Bride of the Dead Heir

"There can't be any cameras in the room. I don't want anybody eavesdropping or watching in secret. Some rites aren't meant to be witnessed. Anyone who interferes risks consequences."

I let my voice carry just enough weight to make it sound real.

Truth was, I just didn't want anything coming back on me later.

What I did wasn't something you could drag into the light. If anyone saw too much, heard too much, or decided to talk, I would be finished.

So I kept things locked down.

Every client came through referrals, and I made sure there wasn't even the slightest chance of anything leaking out.

"Don't worry, Ms. McCoy. This room is isolated on three sides. It's completely private. Max valued quiet, so it's fully soundproofed, and there aren't any cameras."

Alan sounded convincing enough.

I nodded and handed over my phone.

They left.

I drew the curtains, then pulled a small handheld scanner from my bag and swept the room.

When I reached a display cabinet, I paused.

Right there, sitting in front of an outrageously expensive limited-edition figurine.

No cameras? Yeah, right.

The old fox was more calculating than he let on.

I didn't call it out. I just let out a quiet sigh and played along.

I grabbed a bottle of lotion and set it casually in front of the figurine, blocking the hidden lens completely.

The scan didn't pick up any bugs at least.

Still, I wasn't taking chances.

I lit a thick black candle and set it burning slowly, and then flipped on a signal jammer. Soon, the room was filled with haze.

Even if there was something I missed, no one would be seeing anything clearly now.

To complete the setup, I changed into a black wedding dress.

This was the Spirit Bride Rite, after all.

When everything was ready, I turned toward the bed.

Max lay there, perfectly still, without the faintest sign of life.

The water had left its mark, but it hadn't ruined him.

He still looked really good.

I had been doing this long enough. I had seen every kind of body there was. Nothing about it scared me anymore.

If anything, I caught myself studying him.

Even knowing he and Titus were twins, Max clearly had the better features.

Even if you ignored the sharp lines of his face, the strength in his chest alone said everything. Max had lived with discipline, the kind that came from countless hours in the gym.

As I undressed him, my hands lingered a little longer than they needed to.

"My lord, tonight, you're mine. Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

My fingers brushed along his jaw, cool beneath my touch.

I had to admit, the Buckleys had done their part. Keeping a body this close to natural warmth wasn't easy.

For now, I treated him like he was still alive.

Slowly, I worked my way down, removing the last of his clothing.

Once he was fully uncovered, I reached into my bag and pulled out a small needle kit.

"You've got a full head of hair, not a hint of thinning. Honestly, that's better than most guys your age."

I kept my tone light as I worked, pressing the needles into key points along his scalp.

I believe the spirits see all things. Even if it was just a body, I still treated it with respect and did everything I could to make the moment feel right.

Besides, this was technically my husband. I had sealed it myself, name and all. Saying a few nice things was the least I could do.

"My lord, you've got a perfect build. I bet you had no shortage of admirers."

I kept going, placing each needle with care, my hands moving gradually lower as I traced the line of his body.

When I reached his nether region, I paused, surprised despite myself.

"Wow. You weren't lacking. Whoever married you would've been lucky."

I secured the final seven needles in place, completing the binding points. Then I began working through the channels with a specialized technique, steady and precise.

It took about half an hour before I finally reached for the medical syringe.

Time to collect.

To my surprise, I drew nothing.

I frowned. Why wasn't it working?

Five minutes passed, and I still couldn't get anything.

I set the syringe aside and went back to the technique, retracing every step.

Fifteen minutes later, I tried again.

Still nothing.

A thin layer of sweat formed on my forehead.

It seemed like this one wasn't going to be easy.

I adjusted the needles with my right hand while continuing the work with my left.

As the process grew more complex, I realized two hands weren't enough. I had to lean in closer, using the rest of my body to keep the rhythm steady.

I kept at it for a while longer.

Then suddenly, I froze.

Unless I imagined it…something had just twitched.