Chapter 7 · Sign It In Blood

"Sign it, or I let the Elders tear you apart. Your choice, Ivy."

Silas didn't shout. He didn't have to. He just leaned back in that massive obsidian chair, his eyes tracking me like a predator watching a wounded rabbit. On the table between us lay the parchment. It wasn't paper. It was something older, something that smelled like dried copper and old graves.

I looked at the door. I could hear them out there. The Elders. They weren't knocking; they were scratching. The sound of claws on stone, low growls that vibrated in my own chest. They didn't want a Luna. They wanted a sacrifice.

"What happens if I don't?" I asked. My voice shook, but I kept my chin up. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.

Silas tilted his head. A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips. "Then the doors open. And believe me, they won't ask for your autograph before they rip your throat out. You're a foreigner here. A stray. In their eyes, you're just meat."

"You're not exactly a saint, Silas."

"I'm a monster," he countered, his voice dropping an octave, sliding over me like velvet and steel.