[BL] I Didn't Sign Up For This Chapter 4: In Which I Learn Some Very Inconvenient Facts

I lasted approximately forty-five minutes before I tried to escape.

Look, I’m not proud of it. Well, actually, I’m a little proud of it. Forty-five minutes of sitting in a demon’s penthouse, processing the fact that I was apparently married to said demon, before attempting a jailbreak? That’s pretty good impulse control, all things considered.

The coffee helped. I’m not going to lie, it was the best coffee I’d ever had. Perfectly brewed, rich and smooth, exactly the right temperature, which sohow made everything worse because now I was trapped in a supernatural marriage ’and’ I’d have to go back to my terrible office coffee when this nightmare ended.

If it ended.

When Azryth didn’t return after twenty minutes, I started exploring. The bedroom led to a bathroom that was bigger than my entire apartnt. Marble everything, a shower that could fit six people, a bathtub that looked like a small pool, towels so soft they were probably illegal.

My clothes were indeed in the closet, looking weirdly out of place next to what I assud were Azryth’s designer suits. My ratty jeans and graphic tees (I had one that said "I Void Warranties" that I was particularly fond of) hung next to fabric that probably cost more per square inch than my rent.

Soone had also added new clothes. Expensive ones, shirts that felt like butter, pants that actually fit. I pretended not to notice that they were exactly my size.

The study contained my laptop, my books, even my stupid collection of novelty USB drives. Everything organized with the kind of efficiency that suggested professional movers, not demonic kidnapping.

Except it ’was’ demonic kidnapping. No matter how nice the prison.

That’s when I decided to leave.

The plan was simple: walk out, get to the street, find the nearest police station or church or ’sothing’, and figure out how to undo a demonic binding contract.

Easy.

The penthouse door wasn’t locked, that should’ve been my first warning sign.

I stepped into a hallway that scread wealth and power. More art on the walls, actual sculptures on pedestals, lighting that was sohow both subtle and dramatic.

An elevator at the end of the hall, doors gleaming chro.

I pressed the button, the doors opened imdiately, I stepped inside.

Still no one stopping , no alarms, no demonic security guards.

Second warning sign, completely ignored.

The elevator ride down from the top floor took forever, I watched the numbers tick down, my heart hamring, any second now, sothing would stop . Azryth would appear, the elevator would malfunction, sothing.

Nothing happened.

The doors opened onto a lobby that looked like a five-star hotel had a baby with a modern art museum. Marble floors, soaring ceilings, a reception desk staffed by beautiful people in beautiful suits.

They all looked at .

"Mr. Kael," the woman at the desk said, smiling like we were old friends. "Good morning, can we help you with sothing?"

They knew my na. Of course they knew my na, I was apparently married to their boss now.

"I’m just... going out," I said, aiming for casual and probably landing sowhere around "obviously lying."

"Of course, have a wonderful day."

That was it. No questions, no attempts to stop .

Third warning sign. Still ignored, because I’m apparently an idiot.

I walked toward the glass doors leading to the street. Through them, I could see the city. Freedom. Escape. My old life waiting for just beyond that threshold.

I pushed through the doors.

And that’s when everything went wrong.

The mont I crossed the threshold, sothing ’pulled’, like an invisible rope tied around my chest, yanking backward. The air turned thick, resistant, like walking through water. No, not water. Concrete.

My vision blurred, the sunlight suddenly seed too bright, the sounds of the city too loud. Everything was overwhelming, pressing in from all sides.

Then ca the pain.

It started in my chest, right where I’d felt the binding settle last night, a dull ache that rapidly escalated to agony, like sothing was being torn out of , piece by piece, cell by cell.

My knees buckled. I grabbed for the doorfra, missed, stumbled forward onto the sidewalk.

The world tilted. Colors bled together, I couldn’t breathe properly, each inhale feeling like I was trying to breathe through a straw.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"

Soone’s voice, distant and echoing, I tried to respond, but my tongue felt too heavy.

The pain intensified. Spreading from my chest to my limbs, my head, every inch of my body screaming that sothing was fundantally ’wrong’. The sigil on my wrist burned, bright enough that I could see it through my closed eyelids.

I was dying. I had to be dying. Nothing could hurt this much without ending in death.

Then the pain stopped.

Not gradually. Just... gone. Like soone had flipped a switch.

I was moving. No, being moved, soone had picked up, carrying with the kind of ease that suggested I weighed nothing at all.

I forced my eyes open.

Azryth’s face swam into view above , those ember eyes actually showing sothing other than cold amusent. Anger, maybe. Or irritation.

"Idiot," he said, and his voice sounded strange, tight. "Absolute idiot."

We were back inside. The lobby, people were staring but trying to pretend they weren’t. Azryth ignored all of them, carrying toward the elevator like this was a completely normal Tuesday morning.

"Put down," I managed to croak.

"No."

The elevator doors closed, we were alone.

"Put. . Down."

"When we’re back in the penthouse." He didn’t look at , staring straight ahead at the ascending numbers. "Where you will stay until you learn to stop doing monuntally stupid things."

"I was just..."

"Trying to leave." Now he looked at , and there was actual fire flickering in his eyes. "Without any understanding of what the binding entails, without asking questions, without using even a fraction of the minimal intelligence I credited you with possessing."

"You didn’t exactly offer a tutorial," I shot back, anger overriding the lingering pain. "You just forced this on and expected to... what? Be okay with it?"

"I expected you to not imdiately attempt to kill us both, but apparently that was asking too much."

The elevator reached the top floor, the doors opened, Azryth carried down the hall, through the penthouse door, and unceremoniously deposited on the ridiculously comfortable couch in what I assud was the living room.

I barely had ti to register the space before he rounded on .

"Do you know what happens when bound entities separate beyond the wards?" He didn’t wait for an answer. "The connection strains, the lifeforce drains, continue long enough, and you die. We both die. Painfully."

"You said seventy-two hours," I argued, even though my wrist was still throbbing.

"That’s if you break the bond entirely, attempting to leave the ward boundaries?" He leaned down, getting in my face. "That’s imdiate. You felt it, didn’t you? The drain?"

I had. God, I had.

"The wards around this building are specifically designed to contain infernal energy," Azryth continued. "They also serve as our boundary, as long as we’re both within them, the binding remains stable. Step outside?" He straightened. "Well, you experienced the consequences."

"So I’m trapped here." The realization settled like lead in my stomach. "In this building. Forever."

"Not forever. Just until we find a way to stabilize the binding enough to extend the range." He moved to a bar cart I hadn’t noticed, pouring himself sothing amber from a crystal decanter. "Or until one of us dies, freeing the other, though given the whole mutual death clause, that’s not particularly useful."

"How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long until we can... extend the range? Until I can leave?"

He took a sip of whatever he was drinking. "Weeks, possibly months. The binding needs ti to settle, to integrate fully, rushing the process could destabilize everything."

Weeks. Months.

Trapped in a penthouse with a demon I’d accidentally freed and been forcibly bound to.

I was going to lose my mind.

"There are other limitations you should be aware of," Azryth said, because apparently my day wasn’t terrible enough already. "Physical distance restrictions even within the wards. We can be separated by a few floors, perhaps a few hundred feet, but much more than that and you’ll start to feel the drain again."

"So I can’t even be in a different room from you?"

"Different room is fine, different wing of the building, manageable. But I wouldn’t suggest testing the exact limits." He swirled his drink. "The drain is cumulative, every ti you push against the binding, it weakens both of us."

"This is insane."

"Yes." He settled into a chair across from , crossing one leg over the other with infuriating elegance. "I suggest you accept reality and start learning to work within these constraints rather than against them."

"Work within..." I laughed, a little hysterically. "You literally forced into a magical marriage and now you want to just... accept it?"

"I want you to not kill us both with your stubbornness." He set down his glass. "The binding is permanent, the restrictions are non-negotiable, the sooner you accept this, the sooner we can both get on with our lives."

"My life was fine before you!"

"Your life was deliberately mundane because you were hiding from your own abilities." He said it so casually, like he knew , like he had any right to psychoanalyze my choices. "The binding didn’t ruin your life, Riven, it revealed what you’ve been avoiding for years."

"You don’t know anything about ."

"I know more than you think." He stood, moving toward what looked like a ho office area. "The binding creates a connection, I can feel your emotions when they’re strong enough, your pain, your fear, your anger." A pause. "Your loneliness."

I flinched.

"I’m not interested in your trauma or your sob story," Azryth continued, pulling out a tablet. "But I am interested in keeping us both alive, which ans you need to understand the rules."

He tapped sothing on the screen and a holographic display appeared in the air between us. Symbols and diagrams that made my head hurt.

"Rule one: Stay within the wards unless I’m with you, the binding stabilizes with proximity."

"How close is close enough?"

"Sa building, sa general area. I’ll know if you’re pushing the limits." He swiped, changing the display. "Rule two: Don’t attempt to remove the sigil. It’s not decorative, it’s the physical manifestation of the binding. Damage it, and you damage the connection."

I looked at my wrist, at the glowing mark. "Can other people see this?"

"Only those with the ability to perceive infernal magic. To normal humans, it’s invisible." Another swipe. "Rule three: The binding shares more than just lifeforce, strong emotions bleed through, severe injuries affect both of us. If you get hurt, I feel it. If I get hurt, you feel it."

"That’s... invasive."

"That’s survival." He dismissed the hologram. "The binding is designed to ensure mutual preservation, it makes betrayal difficult and abandonnt impossible."

"Sounds like a nightmare."

"For both of us." He t my eyes. "I didn’t want this any more than you did, but it’s done, we’re bound, and we need to learn to coexist without killing each other."

I slumped back against the couch, exhaustion washing over . Physical, emotional, existential exhaustion.

"I have a job," I said quietly. "Friends, a life outside this building."

"Your job has been notified that you’re taking personal ti due to your recent marriage." His tone was matter-of-fact. "As for friends..." He trailed off aningfully.

Right. Because I didn’t really have those, did I?

"This is wrong," I whispered. "This whole thing is wrong."

"Morality is subjective." He picked up his drink again. "What matters is that we’re stuck with each other, make peace with it, or don’t. But stop trying to escape, it’s tedious, and frankly, I have better things to do than repeatedly save you from your own stupidity."

With that, he walked away, disappearing into another room and leaving alone with the weight of my new reality.

I looked down at my wrist. The sigil pulsed, steady and inevitable as a heartbeat.

Bound. Trapped. Married to a demon who considered an inconvenience at best.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, suddenly feeling very small in the enormous, expensive penthouse.

"I really, really didn’t sign up for this," I muttered.

Sowhere in another room, I swear I heard Azryth laugh.