Chapter 7
Chapter 7 Destiny Bound in Blood
Faye’s POV
1
Time stopped. My lungs forgot how to work. Every muscle in my body locked in place while my heartbeat crashed against my eardrums like thunder. My hands remained motionless at my sides as I searched his face for any hint of what came next.
No anger flickered in his dark eyes. His voice held no harshness. There was no cruelty threading through his words. Just a simple command that cut through the air
like a blade.
He lifted the wine glass to his mouth and drank slowly, deliberately.
Never breaking eye contact as the atmosphere grew heavy around us.
I could sense the vast gap between our positions in this moment. His confidence radiated from every relaxed line of his body while I stood there like a frightened deer, torn between submission and flight. But escape had never been a real option.
Not since the moment I walked into this room.
My fingers shook as I reached for the first fastening on my dress. The tremor was slight, but enough to expose my fear.
I started working the buttons free one by one.
The fabric caught on the delicate closure, forcing me to pause and grip it more firmly. Blood roared through my veins so loudly I worried he might hear it. I kept my gaze fixed downward, unable to meet his eyes while I stripped away my final layer of protection.
Vulnerability washed over me before the last piece of clothing hit the ground.
When everything finally pooled at my feet, I stood completely exposed.
Naked. Shivering.
Each breath scraped against my ribs like broken glass. My arms wanted to shield my body from his stare, but I forced them to stay down. I had already revealed everything, both my power and my helplessness in this twisted arrangement.
The point of no return had passed.
His attention remained fixed on me. Not with hunger or even interest. More like I was an object to be examined and catalogued. For several heartbeats, I wondered which was more devastating, being treated like a possession or being ignored entirely.
Then his voice shattered the silence.
“Come closer p>
The command pulled me forward before my brain could protest. The cold floor bit into my bare feet with each step. I approached until only inches separated us. Read full story at.net
Still, his hands stayed away from me.
Instead, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a folded document. Heavy paper, ivory colored. Previously sealed, now creased from transport.
He set it beside his wine glass and nodded toward it.
“Are you literate p>
I managed a nod.
“Then examine this p>
My fingers grazed the stem of his glass as I picked up the document and unfolded it carefully.
The words swam before my eyes at first. I blinked hard, forcing myself to focus on the elegant script until the meaning became clear.
This was not a marriage license or property deed. This was a binding agreement.
My hands shook as I reread the opening lines.
A formal contract between Lord Hardy Brookhaven and Faye Eileen Stormhaven. Rules of conduct, loyalty requirements, secrecy agreements. The document’s tone shifted dramatically in the second section. Where the first part established boundaries, the next part declared ownership.
I would bear his children. Only his. No other woman would be permitted to carry on the Brookhaven bloodline. No mistresses, no political marriages, no whispered schemes about superior genetics. I alone would have that privilege and burden.
He would take no other wife. I was his singular choice. His only option.
The contract named me lady of his holdings.
Every servant, guard, and acre of land connected to his title would acknowledge my authority when he was absent. I would govern in his place during his travels. I would wield power over his household. Me, a girl without a wolf who had spent years being told to remain silent unless addressed.
The terms read like a gift. Authority, status, safety, all offered to me like a jeweled crown. But beneath those generous promises, I felt invisible shackles tightening.
My healing gift would no longer be mine to control.
The moment I signed, that ability which set me apart from other wolfless individuals would become his property. I would use it whenever and however he commanded.
Any person he indicated, any wound he deemed worth mending, I would comply without question or
hesitation.
If he ordered me to heal his enemies, I would obey. If he commanded me to let someone suffer, I would
watch them die.
My power belonged to him now. I was merely the instrument through which he would use it.
The contract offered a throne, but one precariously balanced over an abyss. Should I ever betray his trust, disobey his orders, or dare to act independently, exile would not be my punishment.
Death would be my reward.
And nobody would intervene. Not my pack, not my family, not even the Crown itself.
My breath caught in my throat. I read that clause again, hoping the words might soften somehow.
They remained merciless.
I raised my eyes from the parchment, pulse hammering against my throat. Hardy sat exactly as before, expression unchanged and unreadable.
“You will have authority,” he said calmly, fingers drumming once against the chair arm. “You will have safety, influence, respect. Anyone who harms you will lose more than their hand p>
I remained silent. The contract spoke volumes on its
own.
“But should you betray me…” His stare captured mine, ice cold and absolutely certain. “Exile will seem
merciful by comparison p>
He rose from his chair.
The energy in the room shifted completely.
“Sign that document with your blood, and you become mine,” he stated quietly, without drama or malice, simply fact. “Your name, your flesh, your devotion, your very existence p>
His hand moved upward, two fingers sliding under my chin to force eye contact.
“However,” he whispered, tone dropping to something far more menacing, “I am not entirely heartless. So I offer you this choice.” He moved closer, voice becoming silk over steel. “Refuse my terms. Destroy the contract, return home, and maintain your independence. Keep your identity. Your freedom p>
A soft laugh escaped him. “Provided, naturally, that you survive your father’s rage and whatever creative
punishment your beloved pack has prepared for their expendable sacrifice p>
His thumb traced my jawline. “Remain here, and exist as hunted prey among wolves who crave your destruction. Or accompany me,” he paused, gaze dropping to my lips, “and serve a monster who will at least be honest about his nature p>
I stared down at the contract, hands quaking.
For someone who had always been treated as worthless, this felt dangerously close to having everything.
That terrified me most of all.
Ultimately, choice was merely an illusion.
I bit down hard on my thumb. Skin split beneath my teeth and blood pooled immediately, copper taste flooding my mouth.
My hand shook as I reached toward the parchment.
With him watching intently, I pressed my bleeding thumb against the signature line.
Scarlet spread across the pale paper like spilled wine.
I had just bound my destiny in blood.
Seeing my signature, satisfaction curved his mouth upward. He leaned closer until his breath warmed my skin. “Now, shall we begin p>
Morh Lucia
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.