3

I have avoided my sister since I realised that there was nothing I could do to help her.

And that is why I freeze like a deer caught in headlights when I bump into her as I make my way back into the house after my ‘business’ in the forest. 

“Ingrid!”

My sister raises a brow,looking at me like she knows exactly what I've been doing.

It's been two days since the Arkael's came here,I'm not looking forward to their return. 

“Don't Ingrid me. You've been ignoring me.”

I make an innocent face

“I have? Why would I? I've just been busy.”

She scoffs like she knows I'm lying. But the look in her eyes makes me frown.

“What's wrong Ingrid?”

She bites her lips,looking nervous. 

“”The Arkael's are here. An- and they're not asking for me,Anya.”

I start to smile,but I pause when I see the tears in Ingrid’s eyes.

“That's good news,Ingrid. You don't have to marry Marek. Unless…you love him?”

She snorts an abrupt laugh,a tear falling from her eyes.

“I don't love him. They- they want you. They want you to come to the office, Anya. Papa asked me to call you when you return.”

“Me?”

She nods,more tears falling from her eyes. 

“I'm sorry Anya.”

I grab her shoulders,dropping my bag in the process

“Hey,it's not your fault. We don't even know why they want me there yet.”

But from the look in her eyes,I'm not fooling her. We both know why they want me there. And even though I'm relieved my sister doesn't have to do this anymore,I'm dreading my fate.

“I'll be fine.”

I hug her shortly and hurry to look presentable,getting rid of my leather pants and top and replacing them with a gown. 

I hurry to the office and knock,then I step in when I hear “come in”.

My papa flashes me a wobbly smile when I enter and I nod. The lord of Arkael house is sitting opposite papa and Corven Arkael is on the couch, scowl in place on his face. There's no Marek Arkael today.

“Lord Arkael, Corven.” I address them

Renvaren looks amused,probably because of the change of my tone compared to the last time we met. But he nods in acknowledgement. Corven's scowl deepens when I look at him. I roll my eyes and take a seat next to him on the couch.

There's a heavy silence for a few seconds before my dad finally sighs deeply and tells me why I was called into the office. 

“The Arkael's have decided that the marriage between Ingrid and Marek will not happen since Ingrid is obviously unhappy about the match and you were enraged about it.”

I raise a brow,wanting him to continue,because the Arkael's definitely didn't change their minds because of our feelings. There's more

“They have decided that the marriage will happen but with you,Anya and Corven Arkael. “

My eyes widen comically,forgetting to school my features. When I walked in here,I knew that I was going to sign a marriage contract. Between me and Marek. Marek not Corven fucking Arkael. My number one hater. Who's idea was this? I voice my thoughts

“Who's idea was this?”

“Mine. Why do you ask?” Renvaren asks.

I twist my lips.

“Have you seen your son and I in a room together? We could kill each other if we are left alone,and you expect us to get married? You definitely didn't think this through.”

“Anya.” My dad reprimands,but lord Arkael only laughs.

“I like you. And even though you and my son act like enemies, I think you're perfect for each other.”

I huff and now,Corven and i have matching scowls.

“You both have to sign to seal the contract.”

My papa says,gesturing for us to come over to the table and sign. 

I walk over to my papa's desk with Corven in tow,ready to sign the contract,but I pause when I see the vowshroud parchment. The Vowshroud is not ordinary parchment. It is made of the withered and sanctified flesh of celestial monsters—silk thin but not tearable, and never rotting. The parchment is pale ivory in hue, with faint silver veins that shine only under the divine truth or mortal lie.

The boundaries are inscribed in the script of runic oldspeech, a message interpretable by great scribes and scourgeborn enforcers only. The message itself is penned in the ink of blood taken from signers' bodies, and from a pen that is forged of the wing feather of a deposed god.Once signed, the agreement cannot be broken by magic, mortal agency, or divine intervention. Only death—inescapable and true—will render the agreement null.Some claim there is a "False Vowshroud", a duplicate that not only binds your life—it binds your bloodline, cursing descendants to the agreement.

I swallow and look at Corven who also looks slightly uncomfortable. 

A small blue fire appears and hovers over the parchment,waiting.

My papa passes me a knife 

“You have to let your blood pour on the vowshroud to sign.”

I slice my palm and watch my blood drip onto the parchment. The blood swirls and writes my name in cursive by unseen force. Corven does the same.

The vowshroud glows for a few seconds and the blood dries to a red-black colour.

I feel and see a silver of my soul's essence and Corven's represented by a white smoke drift into the parchment,tying our life force directly to the pact. As the blue flame goes out,I feel some part of me dim with it.

I feel lightheaded and sway a little. Corven grabs my upper shoulder and looks at my dad.

"Is that all? She should rest."

Signing that thing definitely took out my energy. Especially since my dragon wore me out completely today.

He purrs within me,hearing my thoughts