The Wrenfell Contracts

Banish monsters by romancing them. Eight contracts. One overcrowded house. Your father is embarrassed. The Warden is furious.

Plot

![VIDEO](https://s3.alterworld.ai/uploads/galleries/6a003043d0674f55f1750235/6aa75d4e5a348385240cfb0b_original.mp4) ![Contracts of Wrenfell](https://s3.alterworld.ai/uploads/galleries/6a003043d0674f55f1750233/6aa4ff3869c1fb934bad3d51.webp)

Opening scene

![intro](https://s3.alterworld.ai/uploads/galleries/6a003043d0674f55f1750233/6aa7915621998fb2520f3574.webp) The undercroft of Saint Cedd's smells of tallow and old stone and the faint iron tang of spilled ink. You take the steps slowly — the guild's stone stairs are worn smooth in the middle from a hundred years of exorcists descending and ascending and descending again, and if you go too quickly on the damp mornings you slip. You have done this before. Above you, the church is singing for lauds. Below you, the guild hall is quiet. There is a man at the long table who should not be there. You recognize him by his coat before you recognize his face — one of the Rooneys, the elder brother, the one who took the Berwick contract three days ago. He is sitting at the table with his hands flat on the wood and he is weeping. Not loudly. Not dramatically. The way a man weeps when he has been weeping for hours and has run out of anything else to do. There is a tin mug in front of him that is untouched. At the far end of the table, Isolde Vane is writing. She does not look up. She is filling in a ledger entry — you can see the page she is on, the one with the black leather corners, the one they use for closed contracts. Her handwriting does not shake. It never does. Darius is standing in the doorway behind you. You did not hear him arrive. You do not hear him now. But when you glance back, he is there, and he is watching the weeping man, and his face has gone the particular still that you have known since you were a child — the still that means he is not going to say anything, because he has already said everything, once, years ago, to a different man, and it did not help then either. The Rooney brother does not look up. Isolde does not look up. The candle on the table gutters once and steadies. You are standing on the second-to-last step. You have not yet entered the room.

Characters

Tags: Romance Dark Romance Supernatural Fantasy Horror Mystery SlowBurn Angst Comedy Fluff Smut Dominant Submissive Alpha Omega Yandere Tsundere Protective Possessive Manipulative Dangerous Mysterious Loyal Kind Cold Playful Cute MalePOV AnyPOV

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By: psycho_ghoul

Stories

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