The Reaper's Blind Date with Destiny

"Hey beautiful, how old are you?"

"Thirty-two."

"You okay with someone smaller?"

"Depends. What are you referring to?"

"Age, obviously. Unless you meant—? Anyway, no offense, but you look pale. Your lips have a purple tinge, your forehead's shadowed… like you've got gynecological issues. Lucky for you, I specialize in that field—"

At the foot of the Vale of Cameron, Emory Belen was mid-conversation with the local village belle's sister-in-law when—

THWACK!

A sharp pain exploded across his skull as a white-haired old man smacked the back of his head. "You little brat! I sent you down the mountain to get married, not to harass women!"

"Master Wilson, I don't want to leave the Vale. I'd rather stay and take care of you."

Tears welled in Emory's eyes.

He'd been an orphan, adopted twenty-five years ago by Wilson Belen—the man who'd even given him his name. In those years, Emory had mastered the Phantom Arts of Medicine, the legacy of their lineage, and surpassed his master by unlocking the forbidden Reaper's Codex. The world knew him as The Reaper.

"Take care of me? Don't spout nonsense, boy! I'm in my prime! Besides, your Solar Vein Curse is flaring up. The only way for you to survive is by marrying a Madison woman!" Wilson scoffed. "And isn't Scarlet Madison your childhood sweetheart? Marrying her would fulfill your teenage dream, wouldn't it?"

Emory's cheeks flushed. Memories surfaced—Scarlet, a bright-eyed girl who'd once stayed at the Vale, sharing stories of city life, napping against his shoulder. On her last day, she'd vowed, "When I grow up, I'll marry you."

With a resigned sigh, Emory relented. "Fine, Master. Once the curse is broken, I'll return."

"Take this." Wilson tossed him a black pouch. "Red truffles from the Vale. One extends life by half a month. And remember—marry a Madison!"

…

The day Emory left, the elite of the nine realms received a seismic alert: The Reaper had descended upon the world.

"The Reaper's emerged?!" A tycoon roared, "Ready a 100-million-dollar dowry! My daughter will wed him! With him, we'd rule the world!"

"Princess Mia," a royal advisor urged, "the king commands you to find The Reaper and marry him—"

"Saintess," a sect elder pleaded, "only by allying with The Reaper can our ancient order rise again!"

…

Goldspire City, Vermillion Delta

Three days later, Emory arrived at the Madison estate, clutching a wrinkled betrothal contract and the black pouch.

"Grandma, I refuse!"

A cold-eyed woman in a white dress, her jet-black ponytail swaying, looked down her nose at him. "I, Scarlet Madison, was the campus queen from middle school through college. By graduation, I'd founded Scarlet Media. I'm worth millions! I'm the Golden Heiress of the Delta! And you expect me to marry some backwater nobody? No. Damn. Way."

Emory stared, barely recognizing the girl he'd once known. "Scarlet… you promised, back at the Vale—"

"God, Emory, grow up!" She laughed derisively. "Kids say stupid things! I'm a CEO; you're a farmer. One of my handbags costs more than you'll earn in ten lifetimes. And you think some childhood pinky swear entitles you to me? You're delusional!"

"It's not just a promise." Emory produced the contract, its ink declaring:

Emory Belen & Scarlet Madison—bound in matrimony.

"What?! Grandma, why does he have this?!" Scarlet whirled toward the elderly matriarch.

"Your grandpa owed Master Wilson a life debt," Madeline Madison explained calmly. "On his deathbed, he arranged this."

"Grandpa had no right to play matchmaker like that!" Scarlet stomped her foot in frustration.

After a moment of quiet, she snatched the contract and flung it into the trash. "Even if this relic's real, who honors betrothal contracts anymore? Newsflash, Emory—I'm not marrying you! A pheasant doesn't belong with a phoenix!"

"Scarlet, that's enough."

A soft voice cut through the tension. A wheelchair-bound woman with short hair retrieved the contract. "Everyone's equal. You owe your luxury to the labor of people like him."

She handed it back to Emory. "Ignore my cousin. Leaving the mountains took courage. I admire that."

Emory blinked. For a moment, he couldn't speak.

She was stunning—more so than Scarlet. Her pearl-white dress, her poised grace, the quiet dignity in her eyes… She was unlike anyone he'd ever met.

"Oh please, Cora!" Scarlet sneered. "You're a cripple who only survives because of my connection to Dr. Ian Donovan! Know your place—or I'll have him cut off your meds!"

A smirk twisted her lips. "Actually… since you're so fond of Emory, why don't you marry him? A wheelchair-bound burden and a hillbilly—perfect match! No man in Goldspire would want you anyway."

She meant it as a jab. But to everyone's shock, Cora nodded. "Fine. I will."

She met Emory's eyes. "The Madisons owe your master a debt. If Scarlet won't repay it, I will.

"Emory Belen… will you marry me?"