Page 28 of Checks & Bonds

"Forty thousand," I countered immediately.

The stakes were high, but losing her wasn’t an option. I'd do whatever it took to claim her tonight—no matter the cost.

Collins raised an eyebrow but said nothing more as the bidding continued to escalate around us.

“One hundred thousand,” I declared, my voice slicing through the murmurs like a knife.

The room fell silent, the air thick with shock. Faces turned towards me, eyes wide and jaws slack.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Jensen spat, his eyes narrowing. “Just to get a taste of your own pussy?”

“And to keep you from it,” I growled back, meeting his gaze head-on. The tension between us crackled like static electricity.

Mr. Collins cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him. “One hundred thousand dollars is the highest anyone has ever bid,” he announced, a note of admiration in his voice. “Henry, to you. The spoils. Come. Let’s conduct the ritual.”

I moved to stand in front of Freya, my heart pounding in my chest. She looked up at me, defiance still flickering in her eyes despite the situation.

Mr. Collins took a clean blade and reached for Freya's hand. “What the—” she began, her voice laced with confusion and fear.

“Don’t,” I interrupted, my tone firm. I took the blade from Collins’ hand before he could proceed. “I’ll do it.”

Freya’s eyes flashed with anger and something else—betrayal, maybe? I locked eyes with her, my grip tightening around the blade.

“I warned you,” I said, my voice low and intense. “Now, give me your hand.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching mine for any sign of weakness or hesitation. Then, reluctantly, she placed her hand in mine. Her skin was cool and soft against my palm, a stark contrast to the tension that buzzed between us.

As I positioned the blade over her palm, I realized just how much bigger my hand was than hers. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut—an overwhelming surge of protective instincts flooded through me.

I made a shallow cut across her palm, watching as her blood welled up and began to trickle down her fingers. She winced but didn’t pull away. Then I did the same thing to my own palm.

Our blood mingled as we pressed our hands together—a tangible symbol of the bond we were about to forge.

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

Freya looked like she wanted to argue, her eyes narrowing and her lips pressing into a thin line. I shot her a glare, hoping she'd understand the gravity of the situation.

"I do," she replied tightly, the words coming out like they were dragged from her throat.

"And do you vow to protect your partner?" Collins asked, turning to me.

"I do."

"Now, for the kiss." Collins stepped back, giving us space.

I leaned down, my breath hitching as I closed the distance between us. This was our first kiss, and it felt monumental. I was hungry for her, desperate to claim what was mine. My lips crashed onto hers with a fervor that surprised even me. The taste of her, sweet and defiant, ignited something primal inside me. My fingers tightened around her hand, feeling the slick warmth of our mingled blood between our palms.

Freya's lips parted slightly in surprise, and I took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Anger simmered beneath my hunger—anger that she hadn't been mine first, that I'd had to fight for this moment. The kiss was a battle of wills, a struggle for dominance that neither of us wanted to lose.

I pulled away reluctantly, my breath ragged and my heart pounding in my chest. Freya's eyes were wide with a mix of emotions—confusion, anger, maybe even a hint of fear. But there was also something else there, something that mirrored the hunger I felt.

"Let this Bond be honored," Collins said solemnly, breaking the charged silence that had enveloped us. "Mote it be."

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

It was official; Freya belonged to me now.

9

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