Текст книги "Desire in His Blood"

Автор книги: Zoey Draven

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Chapter 3

Gemma

When I stepped into my father’s office, I saw that my sisters were already there. Father sat at his desk. One of Hydroni-make that he’d had imported, all gleaming red wood inlaid with swirling metal strips. The thick, sturdy legs showcased intricate carvings depicting the last battle of the Pe’ji War.

The battle that had changed everything for us. The battle that had given us this house, this land, this territory.

“Gemma, there you are,” my father burst out when he saw me enter the office, a wide grin on his handsome features. Behind him, I saw the backside of our property through the tall windows. Once there had been a shimmering blue lake—Mother’s favorite place.

Though darkness was falling, I could still make out the muddy brown color of its murky water and smell the putrid film that had developed over the top of it. I swallowed, my gut twisting. I still couldn’t stomach the sight of it. Even after five years.

Resolutely, I took my eyes away.

“You heard about the blue salt cavern?” I guessed, eyeing the glass of whiskey on his desk. Another expensive import. Judging by the pinkness of his cheeks on his tanned complexion, I guessed he was on his third or fourth glass of the night.

“You found more blue salt?” Piper asked, whirling on me with large, watchful eyes. “That’s great news! Just in time for Lord and Lady Rossi’s visit. We can keep the plates after all!”

“No, we cannot keep the plates,” I said, a sharp edge lining my tone. “I’m sending them back tomorrow.”

“Father!” Piper barked, whirling on him. “I would just die of mortification if Lord and Lady Rossi ate off our chipped set! Fran broke another cup just yesterday. And there’s a big crack in nearly all of the salad plates. You cannot expect them to—”

“Piper, enough,” I exclaimed, feeling that stabbing headache return. My throat felt like it was tightening again, constricting.

Piper continued, “Lady Rossi’s cousin is a wealthy merchant. The handsome cousin. We need to make a good impression on them so she introduces us. And if she takes one look at our existing plates, she’ll turn her nose up at us. I wouldn’t be able to bear it!”

She was talking about plates and handsome cousins, and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown over the possibility that I would have to sell myself to a Kylorr, that my father had lied about paying our workers, that every day the interest on our debts grew to more insurmountable heights, and that plates wouldn’t matter when there would be nothing left.

I snapped.

“I don’t want to hear about the fucking plates anymore, Piper! We can’t afford them! And everyone knows Lady Rossi’s cousin is already engaged to an heiress on New Inverness. So, what chance do you really have? Why would he choose you over her?”

I hardly ever cursed and I hardly ever yelled. Like, actually yelled. And so the stunned silence that resulted in my small outburst was warranted.

“Gemma,” Mira admonished softly, stepping toward Piper, who crossed her arms and looked away from me. I heard her swallow thickly…followed by a small sniffle.

I blew out a short, sharp breath. Guilt started to settle, heavy in my mind as regret swarmed in my veins. I hadn’t meant to make it sound like Piper was lacking. Just that…well, reality was harsh. Lady Rossi’s cousin was a wealthy man. Who would marry into an equally wealthy family. Not one like ours, riddled with debt, with enough baggage to fill the emptying halls of our run down estate.

“I’m sorry,” I said, clearing my throat in discomfort. “Piper, I didn’t mean that you—”

“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t want you either!” Piper hissed, her green eyes flashing. She was crying now, but I knew that my sister could be cruel when she was hurt. I braced myself for what I knew was coming. “You’re a cold bitch with a stick up your ass. You’re just jealous that I might have a chance with him. Because he would never choose a frigid hag like you.”

All the blood drained from my face. My heart twisted into a sea of knots. Piper and I had never gotten along well, but this was a new low. Even for her.

“Piper!” came my father’s sharp bark. “Get out. Now.”

“But—”

“Out!” Father roared.

I blinked back the tears, breathing through my stinging nose. I felt Mira’s hand on my arm as Piper skulked from the office, slamming the door behind her, rattling a vase on the bookshelf.

“Are you okay?” Mira asked. When I met her eyes, I saw she was biting her lip. “She didn’t mean it, Gem. You know that. She’ll feel terrible once she realizes what she’s said. But you know how she gets.”

No, she meant it. She meant every word, I thought. But I touched Mira’s hand, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, and said, “I know.”

Relief swam through her gaze. She didn’t like it when we fought. It always put her in a tough position, being between us all the time.

“Gemma,” my father said, the clink of ice filling the quiet office when he lifted his glass. There was an apology in his eyes, but I still spied something else. Something…hopeful. “I’ll tell her she can’t keep the plates, all right?”

But it wasn’t even about those damn plates anymore, was it?

“What did you need to see me for?” I asked him, impatient to return to my room. I didn’t think I could do any work tonight after all. I was drained. All I wanted was to sleep, to put this horrendous day behind me.

Father swirled the whiskey in his glass and then drained it down. “Mr. Cross called me.”

I stiffened.

“He said he made you a match,” he said, beaming. His dark, straight brows rose over his warm brown eyes. “A wealthy match. And that you told him you would think about it.”

“What?” Mira breathed, and I sensed her turning to me with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything, Gem?”

So…this was the source of his excitement.

“Did he say anything else to you?” I prompted, a little confused by my father’s measured exuberance. The Kylorr had been allies of the Pe’jians during the war. The Pe’jians that my father had fought against for the United Alliance.

“Something about a matchmaking fee when the marriage happens, but he assured me the suitor would pay it,” Father said, shrugging. He stood, walking over to the bar cart, lifting a crystal decanter from it. “He assured me the suitor would pay for everything.”

The words had been loaded with something unspoken. I shot a look at Mira, but she didn’t appear to notice.

“I haven’t accepted yet,” I reminded him, licking my dry lips. “I know very little about him, and I’d like to have some assurances before I—”

He whirled, a small portion of whiskey sloshing from the decanter, splattering onto the wood floor. Father didn’t appear to notice.

“You will marry him, Gemma. It—it would solve everything. And once your sisters marry into wealthy families, the estate will be secure! Hell, they don’t even have to be wealthy families, if this man is as rich as Mr. Cross says. They could marry whomever they choose. Love matches—isn’t that what you want for them? But you will all be secure. Just as your mother wanted.”

My spine shot straighter. “And what about the caverns? The workers?”

Father waved his hand like my words were nothing but a small nuisance. Like I hadn’t given everything to the business for the last five years, all to keep our heads above water.

“I’ll manage it just fine.”

A tiny bloom of fury lit up in my chest. “You don’t know how to run the business. Not anymore. You didn’t even pay the workers last month when I entrusted you to do it.”

Father scowled. “Was it that damn Killup that said that?” he asked. “Look, I told them that I would invest their wages and get them double back in three months. None of them protested.”

“My gods, there are laws in place for a reason. You can’t do that. Our workers depend on their pay. They have families to care for, and they don’t need to be roped into your ‘investments.’”

“Oh, Father, tell me you didn’t,” Mira said, biting her lip. She was likely thinking of Sorj.

Father’s temper was rising. I could feel it. He didn’t like to be cornered. And, much like Piper, he lashed out when he felt threatened.

He poured a hefty glass of whiskey, and the decanter landed on the bar cart with a sharp clatter. His cheeks were reddening quickly, but I knew it was more from his anger than the liquor.

“If I didn’t have you girls to care for, I could run the caverns easily,” he said, completely ignoring the situation at hand. “And I will. It will give me something to do when I know that all of you are settled and married.”

I bit my tongue so hard that I tasted blood. The metallic taste only made me think of other, more horrible things. Nausea pooled in my belly.

“You will marry this man, Gemma,” my father said, walking back to his desk, his words a sharp bark. “Tell Mr. Cross that you will accept the match. You might not see the blessing in it now, but you will thank me later.”

How had he turned this around? How had he turned my decision around so that I would need to thank him? Especially considering we were in this mess because of him. A mess that my sisters didn’t even know about because he’d begged me, with tears in his eyes, not to tell them.

“The ‘man’ is a Kylorr.”

My father froze, the ice clinking with the sudden stop. Mira’s breath whistled in. The hand she had on my arm squeezed, her fingernails pressing deep.

“But I’m guessing Mr. Cross didn’t tell you that,” I finished. Another possibility nearly stole my breath. “Or maybe you didn’t care to ask.”

His hand shook, but I spied the shame mingled with his disbelief.

“So, what do you think of it now, Father? Would you still have me marry him, knowing what my future would hold?”

Would you have me marry him to settle all your debts? To save this house, where Mother died? To purchase more whiskey so you can drink yourself to an early grave? To feather this coffin of a place with more golden, glittering things that you don’t need?

I couldn’t help the terrible thoughts.

Truthfully, I had already made up my mind on the matter. There was no choice. That had long been taken from me.

But I wanted to hear him say it.

I needed to hear him say it.

“Father, you cannot allow this,” Mira exclaimed quietly, as the silence continued to stretch. “Absolutely not!”

Father’s brown eyes never left mine, however. He and my mother were night and day in appearance. He was a large, barrel-chested man, with thick salt-and-pepper hair, almond-shaped eyes, and round, ruddy cheeks.

My mother had been willowy and slender, with fine blond hair as smooth as silk, wide green eyes, and a honeyed complexion from her afternoon swims. A great beauty from a wealthy family, who had fallen in love with a grinning, confident, brash soldier from the outskirts of New Inverness.

Rye Hara and Sophie Crest. Lord and Lady Hara of the Collis, they had become.

Lord Rye Hara of the Collis looked me straight in the eyes, and he said, “You will marry the Kylorr, Gemma.”

Mira’s hand spasmed on my arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gaping at Father.

“And you will save us all,” he grated softly.

He tilted his whiskey up to his lips and drained it in one gulp. The empty glass clattered onto the surface of his desk when he was finished. Then he turned his back to me, looking out the window toward the lake. I wondered if he still imagined Mother there, when it was sunny and warm. I wondered how he could stand the sight of it, even though she was buried there.

I barely heard Mira’s sharp protests. I barely heard what Father said to her in turn.

I was the eldest daughter. Before today, I had been of no real value to him. I was past marrying age, after all, and everyone knew it was marriages that exchanged wealth between families. Until today, he had planned to rely on Mira’s and Piper’s beauty to save us.

I knew Father loved me. But if he had a choice between settling his debts or marrying me off—the daughter who had no prospects—well…it was always going to be an easy choice.

“I’ll marry him,” I said, my voice finding strength, when I met my Father’s gaze in the reflection of the window.

“Gemma, just…no,” Mira started, and I heard the wavering in her voice, the helplessness in the way she looked back and forth between us. “We can sort this out!”

“But I have some conditions,” I said, ignoring her.

Father turned, his expression grim. He waved a hand in the air to let me know he was listening.

“I will hire on a manager for the caverns. You will not go near them. You will not deal with any of the workers, nor will you touch their wages again. The manager will oversee everything and they will deposit your share of the profits into the main account at the end of every month.”

Father put his hands into the pockets of his trousers, but his expression didn’t change.

“You will let Mira and Piper choose their matches when the time comes,” I continued. “And you will not interfere.”

“Go on,” he said, his tone rough and guttural. “I’m sure you have more.”

“Just one more, though I would not consider it a condition,” I said, my throat tightening. “Once I leave the Collis, I’ll be done with the loans, Father.”

His expression darkened. His gaze flitted to Mira quickly, who asked, frowning, “Loans? What loans?”

“And everything having to do with them,” I added.

Which translated into keeping the collectors at bay. The pleading for extensions; the endless Halo calls; fielding the threats of terrible violence against me, my father, my sisters. Everything I’d shielded my father and my sisters from.

“This will be a clean slate for you. Don’t do anything to ruin that,” I said, my voice breaking at the last words. “Do you accept?”

It took long moments but finally my father inclined his head.

“I accept.”

Mr. Cross’s knowing face lit up the Halo orb. It looked like he was shirtless, likely getting ready for bed. I’d been pacing my room for the last twenty minutes, storing up my courage to make this call.

“I knew I’d be hearing from you soon, Miss Hara.”

“How much is he paying you to make the match?” I asked. It was something I’d wondered since our call earlier.

Mr. Cross’s grin could only be described as hungry.

“The Kylorr? One hundred fifty vron,” he said.

One hundred fifty thousand credits.

That was the price of my father’s original loan, the interest if we’d taken until the end of the year, and more. Much more.

“And he will pay off your father’s loan to me.”

Why? I wanted to shout in disbelief.

Why was marrying the eldest daughter of House Hara so vital to this Kylorr? To spend that obscene amount of credits when we’d never even met?

I suppose I’m about to find out, I thought.

“Do you have something to say to me, Miss Hara?” Mr. Cross asked, his tone taking on a gleeful tinge. “A thank-you perhaps?”

Swallowing, I dug my fingernails hard into my palms.

Then, with the strongest voice I could muster, I said, “Tell the Kylorr I’ll marry him if he pays off all my father’s debts and secures our estate.”

“Do you have a price in mind that I should relay to him?”

A price.

Like I was something to be sold. Cattle in a field. Blue salt in a cavern. Plates from a potter on Dumera.

You’re a cold bitch with a stick up your ass, Piper had said to me.

The debts would only require 200,000 to pay off. If he wanted to make this a transaction, then I would too.

Steeling my spine, I said, “Four hundred vron. Two hundred to pay off the debts up front. But I will require another two hundred to be placed into a secure account under my name—and my name alone.”

Maybe a selfish, scared part of me thought my price would send this Kylorr running.

Mr. Cross laughed. But his grin was wide when he said, “I admire your sense of self-worth, Miss Hara. But his ambassador did assure me that he would pay whatever price you asked. I’ll relay your message and get the contracts drawn up.”

When the Halo call was over, I stood in the middle of my room, a fire roaring in the hearth, frozen in disbelief and grief and anger and shame and terror.

That was when the impact of what I’d just done hit me hard.

I just sold myself to a Kylorr.

Chapter 4

Gemma

“Gemma?” came Fran’s soft voice. “They’re ready.”

Turning from the window, I met Fran’s hazel eyes. Her black curls had been wrangled into a tight braid that fell over her shoulder. She was dressed in a deep emerald-green dress that looked beautiful against her warm brown skin.

My friend gave me a wobbly smile as she took in my white dress and my long, straight hair that I’d left unbound. She said, “You look beautiful, Gem.”

I ignored her words. “Has Father met with the Kylorr yet?”

Meaning my soon-to-be husband and his witness, all the way from Krynn itself.

“No, he’s…he’s waiting for you. You’ll go in together, and I’ll be right behind you.”

I nodded and strode forward, the slippers on my feet slapping against the stone. “Let’s get it over with, then.”

Before I lose my nerve, I added silently. Or my breakfast.

Everything had happened so fast. Only three days ago, I had called Mr. Cross with my answer. The very next morning, I’d had an answer from the Kylorr and a contract to sign.

Now I was standing in the atrium of a Nulaxy courthouse. A neutral governing colony, given my father’s ties to the United Alliance and the Kylorrs’ own loyalties to the Uranian Federation.

Only two days ago, I had packed up my entire life into three trunks. Only two days ago, I’d said goodbye to my home, to my planet, to the Collis. Only two days ago, I’d said goodbye to my mother at her grave by the lake.

Only two days ago, I’d said goodbye to my sisters.

We thought it best if they didn’t attend the wedding and instead stayed behind in the Collis. We thought it safer. It was possible the Kylorr could change his mind. That upon seeing my sisters, he could change his preference to one of them. I didn’t want to give him the opportunity.

When we’d said goodbye, Piper had barely looked at me, which had left a tight knot in my throat. Mira’s tears had soaked my shoulder, and I’d had dug half crescents into my palms to keep myself from soaking hers. We’d never been apart since either of them had been born. Not once. Not ever. Not even for a day. Now I didn’t know when—or if—I’d ever see them again.

Fran, the last remaining housekeeper of House Hara and my dearest friend, had come as a witness to Nulaxy in their stead.

“Gemma,” she said, stepping in front of me, blocking my path when I made a beeline for the door that would lead to another door that would lead to him.

Fran’s gentle, warm touch made me freeze. I hadn’t cried. Not once. But I didn’t need to be strong for Fran. She wouldn’t think any less of me, and so when the tears suddenly blurred my vision, I let them.

“Oh, Gem,” Fran murmured, biting her lip. She reached out and pulled me into a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

More bandages. Temporary ones. I wanted to believe her.

“I-I made arrangements for the new manager to be at the house starting next week. Father will meet with him, but I would appreciate if you could show him the caverns, introduce him to the workers,” I said.

“Gemma,” Fran said, sighing, pulling back. Her hazel eyes darted between my own. She was only a year younger than me, but sometimes she felt more like a mothering figure.

“Promise me,” I pleaded softly.

She nodded hesitantly. “I will. But stop. I know they’re your family and you can’t help worrying. But you’ve done everything you possibly can for them. You’ve given so much. Too much. Let them stand on their own. You need to start looking out for yourself, okay?”

Hadn’t Sorj said something eerily similar?

I swallowed and wiped at my glassy cheeks.

“Don’t pass judgment so quickly either,” Fran said quietly. I flinched. “You don’t know him. Or what he’s like.”

“He used Mr. Cross to broker this marriage,” I pointed out. “And you’ve heard the stories, Fran.”

“That’s all they are. Stories,” she said, taking my upper arms and squeezing.

Blowing out a sharp breath, I gave her my hesitant nod. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” she huffed, cracking a small smile. Then her smile faded. “I’ll miss you, Gem. If I could go with you, I would. You know that.”

“I know.” But it had been in the contract. Only I was allowed to step foot on Krynn. No one else. Not my family. Not my oldest friend. I squeezed her hand. “I’ll—I’ll miss you too, Franny.”

I looked at her, steeling my spine. She gave me a clean cloth to wipe the tears off my cheeks. I took a deep breath, fastening my eyes on the door.

He was near. He was close.

“I’m ready.”

When the doors opened, I saw wings. Great, terrifying, black wings, folded and tucked against their owner’s broad back, hiding their massive span. I couldn’t see his face, but he filled the room like a violent and sudden storm, making panic rise in my throat.

Father’s hand spasmed against my forearm. I stopped at the threshold of the small, darkened courtroom, my legs freezing beneath the skirts of my white dress. A human wedding tradition. I wished I would’ve worn black. He was dressed in black, after all.

This wasn’t a celebration. This was a transaction.

That thought unlocked my legs, and I began to walk, dragging my father forward, whose grip had tightened considerably on my arm.

Is he having second thoughts? I wondered. Bitterly. Sadly. It doesn’t matter now. I am already sold.

I was House Hara’s sacrificial lamb. Offered up to my new husband, with my neck bared and presented, awaiting the slow death of his bite. I’d heard it was a terrible death…to be drained by a Kylorr.

At our approach, he turned.

Whatever remained of the air in my tight lungs whooshed out as our gazes connected.

Red.

He had red eyes. Since his skin was gray, those eyes resembled burning embers nestled among dark smoke. His pupils were vertical slits, flaring briefly as we regarded one another. Then, strangely, those pupils flitted and narrowed on my father.

His bones were sharp—his cheekbones, his nose, the hard square slash of his jawline. His face was grim and surprisingly regal. Haughty and arrogant even, given his pushed back, broad shoulders and the sudden flaring of his massive wings, the sound like a whisper in the silent room. Black horns jutted above his temples, with a ribbon of spikes spiraling tight around each of them.

Our differences—between a human and a Kylorr—were vast, though not as vast as I’d assumed. His face was long and angular, but he had two eyes, a nose, and a wide mouth with thin lips. His hair was black, like mine, shorn to his shoulders. His ears were pointed, the tips peeking through his hair.

Chills ran down my arms, however, when I spied his fangs. Two of them. Long and sharp, poking into his bottom lip, ivory against his dark gray lips. I imagined them slick with blood. I imagined the flash of them in darkness, accompanied by those terrible, terrible red eyes, and I froze all over again.

My father’s grip tightened on my arm.

“Gem,” he said softly. The hesitation clear in his voice. When I looked over at him, there was a bead of sweat dotting his forehead. Indecision played out over his face.

Whatever he was going to say, however, died in his throat and I heard his hard swallow. There was a flash in his eyes. Guilt. Sorrow. But determination as well, and it made my heart sink.

It was my father who pulled me forward this time to approach the three figures: my new husband, his witness whom I barely noticed, standing in a darkened corner, and the Nulaxian male who was overseeing the brief ceremony.

When I stepped up next to the Kylorr, it was jarring how massive he truly was. He towered over me. Though he didn’t carry the large, intimidating bulk of other alien species—like the Nulaxian male before us —he was finely sculpted like a marble statue, taut but lean enough to surprise me.

He’s a berserker, I reminded myself.

An alien-vampire berserker.

The Kylorr’s battle rages were infamous for a reason. Because their strength could be triggered.

By what? I couldn’t help but wonder. Would he grow in size?

As if I couldn’t help myself, I chanced a peek up at the Kylorr. An heir to the Kaalium. Whatever that meant. But it was obvious he was wealthy. That he came from wealth, had been born into it.

His clothes were finely made—the stitching on the leather precise, not a thread out of place. It was a hardened black leather from the looks of it but appeared supple to the touch. There were tailored cutouts for his wings and large straps across his back which made an X shape, hammered steel shapes pressed into the straps, words—Kylorr words?—stamped into the metal. A dagger was at his hip. The handle looked well worn from use. His pants were made of the same material as his tunic, though there was flexible plating that protected the front of his thighs.

And on his hands…gauntlets. Gunmetal gauntlets that covered the tops of his hands, running up to the middle of his forearm. His knuckles made sharp metal points.

Armor, I thought, my mouth going dry.

He’d come to this wedding like he was preparing for battle.

The Nulaxian male made a warbling sound, like a clearing of his throat, as if he sensed the sudden tension in the courtroom, suffocating and heavy.

My father had stopped behind me with Fran. It was only the Kylorr and me standing before the Nulaxian male, facing him.

“Do you come to this joining of your own free will?” the Nulaxian male asked, peering at me with bright blue eyes.

Of course they would need to ask that. It was a common tradition these days with trafficking ports at every major colony.

I nearly laughed. Instead, my fists squeezed at my sides.

“Yes,” I said, the word sounding strong. Strong enough that I saw the Kylorr turn to peer down at me. Even I could see the frown on his face and the narrowing of his eyes. Did he want me to be frightened? Did he want me to turn on my heel and flee at the sight of him?

Perhaps he did. Perhaps he got off on fear and that was why I was here.

Perhaps he’d heard that human women were submissive. That they were malleable to their master’s needs. Was that what this Kylorr wanted? Sex? A human woman chained to the foot of his bed, to frighten and fuck whenever he pleased? Was that what hundreds of thousands of vron were worth to him?

The Nulaxian male, I noticed, didn’t ask my intended husband the same question.

“Then let us begin,” the clerk said, tapping on his Halo tablet, projecting a contract into the air before us. Words in the universal language were enlarged, the paragraph scrolling slowly. “Do you agree to the terms of marriage laid out before you, Gemma of House Hara, daughter of the Collis?”

My heart was throbbing in my throat. The words were jumbled in my mind, though they were clearly projected before me in blue, non-flickering pixels.

Truly, it didn’t matter. The vron to pay the debts were in holding as of this morning, according to Mr. Cross. They would be released to my father’s debtors the moment the marriage contract was filed. My family could be free of them tonight.

That was enough to draw the word out from between my lips.

“Yes.”

“Then you may sign.”

I took the stylus from the Nulaxian male, silver in color and incredibly worn. I wondered how many females had signed similar contracts in this very courtroom. My signature was a messy scribble.

“Ah,” the Nulaxian male said next, flitting a quick look to the silent male next to me. “One more. For the Kaalium’s archives.”

Much to my confusion, he procured a second contract from behind his podium, though this one was on thick linen parchment. Identical to the first from what I could see, written in the universal language.

Just as I perceived the Kylorr moving next to me, I heard a soft metallic hiss. The flash of the dagger that had been sheathed at his hip shone in the light as he handed it to me, those red eyes pinned on mine. His expression was a glare, and the cold gleam in his gaze was enough to make me wordlessly accept the dagger from him, as if he’d cast me a spell on me.

“Sign with your blood,” came the Nulaxian’s warbling voice.

My breath was sharp and I looked up at the Nulaxian. I was all too aware that the Kylorr’s wings flared again at my reaction. Even the smallest of movement from his wings made a tendril of hair blow across my cheek.

Show no fear, I reminded myself, looking down at the dagger. The blade was clean. Well cared for and wickedly sharp. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my fear.

I pressed the sharp edge into the pad of my thumb. A bead of red blood rose. Beside me, the Kylorr stiffened as if he could smell the metallic tang.

Hurriedly, I dipped the tip of the stylus into the small bead and used it to sign my name. The scrawl of it was even messier than the first, and I dropped the dagger onto the podium as if burned, the stylus too.

Then I pressed my thumb into my white dress hard, pinching the fabric between my fingers, hoping to stop the flow.

The Nulaxian male turned to my almost-husband, speaking to him directly for the first time since I entered the courtroom.

“And you? Do you agree to the terms of marriage laid out before you, Azur of House Kaalium, son of Thraan, and the High Lord of Laras?”

Azur.

Somehow knowing his name made this even more real than the stinging of my thumb.

Azur of House Kaalium. Son of Thraan. High Lord of Laras.

Who is he? I couldn’t help but think. Who am I marrying?

Azur said nothing. His answer was the flourish of his signature on the floating contract. I watched the way his gauntlet flexed and moved like a second skin with the movement.

Then he snatched up his dagger.

He dragged the blade across the entirety of his gray palm, and I watched as black blood pooled into the lines of his flesh, like streams of ink.

His blood signature joined mine on the parchment. Black against my red. Only, he signed over mine, our signatures becoming a jumble of grotesque lines. As if he were staking his claim already, an allusion and insinuation of what was to come.

Azur straightened. He turned to aim that cool gaze at me, as if daring me to speak. When I said nothing, he turned his head over his shoulder. This time to look at my father.

With a quick swipe of his long fingers, the Nulaxian made the contract disappear from view. Filed in the universe’s shared database.