The Billionaire's Debt-Bride
wasn't a book about humanity; it was a Universal Anthology.
As the sun set over the now-solid spires of Aethel-9, I stood at the center of the city, my hand pressed to the central spire. The Shield Ink on my wrists was no longer a mark of a "Debt-Bride." It was a Library Card.
"Rule 47," I said, the words echoing through the emerald-gold air.
"What is the rule of the First Book, Aara?" Thomas asked from the Bowery, his voice filled with the wisdom of a new era.
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