Chapter 2: The Devil’s Bargain

​The ride to the Blackwood Estate was a blur of freezing fog and a racing heartbeat. Every gallop of my black stallion echoed the ticking of a countdown in my head. Five years. I had exactly five years before the guillotine of my fate fell again, but the first thread of that noose was scheduled to be tied tomorrow night at the Imperial Gala. I had to sever it tonight.

​The estate was carved into the jagged cliffs of the Dragon’s Tooth mountain on the outskirts of the capital. It was an imposing silhouette of dark spires and impenetrable walls against a starless night sky, looking more like a maximum-security fortress than a noble residence. No sane person dared to approach it. It was the undisputed domain of the monster.

​I pulled the reins, bringing my exhausted stallion to a halt before the massive wrought-iron gates. Instantly, shadows detached themselves from the high stone walls. Two knights in pitch-black armor, their faces hidden behind heavy, horned visors, crossed their halberds, blocking my path. The infamous Shadow Guard.

​"Halt. State your business, or be cut down," a voice rasped from behind the metal, devoid of any warmth or hesitation.

​I threw back the heavy hood of my cloak, letting the pale moonlight illuminate my face and the striking crimson eyes that were the absolute signature of the Vanguard bloodline. "I am Aurelia Vanguard, sole daughter of Duke Vanguard. I am here to see the Commander."

​The guards didn't flinch. Their weapons remained crossed. "The Master of the House receives no guests. Turn back, Lady Vanguard, before you lose your life to the cold or our blades."

​I didn't have time for this protocol. Kaelen's carriage was likely already being prepared in the inner courtyard for his departure to the Northern border. "Tell him," I said, my voice steady, projecting a commanding confidence I didn't entirely feel, "that I know exactly what happens when the clock strikes three in the morning. Tell him I know about the black veins, and I know how to stop them from reaching his heart."

​The guard to my left stiffened. It was a microscopic reaction, but to my observant eyes, it was louder than a scream. The 'Mad Blood' curse acted up precisely at the witching hour, spreading black, venomous lines across Kaelen's skin, accompanied by agonizing pain and violent impulses. It was the Blackwood's most heavily guarded, treasonous secret.

​Without another word, the guard tapped a glowing purple rune on his wrist gauntlet. A long, agonizing minute passed. Then, the heavy iron gates groaned open with a screech of rusted metal.

​"The Master is in the open-air training pavilion. Go alone. If you try anything foolish, there will not be enough of you left for your father to bury."

​I dismounted, my leather boots crunching against the frost-covered gravel as I walked willingly into the lion's den. The air inside the estate walls was entirely different from the capital. It was heavy, suffocating, and crackling with raw, unstable magic. It felt like walking through a thunderstorm that was desperately waiting to break.

​I followed the torch-lit path to a massive courtyard. The metallic smell of ozone and fresh blood hit my senses long before I saw him.

​Duke Kaelen Blackwood.

​He stood in the center of the ruined stone pavilion, surrounded by the shattered remains of wooden training dummies and the groaning, defeated bodies of his own elite soldiers. He was stripped to the waist, his broad chest heaving, his pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat and a thin layer of someone else's blood.

​He was, terrifyingly, a lethal masterpiece of a man. Towering and broad-shouldered, his muscular torso was marred by a constellation of faded, brutal battle scars. His hair was as dark as a raven's wing, damp with sweat and falling over eyes that were a piercing, unnatural shade of violet. But what made my breath catch were the faint, jagged black lines tracing up his left arm—the physical manifestation of the cursed blood boiling beneath his skin.

​He tossed his heavy, blood-stained broadsword aside like it weighed nothing. The metal clattered violently against the cobblestone, breaking the heavy silence.

​"A Vanguard," Kaelen’s voice was a low, resonant baritone that sent a primal shiver straight down my spine. It wasn't the voice of a nobleman; it was a predator's purr. "Wandering into my territory in the dead of night. Are you suicidal, little bird, or just incredibly stupid?"

​He didn't even bother looking at me, grabbing a dark cloth to wipe the blood from his bruised knuckles.

​"Neither, Your Grace," I replied, stepping out of the shadows and into the dim, flickering light of the magical torches. "I am here to propose a trade."

​Kaelen paused. He finally turned his gaze to me. His violet eyes locked onto my crimson ones, and for a terrifying second, I felt exactly like a prey animal caught in the sights of a starving, cornered wolf. The sheer pressure of his magical aura was immense, pressing down on my lungs until it was hard to draw breath.

​"A trade," he mocked, taking a slow, measured step toward me. His movements were fluid, deadly, and completely silent. "The beloved jewel of the Vanguard family, the innocent future Crown Princess, wants to trade with the Mad Duke. Tell me, what could a pampered, fragile little girl possibly offer a man who can take whatever he wants?"

​I didn't back down. I forced my chin up, refusing to break eye contact. "I can offer you your life, Duke Blackwood. I have the cure to the Mad Blood curse."

​The air in the pavilion snapped.

​Before I could even blink, Kaelen moved. It was a blur of terrifying, inhuman speed. A massive, scorching hand clamped around my throat, slamming me hard against the cold stone pillar behind me. All the breath left my lungs in a violent rush, my feet lifting inches off the ground.

​His face was inches from mine, his expression a mask of pure, lethal fury. The black veins on his arm pulsed visibly, glowing with a faint, corrupted red light. The sheer heat radiating from his body was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. In my past life, I would have cried. I would have begged for mercy. But the woman who feared death died on that snowy mountain. The woman breathing now only feared failing to get her revenge.

​"Who told you about that?" he whispered, his grip tightening just enough to serve as a deadly warning, but not enough to crush my windpipe. "If the Emperor sent you to spy on my weakness, I will send you back to the palace in pieces."

​"N-no one," I gasped, my hands coming up to grip his thick, corded wrist. His skin was burning hot against my cold fingers. "The... the Vanguard ancient archives. The first Duke Blackwood... and the Blood Oath. I know the exact botanical formula to synthesize the antidote."

​His violet eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, searching my face for any microscopic sign of deception. "And what does the little bird want in return for this mythical cure?"

​"Marriage," I choked out boldly.

​Kaelen froze. His eyes widened slightly, the ruthless mask slipping for a fraction of a second. "What did you say?"

​"Marry me," I said, my voice gaining strength as the desperation and hatred of my past life fueled my courage. "Make me the Duchess of the North. Protect me from the Royal Family. Give me the absolute authority to destroy those who try to control me. In exchange, I will eradicate your curse and secure your legacy forever."

​For a long, agonizing moment, the only sound in the pavilion was the harsh, ragged sound of my breathing and the crackle of the torches.

​Then, Kaelen did something I didn't expect. He laughed. It vibrated through my chest, a dark, dangerous sound that held a promise of absolute destruction. He released my throat, but didn't step back, his tall frame caging me against the pillar. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. The smell of his sweat and the sharp tang of dark magic enveloped me completely.

​"You want to marry a monster to escape a prince?" Kaelen murmured, his rough thumb trailing dangerously along my jawline. The casual touch sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. "You are playing a dangerous game, Aurelia. If I accept this contract, I won't just be your political shield. You will belong to me. Body, soul, and blood. There is no escaping the North once you belong to the pack."

​With a flick of his wrist, he produced a small, wickedly sharp hunting knife, pressing the flat of the blade against my palm.

​"Sign the verbal contract in blood, little bird. Or run back to your golden cage before I decide to devour you."

​I looked down at the silver blade. My hands were shaking, not from fear, but from raw anticipation. In my past life, I bled for a man who threw me away to the wolves. In this life, I would gladly bleed to forge my own crown of thorns.

​Without a single second of hesitation, I closed my bare hand tightly around the sharp edge of the blade, pulling it back. A thin line of crimson welled up, dripping onto the cold stone floor.

​The moment the metallic scent of my blood hit the air, Kaelen's violet eyes dilated massively, the black pupil completely swallowing the iris. The black veins on his arm flared violently. He didn't look at my bleeding hand like a cursed, rational man making a business deal.

​He looked at it like a starving, obsessed beast who had finally found his destined meal.