đź“–
They walked in silence.
Lucien led her through a corridor unlike the others—this one narrow, ancient, with walls lined by statues. Each one held a different expression: rage, agony, despair. Some looked like they were screaming. Others looked like they were begging.
Elara kept her eyes forward.
"What are these?" she asked.
"Former contractors," Lucien replied without emotion. "Some broke the rules. Some tried to escape their bargains. Some simply refused to pay when the time came."
She swallowed hard.
"And what happened to them?"
He stopped walking and looked at her.
"I gave them what they asked for," he said. "But they didn't like the price."
They reached a circular chamber at the end of the hall. Black fire burned in braziers on every side. In the center was a raised platform with three symbols carved into its surface—one of flame, one of a chain, and one of an eye.
Lucien stepped onto the platform and turned to face her.
"It's time you learned the rules," he said.
She crossed her arms. "You mean there are rules now? You didn't mention that when I signed."
"There are always rules," he said, voice low and firm. "The ink binds you, but the rules hold your soul intact. Break them, and the contract devours you—slowly."
She stepped forward, but not onto the platform.
"Then tell me," she said. "What are they?"
He raised his hand.
"Rule One."
The flame symbol ignited.
"Never deny a task given to you by me. The contract grants you power, but it comes with purpose. You cannot pick and choose vengeance. When I send you, you go."
"And if I don't?" she asked.
"The fire takes a piece of your soul each time you hesitate."
"Rule Two."
The chain symbol lit up, wrapping around itself with glowing red energy.
"Never attempt to rewrite or manipulate the contract. No hidden clauses. No false bargains. The ink knows truth. If you try to cheat it, it will bind you in ways you can't undo."
"And Rule Three?" she asked, voice quieter now.
Lucien stared at her.
Then the eye symbol burst into flame.
"Never fall in love with me."
The room dropped into silence.
"What?" she breathed.
Lucien's voice was softer now. Almost regretful.
"Those who fall in love lose their claim to power. The bond becomes corrupted. You stop thinking clearly, stop commanding your own fate. And when that happens, the ink turns on you. Love is the ultimate betrayal of the bargain."
Elara took a step back.
"So you've had people fall for you before."
"Too many," he said.
"And what happened to them?"
He didn't answer.
The flames slowly died down, one by one.
But she noticed his hand—his left one—had closed into a fist.
"Why would you make that a rule?" she whispered.
"Because love makes people forget who they are," he replied. "And I didn't choose you to lose yourself. I chose you to become something more."
She stared at him for a long time, heart racing.
A part of her wanted to scream at him. Another part—darker, more dangerous—wanted to ask what happened to the last girl who broke that rule.
But before she could speak, the door behind them creaked open.
A robed figure stepped in, face covered, holding a small obsidian box.
Lucien took it, then turned back to Elara.
"Your first punishment," he said.
"I didn't do anything wrong," she said, confused.
"You thought about running this morning," he replied calmly. "You looked out the window and wished to escape."
Her throat tightened.
"I didn't do it."
"But the ink heard you."
He opened the box.
Inside was a ring—black as night, with a crimson gem identical to the pendant she wore.
"Put it on."
Elara hesitated. "What does it do?"
Lucien stared at her, gaze sharp. "It binds your will to the contract more tightly. And if you try to run again, it will burn."
She looked at the ring.
Then at him.
And slowly, she slid it onto her finger.
Instantly, heat shot through her hand, up her arm, into her chest.
Her mark pulsed—angry, hot, alive.
She bit her lip, refusing to scream.
Lucien watched, emotion unreadable.
After a moment, the pain faded—but the ring stayed warm. Like a warning.
"Lesson over," he said quietly.
As he turned to leave, Elara finally found her voice.
"Lucien."
He stopped.
"Have you ever broken your own rules?" she asked.
He didn't turn back.
But his voice echoed in the chamber like a curse:
"Once. And I've been paying for it ever since."