CHAPTER 66: BLOOD BARGAIN

Under an oath, we made the blood bargain.

Rion took out a small dagger, its blade curved, its hilt adorned with strange etchings that looked older than the Undercity itself. Without hesitation, he dragged the sharp edge across his palm.

Dark blood welled instantly, glistening under the starlight lantern.

I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting, but I forced myself to do the same.

The sting was sharp, hot, and the blood pooled quickly. For a fleeting second, I thought about what this meant... that I was binding myself to him in the most dangerous way possible.

But I had no choice didn’t I?

"You will protect yourself by doing this too. You will not be harmed under his protection. Everything else matters less," Leika said.

We raised our hands and pressed our palms together, blood mingling. Rion’s hand was warm, his grip firm but not too tight, and his held mine.

Together, we muttered the holy words of the blood bargain.

The moment the last word left our tongues, a surge of energy pulsed between us.

My skin prickled, and I gasped as the blood between our palms burned briefly like fire.

When we drew our hands apart, the proof of it lingered. A mark bloomed on my index finger, dark as ink but threaded faintly with red, as though blood had been trapped inside the skin itself. A ring. A shackle.

Rion glanced at it once before lifting his gaze back to me.

"You are bound to me now."

I clenched my jaw, turned sharply, and walked away before he could see how deeply the words unsettled me.

***

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

Maybe it was because I had already rested earlier, but more likely, it was because my thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.

I lay on the bed, staring at the inked ring on my finger as though it might fade if I willed it enough.

It didn’t.

The faint red gleam within it was a reminder that there was no undoing this. I was bound. If I tried to break my end of the bargain, the blood itself would betray me, and death would not hesitate to claim me.

For hours, I turned restlessly, fighting the unease curling in my stomach.

When morning came, a maid came to my room.

"The Alpha summons you to the dining hall."

I cleaned up myself even when the maid told me she was instructed to assist me.

The hall she led me to was vast, carved straight from the Undercity’s heart.

My breath caught for a moment at the sight.

A long stone table stretched across the room, massive and impressive, its surface polished smooth as obsidian. The stone shimmered faintly, veins of silver running through it like lightning frozen in black.

Around it sat high-backed chairs carved from dark wood, polished to a sheen that spoke of fine craftsmanship. Each chair bore intricate patterns etched along its frame.

The air carried the heavy scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spiced wine, though none of it stirred hunger in me.

Four people were already seated at the table.

At its head, Rion sat like a king upon his throne, composed and regal, his crimson eyes watching me the moment I entered.

To his right sat Ares, slouched casually in his chair, his brown hair tousled as though he’d just rolled from his bed. He smirked when he saw me, his eyes glinting with mischief, and I had the distinct feeling that he had some inner joke in his head after what happened.

Maybe they found it funny. The outsider who refused their Alpha came back after being saved by him from sure death. They must found me foolish.

Diaval sat further down, expression as cold as stone. He didn’t even glance my way as I approached. He tore at a piece of bread, chewing with a disinterest as if the feast didn’t entertain him one bit.

And then there was Raye—bright, cheerful, grinning as though the gloom of the Undercity had never touched her.

Her smile was so wide, so absurdly lighthearted, that it felt like a mockery beside Diaval’s silence.

The maid gestured toward the chair nearest to Ares. My steps faltered only briefly before I forced myself forward, the sound of my leather shoes echoing in the quiet hall.

I sat. The stone table was cold beneath my fingers as I rested them on its surface.

Rion’s gaze followed me, making me more uneasy than I already was.

Hunger was catching up to me, I realized. Now that I had decided, begrudgingly, that I would stay in the Undercity for the time being, there was no reason to shy away from the comforts offered here.

The table was filled with a feast. Platters of roasted meat, fresh bread dusted with flour, glistening fruit that had no business being underground. The scent alone was enough to make my wolf stir, restless, urging me to eat.

"Good morning, Vivien!"

Raye’s cheerful voice cut through the silence. She sat across from me, grinning as though she had all the reasons to be the happiest person. Her smile was ridiculous in this shadowed place, a splash of sunlight where there should be none.

"Welcome back," Ares added with a grin of his own, leaning far too close as he tore into a hunk of meat and shoved it into his mouth. Grease clung to his lips, and he chewed noisily, eyes glittering with mischief.

I ignored them both, letting my gaze sweep the length of the table. My hunger sharpened my focus until I spoke without thinking.

"You have no milk?"

The words slipped out, soft but laced with something wistful.

It had been a while since I’d tasted milk at breakfast. Servants in Levian pack could barely afford a proper meal, let alone luxuries like that. If I was lucky, I’d steal a mouthful from leftovers when the masters were done.

"Vincent," Rion’s voice cut in, low and commanding.

I glanced up as a man entered through the wide archway. He was older than most seated at the table, his posture straight as a blade. His clothes were crisp and refined, the kind of attire I would expect from a master of a prominent household rather than a servant.

For a moment, I thought him a guest come to dine. But when he stopped beside Rion and offered a bow, I knew he must be the head servant.

"Get us some warm milk," Rion ordered.

Vincent inclined his head once and turned to leave.

Rion’s gaze shifted, sea-green eyes locking on me. "Anything you might want to add? As promised, I’ll give you a life of comfort while you are under my roof. So if you need anything, you can just tell Vincent here, and you shall have it."

"Really..." I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicion prickling sharp beneath my skin. "Anything?"

The corners of his mouth curved into that infuriating smirk, his long fingers tapping idly against the glass of wine in front of him.

Wine. At breakfast. Diabolical. But then, what about Rion Morrigan had ever been normal?

"Don’t tell me you’re thinking of asking me to give you all my treasures," he said smoothly, his tone playful. "I promised you a life of comfort as a host, but I hope you won’t be too greedy."