I spent every cent of my savings on a high-tier incubus from the Underground. As it turned out, he hated me for being poor. He despised the cramped, drafty apartment I called home. I once overheard him complaining to his brother: "A woman with no money and even less beauty? I wouldn't take her if she were gift-wrapped." I stood in the shadows that day, looking at his brother—a man who walked with a slight limp but possessed the kindest eyes I’d ever seen—and I realized I’d invested in the wrong person. Later, I sold my place and brought the brother home, too. That’s when the first one panicked. With eyes rimmed in red, he grabbed my sleeve and whispered, "Are you… are you throwing me away?" 1 My pet incubus was a nightmare. He didn’t listen, he was cruel, and last night, he bit me. When I woke up and stood before the bathroom mirror to brush my teeth, I couldn't stop staring at the mark on my neck. It had deepened into a bruised, sickly purple. I hissed as my fingers brushed against it. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter, that it would fade in a few days, but then I looked at my own face in the glass—plain, tired, unremarkable—and my eyes filled with tears. Rylan loathed me. He loathed everything about me. He hated my voice, my face, and especially this tiny, ancient apartment in a neighborhood that had seen better decades. We’d had a blowout fight last night. In the heat of it, he finally stopped pretending and let the truth bleed out. "Maddie, you’re the one who liquidated your entire life to buy me," he’d spat, his voice laced with venom. "I didn't choose you. If I had a choice, I’d never have taken you as a Mistress, and I damn sure wouldn't be rotting away in this pathetic dump." I’d been desperate then, still clinging to a ghost of hope. "But it’s been a year, Rylan. Don't you feel anything for me?" "Nothing. Not a single thing." He was tied to the headboard at the time, unable to move, but his eyes were predatory and sharp. His answer was instantaneous. That was the moment the last flicker of warmth in my chest went cold. I splashed freezing water on my face, taking deep breaths until the tears retreated. Then, I dug through my drawer for a heavy-duty concealer, layering it over the bite mark until the shame was hidden beneath a beige mask. 2 Rylan was still locked in the bedroom. Before heading to the office, I went in to untie him. He was sitting on the rug, his head down, long lashes fluttering. He was faking sleep; I knew his tells by now. I knelt beside him and began working on the restraints around his wrists. "Rylan," I said softly. He didn't move. He kept his eyes clamped shut. "I’m going to work. I’m letting you go, but you have to promise me you’ll stay put. Just stay home today." "Ha. If you don't want to let me go, just say it. Stop acting like you’re doing me a favor." Rylan opened his eyes, his face a mask of pure irritation. I didn't argue. I just gave him a tired, sad smile and clicked the last buckle open. He seemed stunned by how quickly I gave in. He sat there, his dark, almond-shaped eyes fixed on me. "You’re actually letting me go? I never said I’d be here when you got back." He was always trying to run. Even though I held his contract and he couldn't get far, catching him was a chore I was starting to lose the energy for. I nodded, feeling a weight in my bones that sleep couldn't fix. "Fine. Just… take the house keys." 3 I’d bought Rylan last winter in the Underground. There wasn't some grand romantic reason for it. He was just breathtakingly beautiful—tall, broad-shouldered, with a waist so lean it looked sculpted. At the auction, I’d seen his brother, Jude. They were twins, almost identical, except for one thing: Rylan was physically perfect, while Jude’s left leg was mangled, leaving him with a permanent limp. I only had enough money for one. I figured if I was going to spend my life with an incubus, I shouldn't settle for "damaged goods." I paid the premium and took the "perfect" one. But a year later, my life was a mess of anxiety and heartache. Sitting at my desk at work, staring blankly at my computer screen, I pulled up my banking app. A few thousand dollars. That was all I had left. I sighed. Maybe I should stop daydreaming about "what ifs." 4 "Maddie, the boss is grabbing drinks tonight. You in?" My coworker, Sarah, popped over to my cubicle as the clock neared five. I shook my head. She tapped her temple and grinned. "Right, I forgot. You’ve got that gorgeous specimen waiting at home. I bet he’s already got dinner on the table, huh?" Rylan? Cooking? He was more likely to burn the building down out of spite. I forced a smile, but before I could explain, Sarah sighed dreamily. "I’m so jealous. It really makes the 9-to-5 worth it, doesn't it? I’m saving up for a premium model myself." I didn't want to crush her spirit, so I just offered one piece of advice: "When you buy, go to a licensed agency. Stay away from the black markets. There’s no return policy there." "Got it. Noted!" Usually, I was the first one out the door. Today, I lingered for thirty minutes, slowly packing my bag. I checked the home security feed on my phone. Empty. Rylan was gone again. My heart felt like a tangled knot. Instead of going home to an empty apartment, I started walking. I walked until the neon lights of the city faded into the dim, flickering lanterns of the Underground. 5 The place was a labyrinth of shadows and rot. The air smelled of damp earth and something metallic. The stalls were lined with cages—beast-kin, half-shifters, some looking sickly, their horns sawed off, their spirits broken. "Hey, lady! Take a look at this one. Purebred fae-blood, half price!" I looked away, quickening my pace. I was broke; I couldn't help them even if I wanted to. I followed the familiar, grimy path to the shop where I’d bought Rylan. The shop was still open. The owner was dozing in a chair by the door. I slipped past him, moving quietly toward the back courtyard where the "stock" was kept. I hadn't even reached the gate when I heard a familiar voice. "Jude, has anyone even looked at you lately?" It was Rylan. He hadn't run away to be free; he’d run here to see his brother. 6 I stayed hidden behind the heavy iron door, listening. "A client came by twice last week," Jude’s voice was raspy, softer than Rylan’s. "But she didn't want to pay the processing fee. Not for a cripple. Nobody wants a broken toy, Rylan." "If you hadn't tried to save me when we were kids… if those traffickers hadn't broken your leg to keep you from running… it’s my fault, Jude. I’m so sorry." "Stop it. It was never your fault." Jude was in a cage, the heavy collar around his neck making it difficult for him to speak, yet his tone remained incredibly gentle. "I don't regret it. You’re free now, Rylan. You aren't 'merchandise' anymore. Forget about the past." Rylan spat on the ground, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Free? You think I’m free? The woman who bought me keeps me on a shorter leash than the shop owner did. She’s terrified I’ll bolt." Hearing him talk about me made my chest tighten. My heart began to hammer against my ribs. "She’s exhausting. Honestly, I’d rather be back here in the cage than stuck with her." Rylan groaned. "She’s plain, she’s poor… the clothes she buys me are literal rags. I’ve only been there a year and I already can't imagine spending the rest of my life like this. It’s pathetic." "Don't talk like that," Jude interrupted. "Beginnings are always hard. The woman I saw that day… she looked kind. I think she’ll treat you well if you let her." "Kind? She’s a nightmare. She ties me up every night. Look, I still have the marks on my wrists." Rylan rolled up his sleeves. "I’m done with it, Jude. I wish you could take my place. I wish you had to deal with that ugly woman instead of me." "She’s your Mistress, Rylan. It’s her right. And she isn't ugly. Don't be cruel." "It’s just the truth. She’s nothing." 7 Every word felt like a serrated blade across my skin. A bitter, acidic taste rose in my throat. I couldn't listen anymore. I turned to leave, but my foot caught an empty tin can. Clang. Both men went silent. Their eyes snapped toward the door. Jude saw me first. He froze, then his lips curved into a heartbreakingly submissive, tentative smile. Rylan, however, looked like he’d been slapped. His face went pale, then turned a deep, embarrassed red. "You… what are you doing here?" I forced my voice to remain steady. "I came to bring you home." Without waiting for a response, I turned and bolted back toward the street. 8 "Hey! Maddie!" Rylan caught up to me, grabbing my sleeve. "Why are you walking so fast?" I didn't look at him. I jerked my arm away and kept moving. But all I could see was Jude’s smile. He was so different from Rylan. Jude had a tiny beauty mark just beneath his left eye; when he smiled, it moved in a way that felt… genuine. "How long were you standing there?" Rylan asked, his voice wavering. "Did you hear what I said to my brother?" Jude’s leg. He’d lost his mobility saving his brother. He was the one who deserved a life. Not Rylan. "Hey! Answer me! Stop acting like a statue." Rylan’s voice rose, grating on my nerves. I stopped and looked at him. "I heard it. All of it." Rylan choked on his next breath. He looked panicked for a split second before his arrogance returned. "Well… it’s the truth. You do tie me up." "Yes. It’s all true. I’m ugly, I’m poor, and I’m a monster. In your eyes, I’m the villain of your story." I didn't yell. I didn't even sound angry. I just sounded hollow. Rylan went quiet. He followed me the rest of the way home with his head down, not saying another word. As we walked, I stole glances at him. He was striking—easily the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. But the black hoodie he was wearing was a cheap, twenty-dollar find from a discount bin. It was pilling at the cuffs. It matched the one I was wearing. He was right. If a wealthy socialite had bought him, he’d be draped in silk and living in a penthouse. I couldn't blame him for hating me. 9 When we got back to the apartment, I didn't reach for the restraints. I didn't lecture him about running off. I showered, went straight to the bedroom, and locked the door behind me. My mind was racing, but for the first time in a year, it wasn't about Rylan. Knock. Knock. Knock. In the middle of the night, a voice drifted through the door. "Maddie? Are you awake?" "What do you want, Rylan?" "Open the door. I want to talk to you." I stayed under the covers, staring at the wall. I must have drifted off, because when I opened my eyes again, a dark silhouette was standing by my bed. Rylan had found the spare key. He stood there, perfectly still, watching me. I sat up, pulling the duvet to my chest. "What are you doing?" Rylan’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. His tail flicked nervously behind him. "About earlier…" "I’m sorry." The words came out in a rush, as if they burned his tongue. I yawned and waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. I forgive you. Now get out." He didn't move. I patted the pillow beside me. "What, do you want to sleep here?" Despite his hatred for me, we’d slept in the same bed every night for a year. Even when we fought, we shared the space. Now that I was pushing him away, he seemed lost. Rylan climbed in, shedding his hoodie. His arms found their usual place around my waist, his tail curling tentatively around my ankle. "I’m exhausted. Just go to sleep." I shifted, creating a deliberate gap between our bodies. Rylan stiffened. "Oh, come on. You think I want to be touching you?" I moved even further away, toward the very edge of the mattress. Rylan let out a frustrated growl. "Fine! You’re being so dramatic today!" He yanked the covers over his head and turned his back to me.
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