Daryl Dixon would be the death of me. That I was certain of. As he hovered over my body, drinking in the look of absolute bliss on my face, his smile nearly made me come undone all over again. We'd been locked in what seemed like an unending round of sex, hot and sweaty, slow and needy, and fast and furious for hours. When he said it was sexy to watch me practice, he'd meant every fucking word.

He was arching into me again, this time agonizingly slow, rocking his hips so we both feel every single inch of one another. While our eyes stayed locked together, memorizing the ways our eyes changed with every new sensation, our hands were touching a teasing more from the other. Tempting him to go faster, harder, while his worked to coax another orgasm to rage through me.

In the end, sated by one another finally, we lay wrapped together simply content in the contact our bodies continued. Feeling his heart beating under my hand, I smiled. "Daryl Dixon, you are amazing." I sighed, letting my eyes finally drift closed.

Before sleep took me, I heard him whisper back to me, "You're my salvation, Jessa."

I heard the knock on the door as I was coming awake in the morning. I was still wrapped up in Daryl, in his embrace with our legs tangled. I pulled away, covering him with the blanket and throwing on my robe. I thought it must be the wake up that I'd asked for, so I opened the door only a sliver, keeping my bed out of view. I bit back another curse when I realized that Negan had once again chosen to grace me with his presence.

"Negan," I greeted, opening the door just wide enough for him to enter. I could see the minion guard he'd posted waiting outside and trying to rubberneck to see inside.

"Jessa, my love." He whispered, as he took in Daryl's sleeping form and his smile grew into a Cheshire cat grin. "I see you finally shot your shot." His eyes met mine and as I rolled them. "Worth it?"

Jesus, he was smug. I was shocked that Daryl hadn't woken when I got up, but we had been extra active and he was still wounded. "Is that all you're visiting for? To see if I gave in to temptation?"

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him. "Gotta admit, I was curious." He shrugged, looking down at me. "Was it worth it?" He repeated, and I started to wonder if this was some sort of test. Had I passed or failed? Did I care?

"It was." I offered, smiling wider than I think I ever had before. "Daryl's-" I cut myself off, seeing the storm clouds start to build on Negan's face. Ah, a test. And going into detail at how truly satisfying Daryl was wouldn't be wise. "He's different." From you, from what we share, he's real.

"I'm sure he is." He was studying me intently. "Tired of him, yet?" This was the test, I realized, how long I'd be diverted by someone else. Someone not him.

I pulled out of his arms and walked toward the sofa. Sitting down against one of the arms, I acted as though I was considering his question. I was considering my answer, how to answer without putting Daryl in danger. Without being the source of punishment. He joined me, leaving no breathing room between us.

"Are you tired of your playthings, yet, Negan?" I shot back to him, trying to buy more time.

His lips pursed, clearly not expecting that type of response. "I have more than one diversion, Jessa, you only have one. I'd imagine you'd get tired of yours before I'd ever fucking get tired of mine." Of course, point out how many women you keep on hand to keep your ass satisfied, you ass.

I tilted my head, taking a turn in studying him. Negan. A man I would have sworn I knew better than any other human left alive. Did I? Did I really know him? He liked to test people's loyalty, I knew that, but when he offered me Daryl had this been the ultimate test? I'd seen him punish the husbands and boyfriends of his wives for daring to take a slice of the pie that once belonged to them. Would Daryl be inflicted with the same fucking horrors because I took Negan at his word? Was this all some sort of fucking test of my bonds to him? Had he set me up for failure, only to be allowed to inflict what he'd wanted to on Daryl from the moment he brought him here? Jesus, was I just a pawn in his chess game, not the Queen, not really?

Negan's fingers slid up my face, tracing the curve of my jaw, the plumpness of my lip. He kept his fingers light, soft against my face, but I knew, as anyone who'd lived in the Sanctuary for any amount of time, that this hand, those fingers, could strike out and destroy quicker than a blink.

"Who do you belong to, Jessa?" His voice was a whisper, a breath, as soft as his touch. "Who owns you?"

And that's when I knew. He gave me the toy, but he'd never give the toy his prize. He'd kill Daryl before he'd let me go. He'd make me watch. And he'd enjoy the entire fucking show.

"You, Negan." I answered, forcing myself to maintain the eye contact that he expected from me, the strength of my convictions. "I'm yours, of course." I swallowed my fear, of him, of what he would do. And I realized that the plans I'd had, to talk him into letting me go. To let me take Daryl and return to his people and community had been a pipe dream. That in the end, Daryl would have to escape, without me. Because if I disappeared with him, or after him, Alexandria would be burnt to the ground. I'd bear witness to it. As my own punishment would be watching the future I'd been tricked to find hope in was destroyed, along with the man I'd dared let take Negan's place in my heart.

He didn't stay long after, Daryl remained asleep, or pretended to anyway for his entire visit. Negan kissed me with the passion that we'd enjoyed before Daryl Dixon was a thought in our collective reality, and then with a look that reminded me of where my loyalties needed to lie, he left. I stood with my forehead against the door, considering just what the holy hell I could do now.

I'd have to take Daryl on the tour we'd planned last night. Not doing it would cause as much suspicion as doing it. I'd make sure, before we left the rooms, that he understood that he was gathering the information that he'd have to use to escape. Alone. Without me. And I'd have to impress on him why I would never be able to join him. Not when he left, nor later. Because I knew, with as much certainty as I have ever felt about anything, that Negan would burn down the entire world to prove that I belonged to him. And he wouldn't show an ounce of restraint, no quarter, and he'd make me watch him do it. In case I ever considered it again.

"Hey," I heard Daryl's voice, right behind me, making me realize that he'd been awake for most of Negan's visit. "Jessa, turn around."

I did, and I saw him take in my face. A face I was sure showed my pain, and also my shock at what I'd learned during Negan's brief visit. I shook my head. "You were right," I answered, leaning against the door. "He won't let me go." Daryl nodded, not looking at all smug that he'd called it. "But where you were wrong, where we both were, is that not only won't he let me go-" I sighed, and hugged myself. "He'd destroy anyone who tried to take me or hide me from him."

Daryl looked a bit confused. He'd listened to Negan and I, but he couldn't SEE what I'd seen. Couldn't decode the conversation like I could. "You don't know that."

"I do." I said, pushing off from the door and taking the spot on the sofa from before. Daryl took the same seat that Negan had been in, but the differences were almost comedic. "You heard him ask who I belonged to, right?" He nodded, confirming that he'd faked sleep. "Those words mean more to him than you understand, Daryl. It isn't just 'who's the baddest' for him, he means that I belong to him. That he owns me." I could see the anger growing on Daryl's face. "You were my test, Daryl Dixon. And I nearly failed." Hearing me say 'nearly' he started to open his mouth to argue. "You've seen Dwight's face?" A curt nod. "When a wife fails, she doesn't get the punishment, Daryl. If you're my test, and I fail, then YOU bear the punishment." I took his hand, feeling the heat of his warm the coldness of mine. "I won't let that happen. And I can't come with you," another attempt to argue cut off by me. "You aren't willing to let your entire community bear that punishment, are you?" He turned slightly green at the thought, seeing I'm sure his family with the scars that Dwight wore. If only, I thought, that was the punishment they'd get.

"You're givin' up?" He asked, his voice raw, hurt. "Just like that? He snaps his fingers and ya give up?"

I closed my eyes against the pain of him thinking this was simple for me. That I wouldn't fight for him, when letting him go was fighting for him. For his survival. I could feel the burn in my eyes warning me that tears were on their way, but I fought against them. Maybe having him hate me, my choices, would make it easier for him to leave.