Sandy's POV
A witch's contract. I exhaled slowly and rolled onto my back across his expansive bed, staring up at the ceiling above me.
Charles was an Alpha King, no, a Hybrid, and he wanted me bound to him through a witch's contract.
The proposition had caught me completely off guard.
A witch's contract meant binding our souls through blood and promise. Charles and I would slice our palms open, mingle our blood together, then a witch would weave a spell into that crimson mixture before we each consumed a single drop.
The blood would transform into poison, a lethal countdown waiting in our veins.
Should either of us violate the terms we agreed upon in writing, the poison would course through our bloodstream, and whoever broke the contract would face certain death.
When Charles presented this idea the previous evening, I had been rendered speechless. He hadn't pressured me for an immediate answer, instead leaving me alone in his chamber to contemplate his proposal.
