Page 51 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

She shrugs and gives me an evil little smile. “Cornelius.”

That doesn’t make any fucking sense. The cat might be a little asshole, but why would he sell out Cordie to the coven that he doesn’t trust?

“He told us before we headed over here,” Hope explains. “How can that be true, Wallace? Witches don’t have mates the way fae do. They’re supposed to be rare even for your kind.”

Everyone turns their attention to the supposedly super powerful fae dude who’s still leaning against the counter, looking bored.

He nods. “It is true. They are fated to mate. It is also true that such a blessing is rare for our kind. I suspect that is why the shrouding spell had a different effect on him, though it worked as intended on the both of you until you came into your powers on your twenty-first birthdays.”

I’m no word nerd, but even I know there’s a difference between fated to mate versus fated mates.

“ How is it true, Wallace?” Neveah presses. “How is he one of you? Is it just him? Is it all of the Castellaws?”

I snap my gaze to Wallace. Cordie isn’t the only one who doesn’t know her origin story. My brothers deserve to know where we come from as much as she does.

He shakes his head. “I can only guess.”

“So guess,” I demand.

“I will not,” he says, eyeing the sword. “No good can come of it.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Neveah mutters. “A favor for a favor.”

Shit. The witches definitely know how to control him.

Immediately, Wallace snaps to attention. He works his jaw back and forth, and then he mutters, “What do you request of me?”

“I want to know how Duke Castellaw is faekind. I want to know if all of the Castellaws are. I want to know everything you know—or can guess—about the subject,” Neveah says.

“We do not have an accord,” Wallace wheezes.

What the hell?

It looks like it’s killing him not to agree. His lips turn blue, and his chest heaves like he’s struggling for air.

Cordie, shit’s going off the rails in here. Mayday, mayday.

“What did you say?” Neveah narrows her eyes.

“We do not have an accord,” Wallace repeats on a hoarse whisper. “I decline.”

“Neveah,” Hope murmurs. “Release him. We have a much bigger accord than this one.”

“Fine.” She flicks her fingers in his direction. “I release you.”

I breathe a sigh of relief when he does. If she kills my best line of information, I’m going to slice and dice tonight after all.

I hope we can get back to business, but Neveah turns her scary eyes on me, and I rethink that.

“Duke Castellaw,” she croons in a way that raises every hair on Cordie’s body. “A favor for a favor. ”

Nothing happens.

I blink at her, glancing over my shoulder when I hear Cordie enter the room.

Shit. Cordie. Who’s in my body.

She walks toward us with stiff steps, like she has no choice.

Gingersnap? Are you okay?

No answer.

“What do you request of me?” she says like a robot.

Fuck. Because I’m fae, and she’s trapped in my body. She already figured out that those powers are mine, so the traps are, too.

“Neveah, you go too far,” Wallace warns. “They are not in their right bodies. Even if they were, he is untested. I have no idea what consequences may arise if you go forward with this.”

“It’ll have the consequence of your dear brother finishing the job he started if we don’t find that library and get Delia the hell out of here,” she mutters.

Holy fucking hell. Wallace has a brother. Did Neveah just dox him as the guy who murdered Cordie’s mother?

I grasp my hand, but it’s ice cold. I squeeze my fingers, but she doesn’t squeeze back.

Gingersnap?

Nothing. Not even a sideways glance.

Neveah grimaces. “I need to know the location of Granny McCoy’s secret library.”

“We do not have an accord,” Cordie says, in that off way.

“No.” I wind her arm around my waist and beg Neveah, “Call it off. Release her.”

I rest her cheek against my chest, but she’s breathing evenly.

Hope frowns. “Refusing isn’t affecting her. What’s happening?”

“My request is for you to tell me the location of Granny McCoy’s witch library,” Neveah tries again.

“We do not have an accord,” Cordie repeats.

I glance up at my face. She still looks okay. My eyes are unfocused and staring straight ahead, but my lips aren’t turning blue.

“Fucking hell,” Neveah mutters. “Okay, how about…I request you to show me any space in this house that has ever seemed odd to you. An ything that ever felt off at any time that you can remember for as long as you lived here.”

“We have an accord,” Cordie says, before turning in the circle of her arms. She breaks my hold easily, then walks slowly back into the sitting room.

Neveah and Hope scurry after her, but I hold up the sword to stop Wallace. He looks down at the thing that can maybe kill him, then up at me.

“What just happened?” I ask him.

He smirks. “She couldn’t agree to a bargain that she wasn’t capable of fulfilling.

Magic obeys very strict rules. It always comes with a price, but it is always fair.

Now, if I were you, I would lower that weapon and go into the other room to see what she is showing them.

I would also advise keeping the Sword of Skye well away from your mate, who is in your body.

Neveah spoke true. It is one of the few weapons that can harm our kind. ”

Harm. Not kill.

I file that information away for later, then take Cordie’s fine ass back to her side.

She stands in front of a particular corner of the room, blinking like she’s waking up from a deep sleep.

“We’ve already checked this area,” Neveah whines, crouching near the floor and feeling along the walls with her hands. “There’s nothing here.”

I glance at Cordie, but she’s still staring at the corner and chewing on my lip. “It has to be here. This corner has always been shadowed, no matter the time of day or angle of the sun through the windows.”

I’m sorry they used you this way, Gingersnap. I should’ve figured out that you could be trapped into bargains while you’re in my body. If you don’t want them to find the library, then I can distract them. Just say the word.

She doesn’t say anything at all.

Hope’s wide eyes shoot to Cordie. “She used a blood spell.”

I don’t like the sound of that. I grip the hilt tighter and prepare to fight our way out of here if we have to.

Wallace nods with a small smile, like he’s pleased. “Her most prized treasure to secure her second most prized treasure. Brilliant, Ellen.”

Fuck. Over my dead body are they going to spill Cordie’s blood.

Neveah grabs Cordie’s wrist. Before I can think of the quickest escape route, a searing pain slices across it.

She grins at me. She’s holding a dagger that I never saw on her.

I look down to where Cordie’s perfect skin is split wide open.

That bitch slit her wrist to the bone. Blood gushes out of the deep gash.

“Duke! No!” Cordie lurches toward me, but Wallace holds her back and murmurs something in her ear.

Cordie’s blood sizzles with my rage as it falls in deafening splatters onto the floor.

“Take. Your. Hands. Off. Her,” I growl.

If the last thing I can do is get her out of here, then I’ll go down swinging to make that happen.

Wallace continues speaking against my ear before releasing Cordie and putting his hands in the air.

Hope flips through a book she’s holding, and then thrusts it toward me. “Here. Quick. Read this.”

I shake Cordie’s head.

“Read it,” Neveah repeats with more force. “You have an hour to make the right choice. Maybe a little less.”

I snap my gaze to Cordie. I can’t. I can’t do it.

It would take all my draining concentration and maybe a couple of hours to read this single page.

“I’m dyslexic,” I croak. “I don’t see words the way you do.”

“Fuck.” Neveah blows out a breath.

“Does the spell have to be said in her voice?” Hope asks.

Wallace frowns. “It does.”

“What if I read it to him and then he repeats it?” Neveah checks.

Wallace shakes his head. He glances meaningfully between me and Cordie.

Cordie nods, then rushes toward her body that’s still bleeding out. I sway on her feet. The edges of my vision go blurry. She wraps one of my arms beneath hers then looks at the page.

For the first time in what feels like forever, she speaks to me .

Listen closely and repeat after me.

I’m sorry, Cordie. I—I tried.

Her icy cold fingers can’t feel the hilt of the sword anymore. It falls from her hand and makes a metallic, clattering noise when it hits the ground.

I know you did. We have to get this right on the first try, okay?

I nod, but the movement feels sluggish.

She props her weight up more against my body then says slowly, Blood of my blood, life of my line.

I repeat the words out loud.

With power and love, all in due time.

I slur a few of the words.

I am yours, and you are mine.

I don’t just mumble those words. I believe them, somewhere in my mind that feels far away and hazy.

All that I have is yours in kind .

As soon as the last word rolls off her numb tongue, the shadows in the corner peel away, revealing a set of stairs that disappear into pitch blackness. Hope rushes toward them like she’s not afraid of the dark.

Before she disappears from sight, I startle at the sensation of hot warmth replacing the ice leaking out of Cordie’s veins.

I blink at the sight of my mouth sealed over her wrist. It doesn’t feel like she’s sucking her body dry, like a vampire would.

More like my tongue is slowly, firmly lapping across the gash.

The longer she goes at it, the more pleasure fizzles through her body, leaving me warm and tingly.

After a few minutes, I feel a hell of a lot like I do when I come all over my own hand.

Cordie never breaks my gaze as she holds me up, licking at her own skin.

“Is this a good idea, Wallace?” Neveah slides the dagger into her pants, and it disappears. “Weren’t you the one who said he’s untested?”

His voice sounds closer when he says, “It is forbidden to taste another’s mate. Cordelia must perform the honors. You had better hope this works.”