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Robert runs his tie through his fingers, an odd smile on his face. "You think? I had the option of one with little snowmen on it, but I was given this instead. I found it whimsical. Would probably lighten up the atmosphere here."
Adam is still glaring daggers at us, and I quickly say, "I need some fresh air. I'm going to head outside."
"The terrace on that side of the room should be fairly empty," Robert points out. "Come on. Some fresh air would be good for me as well. This place is stuffy, and I'm sure someone farted in here."
I snicker, following him out.
To my surprise, the terrace is completely empty, probably because of how cold it is outside. Robert covers me with his jacket, and I feel flustered at the gesture. Like me, he too is flawed. I don't consider his scar a flaw, but to the eyes of the pack, shifters are meant to have no physical weakness.
"Some of those people in there are vultures." Robert shudders.
"I got a lot of job offers." I smile, feeling a little smug. "I don't know if they meant it or not, but I might check them out."
"Really?" He sounds surprised. "How many?"
I count in my head. "Eleven. One offered to give me a blood oath to never fire me. I thought that was sweet."
Robert gives me the side-eye. "You have a weird definition of sweet."
I cast him a glance and keep my voice carefully casual. "Are blood oaths and blood debts the same thing?"
He frowns thoughtfully, using his forearms to lean on the railing. "No. I don't think so. You die gruesome deaths if you break both, but they're definitely not the same thing."
"What's the difference?" I ask.
He throws me a look. "Why're you curious? You're not considering that job, are you?"
"No." I shrug. "I've just never heard of those, so I was curious."
"Hmm, well a blood oath is what the name suggests. You take an oath and seal the deal with your blood. They're pretty common but usually occur within families. Blood debts are different. They're a more archaic practice. Like, if someone from my family killed someone from your family, the victim's family can demand a blood debt. They can ask for the killer to be given to them. It's like a slavery bond, blood magic. In olden times, these blood debts usually ended with the guilty party brutally murdered in a year or so, after sufficient torture."
"Was it always the killer who was handed over?" I press.
"Well, not always. Say the killer was the head of the family or someone too young. Then another family member would take their place. They would either be killed or married into the victim's family. Life was not good for the one carrying the blood debt, but it was a thing."
"That sounds harsh," I murmur. "So, there's no way to break the blood debt?"
"Sure." Robert grins. "If you want your blood to turn to acid and die a slow, agonizing death."
"I meant an escape from the blood debt." I roll my eyes, trying to act natural.
"You mean, without dying or being freed from it?" Robert questions me.
I nod.
He thinks about it, and after a minute, he says, "Well, I remember reading about a case where an old man was let out of the blood debt. His heart stopped for five minutes while he was being tortured. He was resuscitated, and when he woke up, his blood debt was gone. He was a free man. They killed him anyway because they still hadn't gotten their revenge, but it's the only recorded case of someone managing to get free from a blood debt."
"You mean there have been others?"
He shrugs. "You hear things, mostly rumors, but always the same story. Heart stops for five minutes and they're free. Dangerous game to be playing, though. Doesn't matter. Blooddebts are rare now and they're heavily frowned upon. If someone wants to contract a blood debt, the Alpha of the pack has to decide whether or not to go ahead with it. Especially since blood debts can be carried through generations, it's even more frowned upon."
"What do you mean?" I ask, alarmed.
"Well," Robert seems to be enjoying himself right now, "if a female who is tied to a blood debt gives birth to a child, the blood debt extends to the child as well. Like I said, inhumane. There's a reason why it's so heavily disliked."
My mouth turns dry.
"Well," I manage, looking away from him, "that certainly seems problematic."
