Damian
I cut my palm. Pain flared, sharp and real.
Blood fell into the bowl. Caldor nodded. "Good."
He placed his hand over mine. Our blood mixed.
The air around us shifted, something ancient.
The bowl began to glow faintly. Symbols formed in the blood.
I felt it wrap around me. Like chains.
Invisible… but real. The contract was sealed.
Caldor stepped back. "It is done."
I flexed my hand slowly. The wound had already closed.
But the weight… the weight stayed. It sat deep in my chest, like something had wrapped itself around my soul and refused to let go.
Lucan looked at me like I had just signed my own death.
Maybe I had. Caldor turned away. "Prepare yourselves."
"For what?" I asked.
He paused, then looked over his shoulder, his expression unread
