Obsidian Chains
He stole her life with a contractâbut itâs her soul heâs determined to own.
Where am I? That was the first thought clawing its way through my dazed mind. I blinked slowly, the unfamiliar ceiling above me a blur of soft lights and dark wood. I tried to sit up â and found I wasnât tied⊠but something else was wrapped around me instead. Silk sheets. Not chains. Not rope. But not freedom either. I wasnât kidnapped. I walked in here. I signed the papers. I agreed to everything. Didnât I? I lived alone...
