A blood pact

Chapter 1 – The Pact Sealed in Blood

Lucien

The scent of mortal fear is intoxicating. It lingers in the damp night air, clinging to the trembling woman before me. She reeks of desperation, of the kind of terror that makes mortals do foolish things. And yet, despite her fear, there's something else in her gaze-something that makes my pulse quicken with intrigue.

She dares to look at me.

Most humans wouldn't. They would fall to their knees, beg for mercy, or run until their lungs gave out. But not her.

Evelyne.

The name curls around my tongue, foreign yet strangely familiar. She is nothing more than a fragile thing, yet there is defiance in her stance, in the way she grips the blade in her hand as if she has a chance against me.

"Do it," she breathes, her voice shaking but her resolve unbroken. "Make the pact."

I chuckle, low and dark, stepping closer. "You understand what you're asking for, little one?" My voice is smooth, laced with the shadows of my kind. "There is no turning back once the pact is made."

Her jaw tightens. "I don't have a choice."

No, she doesn't. She's standing at the edge of oblivion, and I am the only salvation she can grasp. But salvation has a price. And I intend to make sure she pays it in full.

I lift my hand, a single clawed finger tracing along her jaw. She flinches but doesn't pull away. Interesting. "You intrigue me, Evelyne," I murmur. "Most mortals would rather die than bind themselves to a demon."

Her eyes darken. "Maybe I already have."

A dangerous answer. And yet, it excites me.

The blade she holds is useless, but I take it from her, twisting it in my hand. A ceremonial dagger, silver and iron laced with ancient symbols. A weapon meant for demons, yet she offers it to me willingly.

"Very well." I press the blade to my palm and drag it across my skin. Dark blood wells from the wound, rich and potent. Evelyne watches, her lips parting slightly.

"Your turn." I offer her the blade, watching as she hesitates. One moment of doubt. One last chance to walk away.

She doesn't take it.

With a sharp inhale, she presses the blade to her palm, slicing the soft flesh. A crimson bead rises, and I reach for her, capturing her wrist in my grip. Her pulse is frantic beneath my fingers.

"The pact is sealed," I whisper, pressing our wounds together. The moment our blood mingles, a surge of power erupts between us.

Evelyne gasps, her body trembling as the magic takes hold. Her pupils dilate, her breath hitching, and I know she feels it-the tether between us, unbreakable, unrelenting.

She is mine now.

And there is no escape.

Evelyne sways, unsteady on her feet. The magic works its way through her veins, claiming her inch by inch. I can feel her heartbeat, erratic and fragile, a stark contrast to my own steady pulse.

Her lips part as if to speak, but instead, she collapses.

I catch her before she hits the ground. Her body is warm, far too warm, the heat of the pact burning through her mortal shell. She whimpers, her breath uneven as she clutches at my arm, her nails digging into my skin.

"Shh," I murmur, cradling her against my chest. "The pain will pass."

I remember the first time I was bound by magic. It is always agony before it becomes power.

She trembles in my arms, her body wracked with involuntary shudders. I could let her fall, leave her to suffer on the cold ground. But I don't.

Instead, I lift her effortlessly and begin to walk.

The wind howls through the desolate ruins surrounding us, the remnants of a long-forgotten battlefield. It is fitting that we stand here, in a place where blood once stained the earth, to forge a bond of our own.

I glance down at Evelyne, her lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. Even in her weakened state, she is beautiful-fragile, yes, but there is a fire in her that I have never seen in a mortal before.

A dangerous thing.

But I have always been drawn to danger.

I carry her through the ruins, deeper into the heart of the forgotten city where shadows linger and whispers of the past dance on the wind. This is my domain, my sanctuary. A place where mortals dare not tread.

She stirs as I step into the dimly lit chamber of my keep. The air is thick with the scent of old magic, the walls lined with ancient tomes and flickering candlelight. I set her down on the silk-covered bed, watching as she slowly opens her eyes.

Confusion flickers across her face. Then, panic.

She scrambles to sit up, only to clutch her head with a sharp gasp. "What... what did you do to me?"

I smirk, leaning against the stone wall. "I granted your request, little one. The pact is sealed."

Her gaze snaps to me, wide and furious. "I feel... different."

"Of course you do. You are no longer just a mortal." I step closer, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "You are bound to me now, body and soul."

Her breath hitches, and I catch the way her pulse quickens. It is intoxicating, the way her body reacts to mine, the magic of the pact weaving between us like invisible threads.

She shivers but does not pull away.

Good.

"Sleep, Evelyne," I whisper, my voice laced with the power of command. "Your body needs time to adjust."

She resists, her brows furrowing, but her eyelids grow heavy. She falls into an exhausted slumber, her breathing evening out.

I watch her for a long moment, the flickering candlelight casting shadows over her delicate features. She looks peaceful now, but I know it will not last.

The blood pact has only begun.

And I intend to ensure she never forgets who she belongs to.