Page 26 of Checks & Bonds

Mr. Collins stepped forward, his presence commanding the room. He cleared his throat, and the murmur of conversation ceased. "The rules are simple but must be followed without exception."

He paused, letting his words sink in. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears.

"The girls will be brought in one by one," Collins continued. "Each member of Ravenwood will have the opportunity to bid. The highest donation wins the Claim."

A murmur rippled through the room, excitement and anticipation thick in the air. I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

"Once a Claim is made," Collins said, "there will be an exchange of blood, vows recited, and a kiss. This ritual solidifies the Bond between Master and Claimed. From that moment on, she submits to her Master, who in turn offers her protection."

He looked around the room, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "Mote it be," he intoned.

"Mote it be," we all echoed.

"Bring in the first girl," Collins commanded.

The door at the far end of the room opened slowly. My breath hitched as a young woman was led inside. She walked with her head held high, eyes forward, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.

The door creaked open, and my breath hitched. But it wasn’t Freya. Relief washed over me, loosening the tight coil in my chest. I could finally breathe.

The girl who stepped inside was petite, with raven-black hair cascading down her back in waves. She wore a simple white dress that hugged her slender frame, its hem brushing just above her knees. Her eyes were a startling shade of green, wide and wary, darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. Her skin was pale, almost translucent under the harsh lights, and she clutched a small pendant at her throat—a tiny anchor on a silver chain.

She walked with hesitant steps, her bare feet making no sound on the polished floor. The silence in the room grew thick as all eyes turned to her. The men shifted in their seats, anticipation buzzing like static electricity.

I could see the slight tremble in her hands as she came to a stop in the center of the room. She stood there, alone and vulnerable, under the scrutinizing gazes of Ravenwood's elite.

Collins stepped forward again, his voice smooth and authoritative. "This is Annalise," he announced. "Starting bid is ten thousand."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, wallets were drawn out, checks were written. My eyes remained fixed on Annalise's face. There was a quiet strength there, beneath the fear—a determination that flickered like a candle in the wind.

Bids began flying around the room—fifteen thousand, twenty thousand, thirty thousand. The numbers climbed higher and higher, and with each new bid, Annalise's shoulders tensed further.

The man who had made the winning bid — Jacob — stepped forward with a triumphant smile plastered on his face. He approached the girl and took her hand with an air of ownership.

Collins handed him a small ceremonial knife. With practiced ease, he made a shallow cut on his palm before doing the same to hers. They pressed their hands together as blood mingled between them.

"Do you vow to serve your Master?" Collins asked her.

"I do," she replied softly.

"And do you vow to protect your partner?" he asked the man.

"I do."

They recited their vows before sealing it with a kiss—a chaste brush of lips that felt more like a transaction than an expression of affection.

"Let this Bond be honored," Collins said solemnly. "Mote it be."

"Mote it be," we all repeated once more.

As they stepped aside to make way for the next girl, I couldn't help but glance back at that door again—hoping and dreading what might come next.

Girl after girl paraded in front of us, each one more nervous than the last. The tension in the room grew with each new arrival, but none of them were Freya. I felt my stomach twist with every disappointed glance at the door. Where was she?

Unless she decided to listen for once and not show up.

Jensen leaned against a column, arms crossed, watching the proceedings with an air of detachment. He hadn’t claimed anyone yet, but neither had I. His eyes flicked to me occasionally, that infuriating smirk still tugging at his lips.

When Collins announced the next name, my heart skipped a beat.

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