The chains of the slave pact were iron and magic. But the chains of a shared, broken loneliness were forged in something far stranger.
“That,” she said quietly, “is a different kind of pact entirely. And a far more dangerous one to make.” Demon Maiden and Slave Summoning
He commanded her to clean his apartment. She did so by summoning a tiny, localized tornado of dust and broken glass. He asked her to cook a meal. She presented him with a bowl of ashes that whispered his darkest secrets. He ordered her to be silent. She smiled, a thin, sharp thing, and remained mute for three days, communicating only by writing venomous poetry on his walls in charcoal. The chains of the slave pact were iron and magic