Riven Calder woke up with a headache that felt personal.
Not the normal "I slept wrong" kind.
This was sharper. Focused. Like something inside his skull was tapping a finger and saying, you don't get to forget anymore.
He stayed still for a full minute, staring at the cracked ceiling of the rented room.
Cheap wood. Damp smell. One crooked nail holding up a faded curtain that did nothing to stop the morning light.
Still here.
Still alive.
And worse—still bound.
His first instinct was to check his chest.
The mark wasn't visible. It never was. But the pressure was there, faint and warm, like a hand resting over his heart that refused to move.
Maelis Thorn.
The name surfaced uninvited.
Riven clicked his tongue softly. "Yeah, yeah. I remember."
No system notice.
No dramatic warning.
That silence was worse.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair, then froze when he noticed the tremor in his fingers.
Annoying.
He hated weakness when it wasn't useful.
"Great," he muttered. "Day five in a new world and my body's already picking favorites."
As he stood, the room tilted—just slightly—before settling again.
Not sickness.
Feedback.
He felt it now. Clearer than before.
Every movement, every breath… something was measuring him.
Judging.
Like a ledger being updated in real time.
He exhaled slowly. "You're really not subtle, are you?"
Still nothing.
Fine. Play silent.
He dressed quickly, muscles remembering motions his mind didn't recall learning. The body belonged here more than his thoughts ever would.
When he stepped outside, the city greeted him with noise and indifference.
Stone streets. Vendors shouting prices that changed depending on who listened. A pair of kids running past, arguing about who cheated first.
Normal.
Too normal.
Riven walked without direction at first, letting his feet decide. That's when he noticed it—the pull.
Not physical.
Emotional.
A faint tug in his chest, warm and irritating, like a thread pulled just tight enough to be noticed.
He stopped.
"Don't tell me," he said under his breath. "Already?"
The pull didn't answer.
It didn't need to.
Maelis wasn't nearby—but she was aware.
Jealousy didn't come as rage.
It came as… weight.
Like the world pressing a little harder on his ribs.
Riven laughed once, sharp and humorless. "You've got to be kidding me."
He hadn't touched another woman. Hadn't even looked.
And yet—
So that's how it works.
Not control.
Connection.
Not chains.
Pressure.
Interesting.
Dangerous.
He rolled his shoulders and kept walking, deliberately turning toward the busier district.
If the system wanted bonds to tighten, he'd learn exactly how much tension they could take before snapping.
The tavern wasn't his plan.
It just… happened.
Warm light. Loud voices. The smell of alcohol and poor decisions.
Riven hesitated at the entrance.
Bad idea, whispered the rational part of his brain.
Which is exactly why he went in.
The place was packed. Mercenaries. Travelers. People with stories they'd never tell honestly.
He ordered something cheap and bitter and leaned against the counter.
That's when he felt it.
Not Maelis.
Something colder.
Sharper.
Like being looked at by someone who already decided you mattered.
Riven turned his head slowly.
She sat alone at a corner table, posture straight, expression bored in a way that suggested power, not disinterest.
Dark hair. Controlled. Elegant without trying.
Noble.
Dangerous.
Her eyes met his.
And didn't move away.
Riven raised his mug slightly in mock salute.
She didn't respond.
She stood.
The room seemed to give her space without realizing it.
She stopped in front of him, gaze flicking briefly to his hand—then to his chest.
Not the mark.
The absence of restraint.
"Interesting," she said calmly.
Riven took a sip. "That's usually what people say before things get expensive."
A faint smile. Calculated.
"Riven Calder," she said.
Not a question.
He set the mug down. Slowly. "You're ahead of me."
"Vireya Caelmont," she replied. "And yes. I am."
There it was.
The system didn't announce it.
But his chest did.
The warmth flared—then twisted.
Not jealousy.
Competition.
Riven exhaled through his nose. "Let me guess. You didn't come to flirt."
"On the contrary," Vireya said. "I came to evaluate."
"Same thing with better manners."
Her smile sharpened.
At that exact moment—
[Affinity Ledger Updated]
[New Potential Bond Detected]
[Bond Type: Power / Politics]
[Warning: Existing Bonds Will React]
The pressure hit him like a wave.
Not pain.
A claim.
Maelis felt it.
He felt her feeling it.
Riven's jaw tightened.
So this is the game.
Vireya watched his reaction closely. "You're already bound."
"Observant."
"And yet," she continued, voice low, "you're still standing here."
He met her gaze. "You didn't walk over here to admire my self-control."
Silence stretched.
Then she leaned closer. Just enough.
"I walked over," she said softly, "because men who survive with one chain usually end up wearing many."
The warmth in his chest twisted again.
This time, something else stirred beneath it.
Interest.
Not attraction.
Potential.
Riven smiled—slow, crooked, human.
"Careful," he said. "I charge interest."
Vireya's smile mirrored his.
"I own debt," she replied.
Somewhere deep inside—
The ledger waited.
And Riven realized something uncomfortable.
This world didn't punish desire.
It weaponized it.
And he was already bleeding.