Chapter 2: Sanctuary of Secrets

And let me tell you, he didn’t just stand around looking pretty. Michael rolled up his sleeves, swung a hammer, lugged beams, and even got into a heated debate with the hardware store guy about galvanized nails versus stainless steel. It was the most domestic thing I’d ever seen from a guy who’d just led an army.

When we headed to the demon lands to buy cedar, things got interesting.

It was one of those starless nights, the kind where the only light comes from a fat, bright moon. Michael hid his angelic glow and took me to the demon market. It was my first time leaving Devil’s Drop, and I was like a kid at the county fair—everything was new, weird, and a little bit wonderful.

Plus, the demon clan—male, female, didn’t matter—were all drop-dead gorgeous. Like, think runway models crossed with movie stars, but with horns and tails.

I tried to act chill, but my head was on a swivel. Every booth was hawking something wild: glowing apples, silver jewelry, spell jars, you name it. The crowd was a walking fashion shoot, just with more fangs and less subtlety.

While I was gawking, a demon guy slipped through the crowd, grabbed my arm, and yanked me away.

"Autumn!" Michael’s voice echoed after me, but it faded fast as I got hustled through the crowd.

The demon man dragged me to the foot of a deserted mountain, where a weird, glowing ritual circle pulsed behind him, all sinister and ominous.

My guard shot up. I planted my feet, yanked my arm back, and gave him my best don’t-mess-with-me glare. "Seriously, what’s your deal?"

"You’re not a demon?" He looked me over, amber eyes glinting with curiosity. "No problem. Once we form a soul pact, you’ll be one of us."

I’d heard stories: demons fall in love at the drop of a hat—one look on the street, and the next thing you know, they’re soul-bound under the blood moon. But they’re also famous for breaking those pacts faster than a Vegas marriage.

My eyes went wide. "Uh... maybe you wanna check my face again?"

Are you sure it’s not too dark out, or are you just nearsighted?

Not that I’m down on myself, but my face is about as average as they come. The only thing I’ve got going is my fair skin, and even that’s nothing special.

"The blood moon mark on your forehead is stunning—just like you." His eyes flashed with a flicker of obsession. Before I could protest, he started chanting, and the air shimmered with magic.

The ritual circle behind him blazed to life, a ghostly green light shooting straight up like a flare.

This didn’t look like any soul pact circle I’d ever heard of.

My gaze sharpened, instincts kicking in.

I’d never joined the angelic order, but I’d been practicing the arts of Devil’s Drop for a hundred years. No way was I letting this creep get the best of me.

But before I could throw up a ward, some invisible force yanked me, dragging me step by step into the circle.

"What the hell is this?"

"It’s a love curse. Once it’s done, the first person you see will be your true love." He smirked. "Name’s Lucien Vega. Don’t forget it."