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Sifting through her jumbled thoughts, she shook her head. This was wrong, so very wrong. The sickening sensation returned to the pit of her stomach. He was manipulating her, using their magic to lure her, to draw her further into his dark, evil clutch.

For good measure, she took several steps back, widening the gap between them. Her skin crawled as if a dozen bugs skittered across her flesh. How could he, one minute, make her feel invincible, and the next, repulse her?

She ran her hand through her hair and flicked a glance over his shoulder, through the window. Yelena was inside, and Adelina needed to keep Filip distracted for as long as possible.

“I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting the magic to be so…intense.”

It wasn’t technically a lie.

“How about we try again?” He smiled, and she frowned. It seemed genuine.

Managing a nod, she repositioned herself, and held her breath, waiting for the critter sensation of bugs crawling across her arms as he moved closer.

As he placed his hands on her wrists, she coaxed her magic forth, encouraging it to flow from her in golden beams. The beams coiled, forming the embroidery whip she was familiar with. His nether magic poured from him like black smoke and shadows swirling around her own. They merged.

Intense power shot through her, and when she looked over her shoulder at Filip, her disgust washed away.

If anything, she desired him. All memories of the past horrors caused by his hands disappeared from her mind.

Her sister’s memory disappeared. Damir disappeared.

Him and her, their infinite power, remained.

This time, their magic bolted to the distant tree—it blasted against the trunk, sending bark hurtling. The tip of her whip lashed upward, slicing through several dense branches. They clambered to the floor.

“Impressive,” he breathed against her cheek .

She leaned into him, feeding off his magic, relishing in the strength it gave her. She wanted more. But he withdrew his magic and stepped away.

Stumbling backwards, her mind reeled. She was a married woman, and yet he tempted her with power lust, drawing her into his web of manipulation. Clutching her abdomen, she heaved, throwing up the contents of her stomach onto the manicured lawn. At least he disgusted her again.

“It will take time to get used to,” he said.

Alarm bells rang in her brain—he’d lured her with darkness, showed her how powerful she could be if she stayed on this path with him.

An image of her sister shone brightly in her mind’s eye. A reminder of what he’d done. He was not someone she could trust. She clung onto the thread of sanity for dear life because she couldn’t afford to lose herself to the addictive power of merged astral and nether magic.

She needed to get away from him, and fast. As far as her legs to carry her. The flight response kicked in. But her legs were jelly, and she knew she had to keep Filip distracted until Yelena grabbed the book.

A loud clamber came from inside the palace. Filip jolted his head to the door.

Adelina’s heart rate spiked. Probably Damir’s fake runaway attempt to distract the guards from Yelena.

Filip lifted his foot and stepped towards the palace. Holding her breath, she clasped his hand, drawing his attention back to her.

“Stay,” she whispered. “I want to learn more. Show me. ”

His lips curled into a pleased smiled. “I’m liking this new side of you, Adelina. But I don’t want to destroy any more of my lovely garden.” He laughed.

Although her stomach churned with revulsion, she needed to keep his focus on her, and away from Yelena and Damir. She would do whatever it took and worry about the consequences of it later.

“What about the prism world?” she suggested. “It would give us a safe space to practise using our magic together—the way it was intended.”

She hoped he hung on her last words, and by his expression, he seemed intrigued. But she knew what he was like—always ahead of her, calculated and strategic.

Not wanting him to have too long to consider it, she conjured the portal. It spun and crackled. Swallowing the urge to vomit, she held her hand out to him.

His gaze landed on her upturned palm briefly, as if questioning her motives. But he accepted it and followed her into the prism world.

Inside was a perfect reflection of Kirovo Palace’s immaculate gardens. She wondered for a moment why exactly they looked that way—why not a field, a mountain, a beach? Why was it a constant reminder of what she was shackled to?

Filip wasted no time—he was behind her, hands on hers, intertwining his fingers with hers. There was something possessive about his stance, the way he pressed his body to her back, his warm breath on her nape.

Their magic fused together, hit the glass panels of the prism world, and rained fragments onto them.

She covered her head with her hands .

“Magnificent.” He laughed.

“How?” She frowned. “It is no different to when I trained here without my talisman. I’ve shattered the prism world several times before.”

“Maybe so, but this is the beginning. You can feel the current of magic surging through you when we link hands, don’t you? It’s addictive. It makes you feel free, powerful, superior . Doesn’t it?” He didn’t say his words like questions, but as statements of truth.

As much as she despised it, she did find truth in his words. And it shocked her to the core. She didn’t want to follow him deeper into darkness. Yet she’d tasted what her magic was like with him by her side, and she couldn’t deny it did feel good.

She dipped her head, stepping away from him. “Maybe that’s enough for tonight. I don’t want to tire myself out.”

He tilted his head and surveyed her. “You are quite curious, Adelina.”

Unsure how to respond to his strange statement, she nodded, then hopped out of the prism world. Yelena strolled along the path, her gaze connecting with Adelina’s.

Adelina rose a questioning brow.

Nodding once, Yelena wiggled her arm as she held something under her cloak.

Filip exited the prism world, and it snapped shut behind him. A guard approached him from the doorway.

“A prisoner tried to escape, sir,” he said.

Filip met his gaze with his own stern stare. “Who?”

“Damir Litvin, sir,” the guard said .

“I presume you have reincarcerated him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then what is the problem?” Filip’s words were blunt, and he’d pronounced the consonants sharply. Adelina interpreted it as his frustration at having his attention pulled from her.

“Nothing else, sir,” the guard said.

“Your husband ought to stay in line.” Filip shifted his stern gaze to her. “Perhaps he needs reminding not to get on my bad side. Or has he forgotten what happens when someone does?”

“If you’ll allow me, I will speak to him. He won’t do anything like it again. I’ll make sure of it,” she said.

“No,” he said. “You will not.”

She kept her unwavering gaze on him because she couldn’t find the words—she knew what would happen if she challenged him.

“It’s late,” she finally breathed. “I’ll be going to my chamber.”

Filip nodded. “Off you go.”

She slipped past him and the guard, hurried through the foyer, and up the marble staircase. When she was inside her room, she pressed her back to the door. Her heart hammered in her chest. She’d tasted her magic at full power, and she’d liked it. Worse, it’d made Filip desirable in her eyes.

Lifting her hand to her chest, she thought of Tihana and her parents. There’d be no funeral for her sister, no goodbyes. A sudden chill swept over her, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Wandering to the cabinet, she lit a candle, then sat on the windowsill beside it .

“I love you, Tihana. With all my heart,” she whispered around the lump in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes. “I will make this right. I promise.”

She went to bed with a heaviness in her chest, and a crippling need to be with her mother and father. Even her own husband was left below ground in a dark, damp cell.

Pulling the covers over her head, she clamped her eyes shut.