Chapter 4 The Blood Moon Contract

The chapel's air felt thicker now, almost damp, as if the walls themselves had absorbed centuries of breath, prayers, and secrets. Evelyn stood frozen near the altar while Lucian moved to a table in the corner.

From beneath a velvet cloth, he drew a book-its cover made of something too pale to be leather, almost like... skin. The edges were darkened, as if they'd been scorched. A faint, unsettling heat radiated from it.

"This is the Draegor Covenant," he said softly, setting the book on the altar. "It records every bride bound to this house. Every vow spoken, every soul sealed."

He turned a page, and Evelyn's stomach twisted. The ink wasn't ink at all-it was deep, dark red. Blood. The pages were filled with names, each written in flawless script. Beside each was a date... and another date, always much sooner, scratched out roughly-as though marking an ending.

Lucian glanced at her. "Do not look at me like that. These women were honored. Chosen." He reached into his coat and drew a quill tipped with silver. Its point caught the blood-red moonlight spilling through the stained glass.

Evelyn stepped back instinctively. Her bare feet made no sound against the cold marble floor, but Lucian's eyes tracked her like a predator's.

He smiled faintly behind the mask. "Do not worry, little bride. I will guide your hand when the time comes. We will write your name together."

She shook her head violently, her chest tightening. She wanted to scream No, but her voice remained locked away, useless.

Lucian closed the book with a deliberate thud. "You should understand," he continued, his tone becoming silk and steel at once, "this is not merely a marriage. It is a sealing. You will belong to me, and I will belong to you. The mansion will protect you... as long as you remain here. Leave, and the protection breaks. And then-" He let the sentence trail off like a blade hanging in the air.

The candlelight flickered. Something moved in the shadows near the far wall-tall, thin shapes with hollow eyes. Evelyn's breath caught. They weren't people. They weren't even fully solid. The shadows bent toward Lucian, as though listening to him.

He didn't look at them. "The blood moon rises only once every hundred years. Tonight it is at its zenith. Tonight the house will feed."

Evelyn's hands trembled. She took another step back-and bumped into something.

A hand. Cold. Fragile.

She spun around. Behind her stood a woman in a tattered wedding gown, her skin pale and stretched thin over her bones. The woman's lips moved soundlessly, her eyes wide with terror. Evelyn recognized her instantly-she was the voice from the locked door.

Lucian's tone sharpened. "She should not be here."

The woman's head jerked toward him, and for a split second, her mouth opened wide in a silent scream before the shadows surged forward, wrapping around her like living smoke. They dragged her back toward the darkness, her form dissolving into nothing.

Evelyn's knees weakened. Lucian stepped toward her, the silver quill still in his hand.

"In two hours," he said, "you will take her place in the covenant. And when you do, there will be no more running."