Chapter 332 The Fine Print

Chapter 332: Chapter 332 The Fine Print

Emilia’s POV

"Why not just ask Vesper?" Mindy said. "You’re her biggest client, aren’t you?"

I shook my head. "From what I’ve heard, her coven and ours are enemies. You never get the truth from an enemy. They’ll give you exactly the answer that serves them."

"Fair point," Mindy conceded.

I snatched Chuck’s phone off the table, pulled up a map, searched several forests in the south, and slid it back across to him.

"Uncle Chuck, do me a favor. Take a long, hard stroll down memory lane and see if anything shakes loose."

Then I stood and reached for my bag.

"Why not hire a private investigator?" Chuck called after me.

"Because," I said over my shoulder, "I seem to recall that Sebastian’s cellar is stocked with some genuinely excellent wine."

Chuck shot to his feet. "Emilia, you’re my favorite niece in the whole world. I swear to the Goddess I’ll dig up every last thing for you."

By afternoon, I swept back into Hexworks with my two gamma bodyguards and one of Sebastian’s sharpest lawyers in tow.

"Emmy, why must we always dress so... so... "Eve sighed as we rode the elevator upstairs.

"Opulent?" I offered, adjusting my collar. "Ostentatious? Go on. Flex that vocabulary of yours like Sebastian does."

"I had been going to say expensive, but sure."

"That’s the whole point," I told her. "A coven two months away from eviction needs a very clear reminder that the money has walked back through their door."

Vesper greeted me warmly. Nothing thawed a coven on the verge of eviction like the promise of five million dollars.

I skipped the pleasantries.

"I’ve brought my lawyer. Let’s see the contract."

She produced it. My lawyer took one copy and began to read, his frown deepening with every clause. I picked up the other and did the same.

Five million dollars. Cash up front.

My expression stayed smooth as glass while I mentally called them every kind of thief I could think of.

The rest of the contract was worse. One clause bound me and anyone acting on my behalf to never seek recourse against the coven. There were no penalties for breach. None for them, at least. Every line tilted the board in their favor.

Yet I had to admit that the contract was airtight on paper. It was legally sound, properly notarized, and difficult to challenge. Unfair did not mean unenforceable.

Whatever else they were, these witches knew their way around a courtroom.

I finished reading, set the pages down, and said nothing.

Vesper’s composure wavered. "Any... concerns?"

Oh, plenty. I had an entire list. But I smiled pleasantly. "No. No problems at all."

"Then shall we sign now?"

I smiled and let her sweat."What’s the rush? I have a few questions first."

"Go ahead."

"How do you actually strip the witch blood from me? What does it require?" I laced my fingers together. "A working this advanced must have demanding conditions."

Vesper’s smile faded. She lowered her eyes to the contract, then looked back at me. Silence stretched between us.

"That," she said at last, "is confidential. You’ll learn the details once the contract is signed. Not before."

I tapped the pages.

"Miss Crane, you and I both know how absurd this contract is. I haven’t picked it apart line by line because I’m trying to work with you in good faith. Where is yours?"

She studied me, clearly torn.

"You want my five million," I continued, "but you refuse to tell me what risk you’re asking me to accept. That isn’t a partnership. That’s a mugging. I did my reading, you know. Your coven is facing three lawsuits. The settlements alone could gut you."

I let that sink in.

"If you’d rather not deal in good faith, I’ll take my business to another coven. I hear there’s no shortage of hungry ones."

I rose and reached for my bag.

"Fine." The word snapped out of her. "Fine. Sit."

I sat.

"The spell is called the Sundering." Her voice dropped, all the salesmanship stripped away. "It’s an old, forbidden working, taken from the earliest fragments of witch scripture. Because it violates the first law of our kind, that blood is fate, the Witches’ Council banned it outright."

She folded her hands on the table.

"Successful castings are almost unheard of. Nearly every surviving record ends the same way. The caster dies. The subject dies. Or both die."

The room seemed to tilt.

For one second, I wondered if I had heard her wrong.

Dead? Or both?

I had come prepared to argue over money, legal terms, and medical risks. I had not expected her to sit across from me and calmly list all the ways this spell could kill me.

My fingers tightened against my knees.

"You said you would strip out the witch blood. You made it sound like a complicated procedure, not a death sentence."

Vesper leaned toward me. "I told you there was risk. Miracles are still possible."

Then she continued. "In a half-blood, the witch blood and wolf blood aren’t kept in separate rooms, Miss Taylor. They’re braided together. Two cords twisted into one, feeding each other from your first heartbeat in the womb."

My mouth went dry.

"That’s precisely why you can’t conceive. An embryo inside you is claimed by both bloodlines at once. The two powers fight over it, tear at it, and the child simply cannot withstand the strain."

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

"So the Sundering isn’t a matter of drawing out half of you," she said. "It has three stages. First, we unweave the two cords. Then we draw the witch blood out through your body. Finally, we leave the wolf blood intact so it can continue to sustain your life."

I stared at her, my thoughts spinning. "And what happens after that?"

"Your two bloodlines will fight the separation." Vesper’s eyes glittered like cold stones. "If we sever the wrong thread at the wrong moment, the entire braid can tear apart."

My breath caught.

"Both bloodlines rupture, and you die where you stand."

"And the other possibility?"

"Both bloodlines fall silent forever." Her voice remained calm. "The connection between your body and both bloodlines can collapse. You wake with no magic, no wolf, and no power at all. Just an ordinary woman staring at the ceiling."

I gripped the edge of my chair.

"So I could survive the spell and still lose everything that makes me who I am?"

Vesper gave a small nod. "That is the risk."