Chapter 3

The chapel dissolved into chaos.

Bullets ripped through the air, shattering stained glass into a rain of jeweled shards. Crimson, sapphire, emerald—holy light fractured into daggers that fell upon the pews. Guests screamed, diving beneath benches as thunder outside seemed to echo the carnage within.

Sajah moved like fire given form. One arm swept Kira against his chest, shielding her as he dropped them both to the floor. With the other, he drew the pistol hidden beneath his suit, his movements precise, lethal. Around them, his men formed a living barricade, trading steel for steel, vow for vow.

Kira’s heart thundered against her ribs as she clutched the silver pendant at her throat. This was no wedding hymn. This was war.

“Stay with me,” Sajah growled, his breath hot against her ear, his body covering hers as bullets carved into the altar above them. “Do not let go, Kira. No matter what happens.”

Tears stung her eyes, but her voice did not waver. “I won’t. Not even death can breach us.”

For a moment, amidst the chaos, his lips brushed hers—fierce, desperate, the kiss of a man who would burn the world just to taste her once more. Then he rose into the storm.

⸻

The intruders surged forward, led by a tall man whose face remained hidden beneath the stormlight. His voice cut through the violence, cold and mocking.

“You signed a contract with love, Sajah. Foolish. Dangerous. Today, I tear it apart.”

Sajah answered not with words but with fire. His gun roared, each shot precise, merciless. Two men fell, but the enemy pressed harder, many against few.

Kira crouched behind the shattered altar, her body trembling, her gaze sweeping the carnage in desperate search of safety. And then she saw her.

Sophia.

She stood untouched at the far edge of the chapel, her expression carved from stone. Bullets whistled past her, yet she remained calm, composed. For a single heartbeat, her eyes met Kira’s—dark, knowing, unreadable.

And Kira understood.

Someone had opened the doors. Someone had let the wolves into their sanctuary.

And Sophia… had known.

⸻

A cry split the air.

Sajah staggered, a red bloom spreading across his shoulder, staining his white shirt like ink spilled across parchment. He gritted his teeth, refusing to fall, his gun rising again, his shots deadly.

Kira’s scream broke free as she crawled to him, ignoring the glass slicing her knees. “No!” She pressed trembling hands to his wound, blood soaking her palms. “Stay with me—don’t you dare sign out of this vow!”

His gaze met hers, fierce even in pain. “This… is only ink,” he rasped. “Not the end.”

But his body trembled, his strength faltering.

⸻

The shadowed leader stepped closer, his gun aimed directly at Sajah’s heart. “See? Even the strongest contracts bleed. Hand her over, Sajah. The girl is your weakness—the clause that will destroy you.”

Sajah spat blood, his jaw iron, his hand tightening on the gun. “She… is not my weakness,” he growled. “She is my strength.”

The man laughed, cruel and sharp. “Then you will die for her.”

His finger tightened on the trigger.

And Kira rose.

Her gown was torn, blood streaking her white silk, glass glittering in her skin like cursed jewels. Yet her eyes burned, unflinching, fire blazing through her fear.

“No,” she said, her voice low but steady. “You will not touch him. You will not breach this vow.”

The intruder faltered, caught off guard by her defiance. In that fragile pause, Sajah’s men struck, surging forward like a tide. Bullets sang, blades clashed, bodies fell. The chapel became a crucible of fire and smoke, vows written now in blood.

⸻

When the dust cleared, the enemy lay scattered. The leader was gone, vanished into the storm, leaving behind only his laughter ringing in the broken air.

Guests wept. Guards staggered. The altar stood cracked but unbowed.

Kira dropped to her knees beside Sajah. His skin was pale, his breath ragged, his blood hot against her hands. She cradled his face, tears streaking her cheeks.

His eyes fluttered open, dark and burning even through the haze of pain. “You were… magnificent,” he whispered, his lips curving into a faint, proud smile. “You stood… like my equal.”

She bent, pressing her lips to his forehead, tasting sweat and smoke and iron. “I am not your weakness, Sajah. I am your clause of survival. And I will sign this vow again and again, even in fire, even in blood.”

His eyes softened, his hand weakly clutching hers. “Then nothing will break us,” he breathed. “Not betrayal. Not death.”

But as the words left him, his body went slack in her arms.

Kira clung to him, her sobs swallowed by thunder, her bloodstained gown a shroud around them both.

And as the storm raged outside, she did not know if their vow had just been forged—

or if it had already reached its cruelest breach.