The pen hovered in my hand like it had its own heartbeat.
Damon Dark stood before me, his blue eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of our apartment. Xue sat motionless behind me, her breath shallow, as if she were afraid to even move.
"Until sunrise," he repeated, voice smooth but laced with something darker beneath. "That's more than generous, don't you think?"
I didn't answer. My mind was racing.
What kind of man walks into someone's life like this—like death itself had opened the door for him?
I glanced at Xue. Her lips were pale, her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the couch cushion. She looked… haunted.
"What did you make her promise?" I asked, voice low.
Damon tilted his head slightly, amused. "She offered herself in exchange for her life. But contracts require balance. A soul for a soul."
"And now you want mine."
He smiled. "You catch on quickly."
I took a step back. "No deal is that simple."
His smile faded just a little.
"You're right," he said. "Nothing comes without cost. But sometimes, the price isn't what you expect."
The words unsettled me more than they should have.
There was something about him—something familiar, though I couldn't place it. Like a half-remembered dream buried deep under years of dust.
Then it hit me.
I was ten years old again.
Lost in the woods behind our old house. No food. No warmth.
And then he appeared.
A boy with sharp eyes and a coat too fine for the forest. He didn't speak. Just watched me until dawn.
I never saw him again.
Until now.
"You..." I whispered, realization dawning. "You were the boy in the woods."
Damon's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable.
"I was many things," he said softly. "But yes. I remember you."
My pulse quickened. "Why are you here? Why now?"
He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the faint shimmer in his irises—like stars buried deep beneath ice.
"Because fate has a way of circling back," he said. "And because you've always belonged to me."
I swallowed hard. His words sent a strange heat through me—half fear, half something else I wasn't ready to name.
"What does that even mean?"
He didn't answer. Only smiled.
I turned back to Xue. Her eyes met mine, pleading. Not for her life—but for mine.
I clenched my jaw. How could I let her go again?
How could I not?
The pen felt heavier in my hand now. As if it carried centuries of regret.
I stared at the paper on the coffee table. It wasn't ink—it was black fire, shifting like liquid shadow across the parchment.
There were no words written on it.
Just space for a name.
"Sign," Damon said gently. "Or say goodbye."
Before I could respond, he suddenly caught my wrist.
"Not yet," he murmured.
I froze.
His touch was cold—but not unpleasant. There was something electric about it, like standing too close to a storm.
"You should know," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "once you sign, I won't be able to protect you from everything."
I swallowed hard. "From what?"
His gaze darkened. "From them. From yourself. From me."
The lights flickered.
A gust of wind howled through the apartment, though the windows were closed.
Xue gasped.
And from the shadows beyond the hallway, something moved.
Something watching.
Damon turned sharply, his calm façade cracking for the first time.
"They found you already," he muttered.
Then he looked at me.
"Decide now, Li Yiren. Sign the contract—or die with her."