Chapter 3

I shut down the mental link and collapsed into a chair.

Now I understood. I knew why she was so bold this time.

Delia had been reborn, too.

In our last life, she at least pretended. She and Damon were never so obvious. Now, she didn't even care about appearances.

I closed my eyes, forcing the memories of my past life to surface.

After our bond, my blood prophecy paintings helped the Blackwood clan avoid disaster after disaster.

Their power grew immensely. The clan elders called me the "Lucky Star of the Covenant."

But those same elders helped Damon hide the truth—that he was in love with Delia.

Only the legendary Monarch, Caspian, had sent an envoy to warn Damon.

Not long after, I found the hidden memory crystal.

"Isolde."

Mother's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Monarch Caspian has awakened from his slumber," she said, entering the room. My mother’s expression was a storm of warring emotions. "He was silent for only a moment about this blood bond… then he agreed."

She left without another word.

But it felt too easy. Too strange.

I remembered Caspian waking at this same time in my past life, but we never had much contact.

I chose him because he had spoken up for me once.

If I had to choose an ally for this political marriage, I'd rather have someone who showed me a sliver of kindness than Damon, who would always hate me.

I'd even planned my next move if he refused.

But now…

He agreed. I had to prepare. I would give him the best gift I could.

I went to my studio.

I would repurpose a blood-painting I had long planned. A wedding gift for Caspian.

It was a prophecy painting, one that foretold the way to avert the "Eclipse Cataclysm."

I had originally meant to give it to Damon.

Now, it had a better home.

I pricked my finger with a silver needle, letting my blood drip onto the specially prepared canvas.

Guided by magic, the blood formed complex runes and images.

It took three full days. The painting was almost complete.

I went out to buy the last ingredient I needed, a pigment called "Moon-silver Grass."

Without the ancient tome, I had to rely on this older method.

But the moment I returned, the acrid stench of corrosion assaulted my senses.

I rushed into my studio.

The blood-painting had been utterly destroyed by a powerful corrosive potion. All that remained on the canvas were black, scorched marks.

"No!"

I activated the surveillance magic.

A cloaked figure appeared in the crystal ball.

But the "Heart of Blood" ruby flashing at their neck gave them away.

Delia.

White-hot rage blinded me.

I teleported to Damon’s chambers.

I threw open the heavy ebony doors and found them tangled together on his throne.

Damon was on top of Delia, their clothes in disarray.

Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her soft moans filling the air.

"Delia!" I roared. "You destroyed my painting!"

Damon whipped his head around, his eyes flashing with fury. "Isolde! How dare you barge in without knocking!"

He shoved me aside, pulling Delia protectively into his arms.

"Sis… Sister…" Delia feigned panic. "I don't know what you're talking about… If I've upset you, I can apologize…"

"Don't!" Damon held her tight. "You've done nothing wrong!"

He glared at me. "It was just a painting! What's the big deal?"

"It was a blood bond gift for my new mate!"

Damon sneered. "Your mate is me, isn't it? I accept your sentiment."

My blood ran cold. I couldn't stand his blatant favoritism any longer.

My eyes landed on an exquisite scrying orb nearby.

Delia’s blood-painting skill was weak. Before she could master it, she relied on the orb for minor prophecies.

Now, I grabbed a vial of holy water and, without hesitation, threw it at the orb.

CRACK!

The crystal orb exploded, sending shards flying.

"No!" Delia screamed, lunging for it. "My scrying orb!"

She collapsed, sobbing and trembling as if she'd lost her most precious treasure.

I threw his own words back in his face, a cold smile playing on my lips. "It's just a scrying orb. What's the big deal?"

I turned to leave.

Damon reached for me, but Delia, pretending to be burned by the holy water, pulled him back.

"Damon… it hurts…" she leaned against him weakly. "The holy water… it burned me… I'm sorry, it's all my fault. You should go after my sister…"

Damon hesitated for only a second. His outstretched hand dropped.

"You're not at fault. Isolde is the one being unreasonable."