---
He didn't speak.
She paused, taking a sip of wine, "Inside the city no one will dare to harm you. But outside… It's a different story. You can't raise your beast without finding resources. Think about it."
She leaned forward now, the illusion of politeness thinning. "We're offering you legitimacy, Zephyr. Training. Protection. Rare beast contracts. Elite mission access. Enough cores reach higher rank and land to build a small city (for growing beast food), if you stay loyal. If not…"
She tapped the contract. "That's your choice. But if you leave this hall with the token unreturned, we will expect an answer soon."
Zephyr's lips thinned. Fenna slammed her palm on the table. "He's not signing this."
Zephyr looked at her and saw fire in her eyes. She was seething. "Fenna—"
"No. They want to bind you, Zeph. You'll spend fifty years leashed to orders, missions, and farming. No freedom. No family. Just gilded chains."
