Isolde's expression shifted, the last traces of fluster fading into quiet seriousness. She extended her hand toward Adam, palm up, her pale blue eyes holding his gaze with unwavering intensity.
"Are you ready?"
Adam's lips curved into a soft, genuine smile. He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers before he took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
"I'm always ready for you."
The ritual circle responded instantly. The crimson lines flared with brilliant light, pulsing in a rhythm that matched their heartbeats. The air around them grew thick, heavy with ancient power.
Isolde's voice was steady, carrying the weight of centuries.
"Give me your blood."
