Kaito felt the blood pounding in his temples. Lysandra's command was clear, and tension filled the small cell space. It wasn't an act of lust, but a total invasion of his privacy and autonomy, disguised as necessity. But Kaito understood quickly: this was the only path to survival. *Ren* wouldn't find him if he was dead.
"Do you want me to undress?" Kaito asked, his voice rough.
"I want to see what I'm protecting," Lysandra replied, without a hint of shame or visible emotion. "You're a defective container with unknown potential. The trauma of *reincarnation* and Darius's torture will leave magical scars. I need to catalog them."
Lysandra turned away, offering minimal courtesy, and stood with her back to the iron door.
Kaito gritted his teeth. The pain in his shoulder convinced him more than the threat. If he didn't heal, he'd die of infection. With trembling hands, he unfastened and removed the dirty, tattered slave clothes.
The cell's cold air bit into his skin. Nakedness made him feel vulnerable in a way torture hadn't.
He turned slowly, holding his wounded shoulder.
"I'm ready."
Lysandra turned back. Her amber gaze swept over Kaito's slender, bruised body with unsettling objectivity. There was no judgment, only pure evaluation.
"Sit and use the ointment," she ordered, pointing at the silver box with her staff.
As Kaito smeared the healing substance on the wound, feeling immediate relief, Lysandra began her magical examination. She raised her hand and the dark staff floated. She didn't cast a Light spell, but surrounded herself with *shadowy* magic, an elegant, controlled blackness that spread.
A cold, dense current touched Kaito's skin, exploring every inch of his body. It wasn't painful, but it was deeply invasive. The sensation was of being read, scanned, and, more disturbingly, *possessed* by a superior will.
"Interesting," Lysandra murmured, walking around him. "The body is compatible with dark channeling, but your soul is... noisy. It's screaming for something. Anger, yes. But also attachment."
She stopped at the scar left by the inhibitor on his neck.
"Here's the problem. The Paladins tried. But your residual energy isn't dark; it's *chaotic*. You're an anchor point for the Dispersion, the event that brought you here. Darius's Light didn't burn you because your soul is lined with something that resists."
Lysandra halted her examination along his spine, the point where Kaito felt most of his *reincarnation* power resided. Her expression became one of subtle awe, a crack in her icy facade.
"There's a seal. It's not of this world. A bond. It's a blood tie connecting you to the other part of the Conjunction, to *Ren*."
"It's why you didn't arrive together and why he can't find you."
She brought her face close to Kaito's, her lips mere centimeters from his ear, whispering:
"If your brother is as powerful as you suggest, and he's as close as this bond implies... then he's a time bomb. And you, Kaito, are the detonator."
She pulled back, the intensity breaking.
"Sleep. The ointment will make you drowsy. Tomorrow, real training begins. I won't wait for Darius to return and break you. I'll teach you to use that chaotic rage. I'll teach you to be the predator instead of the prey."
Lysandra took her cloak and sat on a stone bench across the cell, a silent, dangerous guardian.
Kaito pulled a thin blanket over himself and lay down, feeling his body heavy with magical healing.
He'd just shared his deepest secret and the intimacy of his vulnerability with a woman who was equally his captor and his only hope.