As she stared into his beautiful eyes, he pressed the pen into her hand. A sharp pain pulled her attention down, and she watched as the point depressed her skin. Something in the back of her mind rebelled at this imposition. He pushed the nib further, into her flesh, and she snapped out of the spell he’d woven. What was I thinking, mooning over this posh twat?

“Ow!” She yanked her arm backward, gripping the cut. Blood dripped between her fingers.

“Apologies for that, Ursula.” A seductive smile played over his lips, but she wasn’t falling for his act anymore.

He produced a small, yellowed piece of parchment from his other pocket, pushing it toward her along with the blood-inked pen. “Please. I need you to sign.”

Her hand throbbed, and she shook it, trying to focus her thoughts. Everything about this man was alluring, but right now only one angry thought burned in her mind: This entitled wanker thinks he can get whatever he wants. Just like Rufus.

She blinked, trying to clear her mind. Of course she shouldn’t trust the psycho who’d stalked her into her kitchen. And did he want her soul? She wasn’t signing that away. She had no idea what a soul was for, or even if it was real, but she didn’t want to find out what happened when you gave one away.

She glanced down at the parchment, at the faded beige writing. Only a few words were legible in the candlelight, and though the language wasn’t English, the looping letters looked strangely familiar. She almost had the sense that if she concentrated hard enough, she could read it. In fact, she could translate a few of the words: soul, contract, eternal. The longer she looked at it, the clearer the words became.

“What’s this language?”

“Angelic.”

“What?” She glared up at the towering stranger. “What happens if I sign it?”

“You’ve really never been told this?” He seemed genuinely curious. “How did you come to carve yourself in the first place if you don’t know who Emerazel is?”

“I have no idea.” She nodded at the parchment. “It says something about an eternal contract.”

His brow shot up. “You can read this?”

“Yes. Don’t ask me how. Is this some sort of pact with the devil?”

He exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose as though marshaling an extreme amount of patience. “No. There is no devil.” He gazed up again, a charming smile playing about his lips. “I understand this must be confusing for you. I will leave you as soon as you do what I ask.”