Theron's POV
Four of us stood in my destroyed chamber—three men who wanted Lysander dead, and one man kneeling on the floor between us like he was waiting to be executed.
This was a disaster.
Evren Quillan's magic crackled through the air, making my skin prickle. The archmage looked calm on the surface, but I'd known him long enough to recognize the fury burning beneath his controlled expression.
"Stand down, Evren," I commanded, keeping my sword pointed at Daelon while trying to watch both of them. "This is my palace. My prisoner. Neither of you has authority here."
"Authority?" Evren laughed, cold and bitter. "This man destroyed my reputation, exposed my personal secrets to the entire Royal Academy, and ruined five years of research. I don't need authority. I need revenge."
"Get in line," Daelon growled, his hands twitching toward his daggers again. "I've been waiting two years to make him suffer."
"I've waited five," I snapped. "He got my mother executed. So both of you can wait a little longer while I decide what happens to him."
"Why wait?" Evren's gray eyes glowed with power. "We're all here. All four of us with legitimate grievances. Let's end this tonight and divide the punishment equally."
He was right. Logically, perfectly right. We could torture Lysander together, make him pay for every life he'd ruined, and finally get closure.
So why did every instinct in my body scream against it?
I looked down at Lysander, still kneeling silently while three dangerous men argued over how to kill him. He hadn't tried to run. Hadn't begged for mercy. Just knelt there with tears on his face, accepting whatever fate we decided.
That submissive acceptance did something to me I didn't want to examine too closely.
"No," I said firmly.
All three of them stared at me.
"No?" Evren repeated, his eyebrows rising. "Theron, he murdered Daelon's sister. He tortured Caius until he broke. He got your mother killed. And you're protecting him?"
"I'm not protecting him. I'm claiming him." The words came out before I fully thought them through, but once they were out, I realized they were true. "He kneeled in front of my entire court tonight and swore himself to me. That makes him mine by law and custom. If anyone touches him without my permission, they're challenging my authority as crown prince."
Daelon's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can't possibly be serious."
"Deadly serious." I moved to stand directly over Lysander, making my claim physical and obvious. "He's offered complete submission to me. I accept. Which means his punishment, his life, his everything—all belong to me now."
"This is insane," Evren said flatly. "You're letting personal interest override justice."
Maybe I was. Probably I was. But something about having Lysander surrender to me—having that arrogant, cruel duke bow his head and offer himself completely—satisfied something dark and hungry inside me that I hadn't known existed.
I didn't just want him dead anymore. I wanted him mine.
"You want revenge?" I addressed both Evren and Daelon. "Fine. Stay in the palace as my guests. Watch him. Test him. See if this transformation is real or fake. But you don't kill him without my approval. Those are my terms."
"And if we refuse?" Daelon asked quietly, his hand on his dagger hilt.
"Then you leave my palace now and become enemies of the crown." I let steel enter my voice. "Choose carefully."
Long silence. Evren and Daelon exchanged glances, some unspoken communication passing between them.
Finally, Evren shrugged. "Fine. I'll play your game, Theron. But I reserve the right to test dear Lysander's sincerity in my own ways."
"As long as you don't kill him, test however you like," I agreed.
Daelon hesitated longer, his crimson eyes still locked on Lysander's bowed head. "I want access to him. Private access. To make sure he truly regrets what he did to Selene."
The possessive part of me wanted to refuse. Wanted to keep Lysander locked away where only I could reach him. But that would reveal too much about these confusing feelings churning in my chest.
"Supervised access," I countered. "In my presence or with guards watching."
"Deal." Daelon's smile was sharp as a blade. "This should be interesting."
I turned my attention back to Lysander, who'd been silent through this entire negotiation. "Stand up."
He rose slowly on shaking legs, keeping his eyes downcast. Submissive. Obedient. Everything the real Lysander had never been.
It was intoxicating.
I stepped closer, invading his personal space. He didn't back away. I reached out and tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet my gaze.
"You understand what you've agreed to?" I asked quietly. "You've given yourself to me completely. That means I own you. Your freedom, your choices, your body—all mine. There's no taking it back."
"I understand," he whispered, his ice-blue eyes shimmering with tears.
My thumb traced along his jawline. His breath hitched but he didn't pull away. "Good. Because I'm going to test this submission of yours. Push you. Break you down and rebuild you. And if I find out you've been lying—if this is all an elaborate manipulation—I'll make your death last for months."
"I'm not lying," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I swear I'm not."
I wanted to believe him. God help me, I actually wanted to believe him.
"We'll see." I released his chin but caught his wrist instead, my fingers circling the delicate bones. "You'll move into the room adjoining mine. You'll eat when I say, sleep when I say, go where I say. You don't leave my sight without permission. Understood?"
He nodded quickly. "Yes, Your Highness."
"Good boy," I murmured, and watched color flood his cheeks.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Behind me, Evren made a disgusted sound. "If you two are quite finished with whatever this is, I have terms of my own."
I turned, not releasing Lysander's wrist. "Speak."
"I want him to assist with my magical research," Evren said, his gray eyes calculating. "He owes me five years of work he destroyed. I'll take it back in service. He'll be my test subject for experimental spells."
"Experimental?" I frowned. "Define that."
"Nothing lethal," Evren assured me with a cold smile. "Just... uncomfortable. Painful, perhaps. But it's only fair he suffers for his crimes, don't you think?"
I looked at Lysander. "What do you say?"
"If it helps pay for what I did, I'll do it," he said quietly.
The fact that he didn't even hesitate, didn't try to negotiate or escape—it sent another wave of dark satisfaction through me.
"Fine. Two hours per day with Evren," I decided. "Under supervision."
"Acceptable." Evren's smile widened. "This will be educational for both of us."
"What about me?" Daelon interjected. "What do I get?"
I considered. Daelon was the most dangerous of the three because his grief made him unpredictable. I needed to give him something or he'd try to take it by force.
"One hour per day," I offered. "You can question him about Selene. Make him face what he did. But no permanent damage."
Daelon's eyes gleamed. "Oh, I don't need to damage him to make him suffer. One hour is plenty." He looked at Lysander with dark promise. "I'm very creative."
Lysander swallowed hard but nodded. "I accept."
"Excellent," I said. "Then we all have an arrangement. Lysander stays alive and serves his penance to all of us. In return, none of you kill him without my permission."
"For now," Evren added. "This arrangement lasts only as long as his transformation seems genuine. The moment he slips back into his old ways—"
"Then we end him together," Daelon finished.
I nodded. "Agreed."
The tension in the room eased slightly, though it didn't disappear entirely. We'd reached a temporary truce, but it was fragile as glass.
"Guards!" I called.
Two soldiers appeared at the destroyed doorway, carefully avoiding the broken glass.
"Escort Duke Corvith to the adjoining chambers. Post watch outside. He's not to leave without my direct order."
The guards bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."
I released Lysander's wrist reluctantly. "Go. Rest. Tomorrow your new life begins."
He looked at me with those wide, frightened eyes. "Thank you for not letting them kill me."
"Don't thank me yet," I said softly. "You might wish I had once you see what serving all four of us actually means."
He left with the guards, and I watched him go, feeling that strange reluctance to let him out of my sight.
When the door closed, Evren spoke. "You're playing with fire, Theron. He's dangerous."
"I know."
"And you're developing feelings for him," Daelon added, too observant for comfort. "That's even more dangerous."
"I'm not—" I started to deny it, but stopped. Was I? Did I have feelings for Lysander beyond rage and the desire for revenge?
Before I could answer, a servant burst in, face pale with terror.
"Your Highness! Emergency from the medical wing! Sir Caius—he's collapsed! He's bleeding from old wounds that shouldn't have reopened, and the healers say he's been poisoned. Slow-acting poison that's been in his system for weeks. They don't know if he'll survive the night!"
My blood turned to ice. "What?"
"The healers found evidence of tampering with his medication. Someone's been poisoning him slowly." The servant's eyes filled with tears. "They say whoever did it had intimate knowledge of his torture wounds. They've been targeting his weakest points deliberately."
I turned to Daelon and Evren, cold certainty filling me. "Only one person knows the exact details of Caius's torture."
Lysander.
Had I just made the worst mistake of my life by trusting him?