Chapter 58: The contract (1)

Gabriel's fingers curled tightly against the fabric of his robe, his brain racing to process Damian's words.

 'Mate. No. That couldn't be. That shouldn't be.'

He forced himself to look at Damian, meeting his golden gaze with poised control. "You are mistaken," he said, his voice firm despite the weight on his chest. "Whatever you think, Your Majesty, the mark—" He hesitated, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. "That mark was never meant for anyone but me."

Damian hummed, seemingly considering his words. "And yet, here we are." His fingers lingered near the mark before eventually withdrawing, as if he had learned everything he needed simply by touching it. "You carved it into your own skin, correct. But there is magic beneath it..." He tilted his head slightly, studying Gabriel as if he were solving a puzzle. "That wasn't your doing."