Sign Here Novels & Stories

"Fair enough, Little Wolf. My word is iron. I don't break contracts, and I don't let anyone touch what belongs to my camp." Agnes didn't hesitate any longer. She pressed the sharp silver nib to the parchment, signing her name in a quick, elegant cursive that defied the shaking of her fingers. Without pausing to regret it, she slammed her right thumb firmly against the glowing blue Stormfang seal at the bottom of the page.

Her fingers hovered slightly before she finally picked up the pen. With a firm hand, she signed her name on all three spots. Deal sealed. The game had begun.

she said beaming her eyes to me. Umm... I never learnt to sign properly. My stamp would just work for it. I looked puzzled in front of her. " So, you don't know. Let me teach you to write your own signature as you are free all day," she said. I could hear Aries giggle. " I had told you, your highness, signature always work better in modern places. You can use it in papers in company not only in the bank stuffs and insurance," he said.

The year I was at my most starry-eyed, I gave up my chance to study overseas. Over my parents' furious objections I married my boyfriend and took in the abandoned baby he'd picked up off the side of the road. From that day on I poured everything I had into that household and into raising that child. Thirty years of it. And just when our son was grown and settled and I thought I might finally get to breathe, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The treatment cost a fortune. I was about to reassure my husband and my son that I had the money. Instead, they got angry. "What do you mean, your money? That's this family's money. This disease is a bottomless pit. You could throw everything

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough. "Now, for the seal," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. From my pocket, I produced a black, leather cord. Dangling from it was my heavy signet ring, the solid silver crest of my lineage : a snarling wolf's head. "Every treaty needs a signature. Consider this mine, stamped upon you." I moved to put it around her neck. She flinched back instinctively. "Ah, ah," I chided softly, my voice a deadly calm. "The deal isn't complete until you wear my mark. Or would you like to see what 'disastrous' looks like?"

I adjusted my hand again, slower this time. “Follow instructions.” His gaze shifted to me. “You’re not qualified.” I almost smiled. I reached for my phone again, typing carefully. “You agreed to the deal.” He read it. Didn’t respond. But he didn’t stop either. When he finished, I reached up again, making a smaller adjustment near his shoulder. This time, I was more careful, more deliberate, even with the limitations of my hands. Then I stepped back. Looked at him properly. And signed, slower this time, making sure the gesture was clear.

At the woman standing behind him. Vivian Wu. Cream-colored sundress, one hand draped delicately over her stomach, her face arranged into that perfect little expression she'd been rehearsing since college — the wide eyes, the trembling lip, the I'm-so-sorry-I-didn't-mean-to look that made men want to protect her and women want to slap her. She caught me staring and dropped her gaze. Her fingers tightened on her belly. I looked back down at the papers. White paper. Black ink. My name already printed in the signature line.

"Sign these quickly, and then you can lie down." I looked at what he was holding, and the words on the page moved, sliding sideways, and refusing to resolve into anything legible. "What are they?" I heard myself ask. "Just sign, Arel. It won't take a second." "I want to—" I pressed my palm flat on the mattress to stop the tilting. "I want to lie down, Jace. What are these—" "Sign first." His voice was still gentle. "Three signatures. That's all. Then you can sleep."

The entire arena is silent. Kael’s mouth is actually open. Remy (lounging beside me in Alpha mode, arms crossed) starts laughing so hard he has to lean on me to stay upright. I take the clipboard. Read it. Then I flip it over and write in perfect Deep Script across the entire back: “Bill denied. Counter-offer: come and take it.” I sign it with a lightning bolt that burns the paper to ash and sends the ashes back through the rift in the shape of a middle finger.

No turning back. “You’re hesitating,” he observed, his voice calm, almost mocking. “Have you finally realized what you’re signing up for?” I inhaled sharply. “I can read flawlessly. I know what I’m doing.” A flicker of satisfaction crossed his expression. “Then sign.” My fingers trembled as I reached for the pen. One signature, and my fate was sealed. I pressed the tip to the paper, forcing my name onto the contract. The ink smudged slightly from the sweat on my palms, but it was done.