Vincent/Vaelthor~

Out loud, I broke the silence, my voice steady despite the whirlwind inside. "Alright, Nancy. We ept your offer."

Nancy''s face lit up with a triumphant grin, her sharp features softening into something almost maternal—thoughced with that dangerous charm. "Smart choice, you two. The right one, indeed. Fortune favors the bold, especially in realms like this."

With a flick of her wrist, the air rippled—and suddenly, two parchments appeared in her hands. Old, brittle things, yellowed with age, their edges curled and frayed as though they''d survived centuries buried in dust and darkness. Strange runes crawled across the surface, glowing faintly like veins of fire trapped under skin, pulsing with a rhythm that didn''t belong to this world.

The air itself seemed to shift, growing heavy, thick enough that every breath scraped my lungs. A faint, acrid scent rolled off the pages—brimstone mixed with old ink, like these contracts had been dragged straight out of some forgotten pit and forced into the living world.

Nancy''s lips curved as she extended them toward us, one in each hand. The firelight caught on something else as her dress shifted, and from a hidden pocket she drew two knives. Small, but wicked in their simplicity—sharp enough to make the hair on my arms rise. Their silvered des gleamed in the flicker of the hearth, promising pain, binding, permanence.

The moment felt ritualistic, ceremonial even, like we were standing on the edge of a covenant far older than our own rage.

"Sign on the dotted line, dears," she said, her tone light butmanding. "A small cut on your thumbs, press the blood here. Seals the deal forever—blood magic doesn''t lie."

Winter took the knife hesitantly, her hand trembling as she stared at the de. "Vincent... are you sure? This feels... permanent. What if—"

I ced a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, my voice a fierce whisper meant only for her. "I''m skeptical too, Winter. Every instinct screams trap. But our missiones first. Mother''s death, Father''s imprisonment—they demand this. No matter the consequences. We''ve got nothing to lose if we stick to our path."

She bit her lip, nodding slowly, her enigmatic eyes shimmering with unshed tears. I went first, gripping the knife firmly. The de bit into my thumb with a sharp sting, warm blood welling up like a dark promise. I pressed it to the contract, the parchment absorbing it greedily, the runes ring crimson before fading to ck.

Winter followed, her cut quick but hesitant, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the blood met the page. The contracts hummed with power, a low vibration that thrummed through my bones, sealing our fates.

Nancy pped her hands once, and the parchments vanished in a puff of shadow-smoke, leaving only the faint tang of magic in the air. "Done and dusted! Now, let''s get to the fun part—changing those scents. What''ll it be? Werewolf for blending with the packs? Vampire for nocturnal prowess? Human for boring invisibility? Fae for a sprinkle of mischief? Or witch, like yours truly?"

I exchanged a quick nce with Winter, our decision unspoken but clear. "Werewolf," I said firmly. "It''ll get us closest to the Lycans without raising rms."

"Same for me," Winter added, her voice steadier now, though a flicker of doubt lingered in her eyes.

Nancy nodded approvingly, her grin widening. "Excellent. Close your eyes, both of you. This might tingle a bit."

We obeyed, the world plunging into darkness as her voice rose in incantations—ancient words that twisted through the air like serpents,ced with power that made the room hum. "By shadow''s veil and witch''s fire, strip the brimstone, quench the pyre. Cloak in fur and moonlit howl, wolf''s essence, fierce and foul..."

A sensation hit me without warning, a storm of a thousand needles piercing every inch of my skin, burrowing deeper until it felt like they were threading through my veins. A guttural groan tore from my throat as the pain carved itself into me—sharp, merciless, relentless. It wasn''t just my body; it was as if my very essence was being torn apart, shredded into ribbons, and then forced back together in some new, foreign pattern.

Beside me, Winter let out a broken whimper, her voice small but raw. Her trembling hand groped for mine in the dark, and when our fingers locked, she clung with desperate strength, her nails digging into my skin. That fragile grip was the only anchor against the tidal wave of agony threatening to drown us both.

The pain swelled, building in unbearable waves. My muscles convulsed, every tendon pulled taut like a bowstring about to snap. Sweat poured down my face, dripping through the cracks of my lids into my eyes, stinging, blurring everything. Each nerve in my body screamed as though it had been set alight, every heartbeat hammering like a drum of fire inside my chest.

Then, abruptly, it stopped. Nancy''s voice cut through the haze. "And... done. Open those peepers."

I blinked, the room swimming back into focus. I lifted my arm, sniffing tentatively at my skin. The acrid tang of brimstone was gone, reced by something musky, wild—like damp fur after a rainstorm, mixed with pine and earth. It was revolting, an assault on my demonic senses.

"Ugh," I muttered, wrinkling my nose. "I smell like a wet dog."

Winter sniffed herself, her face scrunching in distaste. "Me too. It''s... awful. Like we''ve rolled in a forest after a hunt."

I forced a reassuring smile, though the scent churned my stomach. "It''s temporary, Winter. For the greater good. We''ll blend in, get what we came for, and be done with it."

Turning to Nancy, I arched an eyebrow, suspicion lingering like a shadow. "This is temporary, right? We can change back?"

She threw her head back andughed, that rich, rolling sound filling the room again, easing the tension with its unexpected warmth. "Of course, darling! If you ever want to reim your infernal aroma, juste find me. I''ll undo it in a snap. No extra charge—consider it goodwill."

Relief washed over me, though tempered by the thrill of what came next. Our disguises were set; the path to vengeance clearer than ever.

Nancy''s expression turned serious, her eyes gleaming with intrigue as she gestured for us to sit by the fire. "Now, settle in, you two. It''s time I told you the story of the royal family you''re so eager to ''do business'' with. Zane and Natalie—the Lycan king and queen. Their tale is one of blood, betrayal, and unbreakable bonds. And as for slipping through those thick pce walls... well, I''ve got secrets that even the shadows envy."

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