Next day 1

Arya unlocked the heavy wooden door and stepped into the dim room. Her heart thumped as she saw Ethan in the candlelight, his muscular body wrapped in a thin bedsheet. Their eyes met and a spark of electricity shot through her. She felt exposed under his gaze, though she was fully clothed. Ethan didn't look away, staring at her with an intensity that made her cheeks burn.

She cleared her throat. "I've brought you some clothes."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "How thoughtful." His voice was like velvet, soft and smooth.

Arya busied herself setting a pile of folded clothes on the table, avoiding his eyes. Why was she reacting this way? It didn't make sense. She barely knew this man.

"Have we met before?" Ethan asked.

Her heart skipped a beat."I saved your life. I healed you from the injuries inflicted by flogging and the high fever that came about when those wounds became infested with bacteria. You owe me. And we have business to discuss."

Ethan arched an eyebrow. "On what, exactly?"

"The runes," she said, irritation flickering through her. Did he have to make this difficult? "You do know how to draw Yang runes, don't you?"

"I've had some experience with them," he said casually.

"Good," she said. "Then we have an agreement." She strode to the door, eager to escape the tension humming between them.

"Agreement?" Ethan echoed. "You haven't told me the terms yet."

"Get dressed first." Arya made no effort to leave him alone. Instead, she watched intently as he dropped the bedclothes and began dressing himself wordlessly, biting her lower lip all the while.

Ethan's body was a work of art, even though he had been undernourished. His tanned skin stretched over his well-defined muscles, rippling with each movement. He was strong and rugged, yet no fat marred the view. His cock stood semi-erected, showing its impressive length and thickness. Arya felt her cheeks flush as she averted her gaze from it.

He pulled on a pair of dark pants that fit him like a glove, emphasizing the strength of his thighs and calves. He donned a tight black shirt that accentuated the defined lines of his chest and arms, making it clear to everyone who saw him that he was not someone to be messed with. To complete the look, Ethan ran his fingers through his tousled hair before letting it fall naturally to frame his chiseled face.

Arya swallowed hard as she admired Ethan in all his glory before finally finding her voice again."Now we can discuss terms," she said, feeling bolder now that he was dressed again.

"You will draw Yang runes on my body, and in exchange, I will give you access to your magic again. But since you are a criminal in the eyes of the state and the Lodge, I cannot let you go free. Instead, you will be under my supervision at all times."

"All the time...?" Ethan asked in a low voice.

"Yes, all the time."

Ethan's eyes darkened, flickering over her in a way that made heat pool low in her belly. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Is that so?"

Arya's heart pounded. 'What had she gotten herself into?'Giving Ethan access to his magic again came with risks, and she couldn't deny the attraction simmering between them.

She tried to focus her thoughts. This was a matter of need, not want. She required a wizard to give her Yang runes so she could access magical power in this realm; without them, she only had her guardian skills, which were not nearly enough. Ethan served as the gateway to those symbols, nothing else.

POV: Ethan

Ethan grapples with the proposition. On one hand, If Arya draws Yin runes on his body, it would mean that he would get his magic back. What kind of magic he would get depended on which runes she chose to draw. Probably mind and body runes. Which was relatively harmless.

Ethan's heart raced as he considered the offer. To have his magic back, after all these years...it was almost too much to hope for. And yet, the price was steep. Constant supervision meant a loss of freedom and autonomy and put him at Arya's mercy. He would be a fool to trust her so easily.

It had been ages since he'd felt that familiar buzz of real magic, not just the mana coursing through his veins. He wanted to feel that power again—it was like a craving, an overwhelming need.

He met Arya's gaze, noticing the flush on her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She desired this as much as he did, though for different reasons. But he would not be manipulated so easily.

"I agree," he said at last, "but with conditions. You will give me free reign to determine which runes are drawn, and where. And you will allow me a measure of autonomy, so long as I do not attempt to escape."

Arya just looked at Ethan and answered. "No! You do as I say or you will be chained in a dungeon for the rest of your life. And that could be a long time as wizards can live hundreds of years."

Ethan thought for a moment before he answered. He knew she was right, and he had no other choice. He nodded, and then said, "Fine."

Arya smiled triumphantly. "Good," she said.

"Come with me to my room. I still can't trust you so you will need to be close to me. Tonight you can sleep on the floor and we'll get an extra bed tomorrow."

With those words, Arya turned on her heel and headed for her room.

---

Ethan stepped into Arya's bedroom and was immediately taken aback by the sheer magnitude of her opulence. The room pulsed with a regal presence, from the high ceilings that towered over him to the walls draped in muted shades of power. At its center stood an imposing wooden bed that gleamed, the intricately carved details almost seeming alive in the soft light. Crisp white sheets and plump, inviting pillows signaled a space made for restful slumber.

A cozy seating area boasted inviting armchairs covered in sumptuous fabrics, their neutral colors complementing the already-stunning palette of the room. Together with large windows hung heavy with flowing curtains, gentle streams of natural light spilled in, allowing one to be enveloped in a world of luxury and tranquility.

And in one of the corners was a magnificent claw-footed bathtub. Its marble surface shimmered in the gentle light, beckoning one to take a relaxing soak in its depths. It was clear Arya had spared no expense in making her bath as inviting and elegant as possible.

"We will begin the ritual tomorrow morning. You may address me as 'mistress' from now on," Arya said, a coy smile playing about her lips. She slid the kimono off one shoulder, baring the smooth slope of her neck and collarbone.

Ethan gritted his teeth, fingers tightening to a fist. "I will call you by your name, and nothing else."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a look of cool amusement. "Very well" she purred. "You have a rebellious streak."

A memory flickered at the edge of his mind, a glimpse of laughter and silken sheets. Ethan shoved it away, pulse pounding in his ears. There was no time for distractions, no room for error. He had to stay focused.

"If you do not obey me, there will be consequences," Arya warned, sliding her kimono further down to reveal the swell of her breasts.

Ethan set his jaw, refusing to look away. "And if you do not cooperate, there will be consequences for you as well." His fingers curled into a fist, Yang mana stirring under his skin. How he longed to wipe that smug smile from her face.

Arya's eyes darkened with desire, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Is that a threat?"

"Take it however you like," Ethan said, shrugging one shoulder. He turned abruptly and started walking towards the door.

"Ethan, you're not going anywhere. Either they're chained in a dungeon or you're where I am. And you can't run away from me. I'm a warlock and you are a wizard without runes. No runes, no magic."

Ethan stopped at the sound of her voice, his feet itching to be free. He turned to face her, his eyes hard. He was done with Arya's games. "I am not a dog that can be chained. I am a man. And you'd do well to remember that," he said, a deep growl in his throat.

"So you're threatening me now?" Arya asked, her expression darkening.

POV: Arya

He was a criminal, one who had broken the law. She had no qualms about imprisoning him. But he stirred up so many different emotions in her. And not only that, he was so damn hot...

Ethan paced across the room, his body tense. He was a wolf in a cage, looking for an escape. She had no intention of giving him one. Not until she was certain he wouldn't run.

"I'm not going to be your puppet."

"For for the time being I am your mistress, whether you like it or not."

Ethan continued circling the room, and Arya watched him with interest. When he finally stopped he was facing her. She couldn't read the look in his eyes, but something was simmering behind them.

"What do you want?" he asked.