Fergus Lancaster signs the agreement with a hand that never leaves my shoulder. The papers turn my instinctive obedience into a documented claim, one a rival could contest if I fail. His voice alone makes my body respond before I can stop it.

I hide the terror of being discarded behind how fast I obey. The ownership rite waits in the equipment room, where another trainer might try to take what Fergus has marked as his. Every correction on the mat reminds me what I stand to lose.

His grip tightens in my hair as the quiet order comes. I will open because I have never learned how to keep what I need without giving everything first.