"Don't even think about running," a voice rasped, cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins.
Before I could blink, a hand slammed into my shoulder, pinning me against the rough stone wall of the corridor. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and I gasped, my lungs burning. I looked up into eyes that weren't human. They were gold, molten and predatory, belonging to a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a nightmare and decided he liked it there.
"Who the hell are you?" I spat, trying to shove him off. It was like trying to move a mountain made of muscle and spite.
"The man who just bought you," Silas replied. He didn't shout. He didn't have to. The sheer weight of his presence filled the hallway, suffocating me. He leaned in, his chest brushing against mine, and I could smell something like cedar and old blood. "Your father—or should I say, Klaus—traded you for a border treaty. You're not a daughter anymore, Ivy. You're currency."
I stopped struggling. The word 'currency' hit harder than the wall. "My father wouldn't... he wouldn't sell me to a monster like you."
Silas let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through my own ribs. He grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my skin, forcing me to look up. "Monster? Sweetheart, you have no idea how right you are. But let's be clear: I didn't want a pampered little princess. I wanted a pawn. And right now, you're a very expensive one."
He shoved me forward, not letting go of my arm, and dragged me toward a heavy oak table in the center of the dim room. On it lay a single piece of parchment. It looked ancient, the edges charred, the ink shimmering with a strange, metallic violet hue.
"What is this?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.
"Your new life," he said, releasing me with a flick of his wrist. "Or your death warrant. Your choice. Sign the contract, and you live. Refuse, and I send you back to Klaus in a series of very small, very neat boxes."
I looked at the paper, then back at him. "I'm not signing anything. I'll find a way out of this place. I'll—"
In a blur of motion, he was behind me. His hand clamped over my mouth, and he hauled me back against his chest. The heat radiating off him was intense, almost searing. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his voice a dangerous whisper.
"You think there's an 'out'? Look around, Ivy. This is the Black Ridge. The Forbidden City. The only way out is through me, and I don't remember giving you permission to leave."
He spun me around and slammed me onto the table, the parchment pressing against my chest. I tried to kick, to scratch, to do anything, but he pinned my wrists above my head with one hand. The grip was absolute. I could feel my pulse hammering against his palm, a frantic, trapped bird.
"You're hurting me!" I yelled.
"Good," he murmured, his eyes scanning my face with a clinical, detached interest. "Pain is a great motivator. Now, let's talk about the terms. You obey every command. You don't question the Ridge's laws. You belong to the Forbidden King until I decide otherwise. In exchange, I don't kill you today."
"This is insane!" I screamed. "You can't just buy a person!"
"I just did," Silas said. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, jagged obsidian blade. The edge was so sharp it seemed to cut the air itself. "Now, we don't use ink for these kinds of deals. We use blood. Specifically, the blood of the one being bound."
I froze. "No. No way."
"Wrong answer," he whispered. He shifted his weight, pressing me harder into the wood. I could feel the hard line of his thigh against mine, the friction of his leather trousers against my skin. The proximity was dizzying, a mix of pure terror and a sudden, unwanted spark of electricity that shot through my spine.
"Please," I whispered, my bravado cracking. "Just let me go. I'll do anything. I'll give you whatever he took from me."
"You have nothing," Silas said, his voice dropping an octave. "That's why you're useful. You're a blank slate. A little piece of leverage I can use to burn Klaus's world to the ground."
He gripped my hand, pulling it flat against the parchment. I tried to jerk away, but he was too strong. He leaned over me, his face inches from mine. I could see the gold flecks in his eyes swirling like a storm. For a second, he didn't look like a monster. He looked like someone who had been starving for a long time and had finally found something worth eating.
"Stop fighting," he commanded. "The more you struggle, the more it's going to hurt."
"I hate you," I hissed.
"Get in line," he replied.
He didn't wait for another word. With a sudden, precise motion, he sliced the obsidian blade across my palm. I shrieked, the pain sharp and searing, a hot line of fire carving through my flesh. Blood—bright, vivid red—spilled out and hit the parchment.
I expected it to soak into the paper. Instead, the ink reacted. The violet letters began to glow, pulsing like a heartbeat. The blood didn't just sit there; it moved. It crawled across the page, weaving itself into the letters, binding my signature into the very fabric of the contract.
"What's happening?" I gasped, trying to pull my hand back.
But I couldn't. The blood had formed a literal chain, a thin, shimmering thread of crimson that locked my wrist to the table, and then, with a violent jerk, it snapped toward Silas.
He didn't flinch. He watched with a grim expression as the blood-thread leaped from the paper and wrapped itself around his own wrist, sewing the two of us together in a shimmering, visceral bond.
"What did you do?" I screamed, staring at the glowing red line connecting us. "Undo it! Get it off me!"
Silas stood up, pulling me with him. Because of the bond, I was yanked off the table, crashing straight into his chest. He caught me, his arms wrapping around me not in a hug, but like a cage. He looked down at the blood-link, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his lips.
"It's a Symbiotic Blood-Bond, Ivy," he said, his voice humming with a dark satisfaction. "Now, wherever I go, you go. Whatever I feel, you'll taste. And if you try to run..."
He tightened his grip, and the bond on my wrist flared with a sudden, agonizing heat, making me cry out and clutch at his shirt.
"...it'll burn you from the inside out."
Just as the pain peaked, the heavy double doors of the chamber exploded inward. The sound was like a thunderclap, shaking the floor beneath our feet. A troop of armored soldiers stormed in, their blades drawn, led by a man with a cruel, familiar face.
Klaus. My father.
He didn't look at me with love or regret. He looked at me like a piece of luggage he'd forgotten at the airport.
"Change of plans, Silas!" Klaus roared, his sword pointing straight at my throat. "The treaty is void. Give her back, or we burn this city to the ground with you inside it!"
Silas didn't let go of me. In fact, he pulled me closer, his fingers digging into my waist. He looked at the army, then back at me, and I saw something in his eyes that terrified me more than the soldiers.
He wasn't worried. He was amused.
"Sorry, Klaus," Silas called out, his voice echoing through the hall. "But she's already signed the contract. And as you know... the Forbidden King never gives refunds."
Klaus sneered, stepping forward. "I don't care about your contracts. Kill them both!"
As the soldiers lunged, Silas leaned down to my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
"Hold your breath, little bird," he whispered. "This is where it gets messy."