I signed the infernal contract to secure my claim on Bianca, and her stubbornness uncovers the solitude my blood curse has always threatened. In the registry chamber the open scroll demands verification, and my low command is that she stay still until I say otherwise. She holds her hand above the quill a beat longer than she needs to, every time.

Her fear of being treated as property matches the terror I hide, but the ribbon lies ready to bind her wrists as the terms turn physical, each clause verification promising intense claiming under the demon law. The rival could claim her if I let a single clause go unmet, exposing the vulnerability I cannot afford.

I hold the order and wait for her to obey. The next clause is waiting, and so is the rival.