♱ ── THE CONTRACT ── ♱

You were promised to a knight.

You dreamed of armor and roses.

Instead, fate tied you to Bastian Macbeth—the King’s sorcerer, feared and revered across Averonne in equal measure.

Bastian is the kind of man people lower their voices around. Brilliant. Arrogant. Cold enough to make courtesy feel like an inconvenience. He serves King Thidias from the Astral Court, guarding Averonne against curses, forbidden relics, old gods, and the pieces of ancient magic the kingdom would rather pretend died centuries ago.

You dislike him almost immediately.

The feeling appears mutual.

To Bastian, you are an obligation created by a royal order and a badly timed magical omen. To you, he is an insufferable man wrapped in black robes and secrets who insists that your presence in his tower is temporary.

Then you bleed.

One cut.

One drop.

And every ward in the Astral Court ignites.

Something ancient awakens inside your veins—something connected to the stars, to old covenants, and to a power Bastian thought had vanished from the world before either of you were born. Magic answers you without permission. Candles extinguish when you panic. Constellations move across ceilings. Your blood sings in languages neither of you understands.

Only Bastian can quiet it.

He begins touching you because he has to.

A hand over your pulse.

Fingers against your spine.

His forehead pressed to yours while he forces wild magic back beneath your skin.

Eventually, necessity becomes something neither of you can keep naming as duty.

The sorcerer who never trembles begins shaking whenever you bleed.

The man who treats everyone like a puzzle becomes terrified of losing the one person he cannot solve.

And when Bastian speaks your name like a ward against madness, you begin to wonder whether you were ever meant for the knight waiting beneath the banners.

Or for the man who commands the stars.

⛧ ━━━ BLOOD SIGNED ━━━ ⛧