CHAPTER 94
Caleb reached for the silver chalice resting on the scarred wooden table. He didn't offer it to Isabella; instead, he dipped his fingers into the dark, viscous liquid and turned toward her, his movements precise.
"The bond is anchored in the blood and the name," Caleb whispered. His voice took on a hollow, resonant quality that made the candle flames dance in frantic agitation.
"To break it, you must renounce him. Not just in your heart, Isabella, but in the very air of this realm."
Isabella felt the mark on her neck flare with white-hot intensity. It wasn't just stinging anymore; it felt like a branding iron being pressed into her pulse.
As the heat peaked, an image tore through her mind—a vision of a man's chest and back, a landscape of silvered skin and rugged strength.
"Say it, Bella," Caleb urged. He moved his hand toward her throat, the liquid on his fingertips smelling of stagnant iron and old earth.
"Say: 'I, Isabella, reject Lucian as my fated.'"
