing."
"He will be."
"No human is ever entirely willing."
"You will ensure consent."
Her lips parted. "Consent?"
"You know the law."
"I do," she said. "Feeding without it corrupts the gate."
"Precisely."
"So he must desire me."
"Yes."
"And trust me."
"Yes."
"And love-"
"Do not say that word."
Seraphyne's smile returned, softer now. "You are afraid of it."
"We are cautious."
"You are afraid," she repeated.
"Enough."
The heat intensified, a warning. She bowed her head a fraction-just enough.
"What is he?" she asked.
"A man."
"That is not an answer."
"He is human."
"Lying by omission is still lying."
"You are not entitled to more."
"I am entitled to success."
"Then do your work."
"And when the door opens?" she pressed.
"The gate will awaken."
"And when the gate awakens?"
"The realm will benefit."
"Which realm?" she asked lightly.
Another pause. Longer.
"Yours is not to question."
"Then tell me," Seraphyne said, voice cool, "why my presence feels... excessive."
"You were chosen for your precision."
"I was chosen," she said, "because you expect complications."
Silence.
"You were chosen," the voices said at last, "because you will not hesitate."
Seraphyne lifted her chin. "I have never hesitated."
"You will not fail."
"I do not fail."
"You will not bond."
"I do not bond."
"You will complete the ritual."
"Yes."
"You will return immediately."
"Yes."
"And when the gate opens," they added, "you will step aside."
Her eyes flickered. "Aside?"
"The mechanism does not require you beyond activation."
"So I am a hand on the lever."
"You are a necessary instrument."
"Instruments break," she said.
"They are replaced."
A thin smile curved her mouth. "You speak of me as though I am disposable."
"You speak of yourself as though you are not."
Seraphyne laughed again, though it sounded tighter this time. "Very well. Tell me where to find him."
"The human realm."
"Charming."
"He will find you."
"Always comforting to know."
"You will wear a form he desires."
"I always do."
"You will speak truths mixed with lies."
"My specialty."
"You will let him believe he chose you."
"That is the easiest part."
"Do not underestimate him."
"Now you intrigue me."
"He observes."
"So do I."
"He questions."
"So do I."
"He resists."
Her smile sharpened. "No one resists forever."
"You will not harm him prematurely."
"I am not careless."
"You will not drain him fully."
"I understand the balance."
"You will not kill him."
"Not unless ordered."
"You will not be ordered."
Seraphyne tilted her head. "You sound... protective."
"He is essential."
"Everything is essential," she murmured, "until it isn't."
A pressure settled over her shoulders-the contract forming.
"Do you accept?"
She closed her eyes briefly. The chamber hummed, expectant.
"I accept."
"Speak it clearly."
"I accept the contract."
"By name."
She hesitated-just a heartbeat.
"Seraphyne," she said. "Bound by will and hunger."
"And the target?"
Her tongue felt heavy. "Elias Crowe."
The chamber flared.
Her power surged-and recoiled.
She stiffened. "There it is again."
"What?"
"That resistance," she said quietly. "You feel it, don't you?"
"We feel nothing."
"You are lying."
"Proceed."
"There is something wrong," she insisted. "That soul-"
"Enough."
"You would send me blind?"
"You will see when you touch him."
"That may be too late."
"You will manage."
"I always do," she said-but her voice lacked its earlier ease.
"Go."
The pressure released. The heat receded.
As the chamber began to dissolve, Seraphyne spoke once more, softer, unguarded.
"There is something wrong with that soul."