I woke up with a headache.
Not just any headache—like someone was pressing a red-hot iron against my temple.
I groaned, sitting up in bed, rubbing my temples. My wrist throbbed faintly under the sheets, the mark still dark against my skin like ink that refused to fade.
Then I remembered.
The contract.
Damon.
Xue.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, swaying slightly. My body felt… off. Like it wasn't entirely mine anymore.
I stumbled into the living room.
Xue was already awake, curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. She looked better than she had last night—less pale, less hollow—but there was still something missing in her eyes.
"You're up early," I said, voice hoarse.
She turned toward me. "You don't look so good."
I managed a weak smile. "Feel worse."
Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door.
We both froze.
It was too early for visitors.
And somehow, I already knew who it would be.
I opened the door.
Damon stood there, as effortlessly composed as ever, dressed in his usual charcoal-gray suit. His blue eyes flicked over me with quiet amusement.
"Morning," he said.
I rubbed my forehead. "Do you always show up unannounced?"
"Yes."
He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.
Xue tensed beside me.
Damon barely spared her a glance before focusing back on me.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Like I've been run over by a truck," I muttered. "What did you do to me?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Nothing yet. Your body is adjusting to the contract's resonance. It will pass."
I frowned. "Resonance?"
He walked further into the apartment, hands in his pockets, as if he owned the place.
"The contract binds us not just by name," he explained. "But by energy. By soul. You'll feel me more clearly now. And soon, I'll be able to feel you too."
I didn't miss the way his voice softened slightly on the last sentence.
"What does that mean exactly?" Xue asked cautiously.
Damon finally looked at her again. "It means he's no longer fully human. He's tethered to the other world now—just like you."
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
I swallowed hard. "So what happens next?"
Damon smiled faintly. "Next, we begin your first task."
---
We were standing in the city park.
Rain from the previous days had left everything damp and slick, the air thick with the scent of earth and stone.
I shoved my hands into my coat pockets. "This is your idea of training?"
Damon smirked. "You need to learn how to sense the contract's pull. To understand its reach. Only then can you begin to use it."
I glanced at him. "Use it how?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached out and touched my wrist—where the mark burned cold beneath his fingers.
A shiver ran through me.
"There are rules," he said quietly. "First, you must learn to listen."
I closed my eyes, trying to focus past the lingering ache in my skull.
At first, there was nothing.
Then—
A whisper.
Faint, like wind through leaves.
Not words exactly. Just a presence.
Him.
I opened my eyes sharply. "I felt it."
Damon nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now let's see if you can follow it."
He pulled out a small silver pendant from his coat pocket and held it up.
"This belongs to someone who broke their contract," he said. "Find them. Bring them back."
I blinked. "Wait—you want me to hunt someone down?"
"I want you to prove you can listen," he corrected. "The contract connects us to those who owe us. Learn to follow the thread, and you'll never lose your target."
I hesitated. "And if I refuse?"
His expression didn't change, but the air around us grew colder.
"You won't," he said simply. "Because now, part of you wants to obey."
I hated how true that felt.
That Afternoon
We followed the trail across the city.
It led us to the outskirts—abandoned warehouses, rusted metal, shadows pooling like oil in the corners of forgotten places.
Damon walked ahead of me, silent and sure-footed.
I trailed behind, still trying to process everything.
"You're watching me closely," I said after a while.
He glanced over his shoulder. "You're fascinating."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to flatter me?"
He stopped walking and turned to face me fully. "You're different from the others."
I crossed my arms. "What others?"
He studied me for a long moment.
"There have been many before you," he admitted. "But none like you."
That strange warmth stirred in my chest again.
I shook my head, trying to ignore it. "You keep talking like I'm special. But I'm just some guy who signed his life away."
Damon stepped closer.
"You weren't just anyone," he said softly. "You never were."
Before I could ask what he meant, a sudden scream echoed from one of the warehouses.
Our eyes met.
Game on.