“What were you doing in here all day?”
“Drawing. Exploring,” I answered, tucking my notebook into my apron pocket, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed byKaldur. “I’d never been in here before. And now I’m lamenting that I’ve wasted two years never stepping foot inside.”
Kaldur glanced around the courtyard, and I caught his stray expression. One that struck me as sad, though in the next moment, it had vanished.
“And did you do what I asked? Have you read over the contract?” he asked next.
Oh. Back to the pressing business at hand.
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“And?”
“We’re in agreement,” I replied, after a deep breath. “I’m ready to sign.”
Kaldur’s gaze slid to the side, into the leaves of the hedge, unseeing. He took a deep breath, his lips pressing together. I noticed his left wing raised slightly. For a moment, he looked…resigned? A warning went through me again.Tread carefully,Luc would tell me.
I frowned, my lips parting to ask a question I didn’t even know if I could voice.
But in the next moment, Kaldur pulled a silver dagger from a hidden sheath in his vest. Seeing it jolted my heart. The handle was alabaster white, and a swirling silver pattern was etched into it.
“Where’s the contract?” he asked.
I stared at the dagger only a moment more before I pulled the parchment from my other apron pocket. It was slightly flattened and crushed in, but I handed it to him, the ribbon imbedded in the wax seal caressing my palm.
Kaldur walked over to the pedestal nestled inside the tangle of starwood blooms, and I followed. He carefully maneuvered over the vines, which had overtaken the stone pathway I hadn’t realized was there.
Not a pedestal, I saw. A moon dial, powered by a Halo orb slotted into the base.
But the surface was flat, and Kaldur spread out the contract, the parchment heavy enough that it lay flat, like cloth.
He didn’t look at me as he cut his palm, a sharp whistle of a dagger. I watched a bead of black blood rise. Then he used my pencil of all things to dip into the wound like it was an ink pot.
In a flash, he scribbled out his signature, practiced and lacking any decorative flourish. It was neat but bold. I stared.
A deep sharp exhale left his lips, and then he turned to me, rolling the tip of the pencil between the pad of his thumb and forefinger to wipe off the remaining blood. He handed it to me.
His eyes were too silver in moonlight. So much light. I frowned but then realized why. The starwood patch had grown bright, and I realized, belatedly, that the bloomshadbegun to sparkle and shimmer. My eyes caught on one, nearest me. The stamensandthe little dots of white on the petal were sparkling slowly, a undulating wave of light that grew dim and then brightened.
Beautiful,I thought as I took the familiar pencil from his grip.
“Are you ready?” he asked, the dagger loose in his grip of his uncut hand. “I’ll heal the wound after. Any discomfort will be brief.”
Heal the wound?
He thought I was afraid of a little cut?
As if I was out of my own body, I watched myself hold out my nondominant hand. His touch was warm and gentle, but the hiss of his blade felt like a searing pinch.
Kaldur’s lips parted, his fangs immediately elongating when the line reddened. I got the sense he was holding his breath. His chest didn’t rise and fall. I stepped forward and copied his movement, dipping my pencil into my blood—the most macabre ink I’d ever used—and signed my name.
Erina Denoren.
I’d never had much need to practice my signature. It was a messy scribble against his. Though I took pride in my illustrationsand sketches, my handwriting was abysmal. If anyone ever came across my notebook and flipped it open in hopes to read some of my chapters, they’d likely be unable to.
I stared at my last name. A made-up one. A fake one. I had no true last name, only the one I shared with Luc and the character we’d created. A childish fantasy that followed and lingered with me throughout my life.
It’s done,I thought, staring down at the signature. Just as he said, he healed the wound on my hand, smearing a thin line of his blood across my palm. The stinging stopped.
