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Valen cradled me against his chest as we moved through the fortress. Stone. Gray stone. That was all I could see.

Each step he took reverberated through my bones and ignited memories of the torment I’d endured at the hands of my captors. Thoughts that threatened to consume me.

Even after I’d promised— Even after all of that, they had almost taken my life.

Out of spite? Desperation?

My throat ached from where the enchanted chain had tightened around it, and my body screamed with pain from days spent on the cold stone floor of my cell. I didn’t know how much time had passed.

How could I?

But they’d come for me.

The Necromi—the ones who had taken me—they’d assured me that no one was coming.

But I could smell their blood on the stones.

They’d gotten what they deserved.

“Almost there,” Valen murmured.

The blood bond that had been muted by the keylines surged in my veins and I relished being able to feel my stepbrothers again.

Titus seethed with anger. Valen’s concern and care for me was obvious in the way he held me, but I could feel it, too. But Bastian— there was something different about him. Something I couldn’t place.

I concentrated on Valen’s heartbeat and the pulse of his magic.

I laid my fingertips on his chest and murmured a spell that the grimoire coaxed into my mind.

A minor drain on his power—nothing invasive—he wouldn’t even notice.

But I felt the effect of it immediately.

A door splintered under Titus’ magic and cold air swept into the corridor. I burrowed against Valen’s chest as I shuddered with the chill.

As we stepped into the courtyard, the atmosphere shifted like a dark curtain unfurling before a storm.

The claustrophobic grip of the fortress gave way to an open expanse, and I looked up.

The sky.

How long had it been since I’d looked at the sky?

Stars sparkling through the web of storm clouds that loomed overhead.

Beautiful.

“Can you walk?” Valen asked.

The softness of his voice startled me. “I—”

Before I could gather my thoughts, I caught sight of a strange glow at the heavy door at the edge of the courtyard.

Bastian saw it, too, and he leapt in front of Valen and I as the massive wooden door exploded inward with a flourish of red smoke magic. I screamed as the concussion blast hit us and Valen’s arms tightened around me.

“What the fuck is he doing here—” Bastian’s hiss made Valen turn, and I watched, horrified, as Lucian strode through the wreckage of the doors.

Flanked by his ever-watchful guards, he swept into the courtyard like a medieval ruler.

Smoky tendrils of power wrapped around his long fingers and wound up his arms like bloodstained snakes as he crossed the torn grass. The grimoire’s presence rose in my mind even as the blood ran cold in my veins. Lucian’s pale gaze pierced through me, and an unsettling chill mingled with the warmth Valen provided. The red orb that accompanied Lucian everywhere floated just behind him and pulsed with the unnatural light of his power.

Valen adjusted his hold slightly, and I caught Titus’s eye.

There was something lingering in his expression, but Lucian’s steely demeanor overshadowed it.

“Gather the remaining members of this traitorous Council,” Lucian commanded. “Bring the rats to me.”

The guards shifted into action without hesitation, and I watched them disappear into the fortress.

Who was still left alive in there? What if they’d fled— I couldn’t identify any of them. Not by face or by name.

As I was gradually set on my feet by Valen, the brief absence of his warmth left me unsteady. I braced myself against the cool stone of the courtyard wall, but my legs were wobbly and my skin was on fire in a hundred different places.

Lucian was upon us in an instant, and Valen stepped back as his father approached.

Without warning, Lucian swept me into his arms.

My body stiffened at the familiarly jarring touch of his embrace.

Where Valen’s body had been warm against mine—Lucian was cold.

His lips brushed against my forehead, an act of concern that felt overblown and insincere. I couldn’t escape the knowledge that this embrace was more about possession than anything else.

“My dearest— they will pay for what they’ve done to you,” he murmured, then looked up at his sons. “Thank you for bringing her back to me,” he purred. I could sense Valen’s discomfort and Titus’s barely contained ire simmering beneath the surface.

Bastian was off to the side, seemingly nonchalant, yet I could feel the tension coiling like a serpent ready to strike.

Despite their allegiances to Lucian, their loyalties were equally to each other—and to me.

“Of course they belong to you,” the grimoire whispered. “If they betray you—they die.”

Would they?

The relief that flooded through me to hear the grimoire’s voice after so much silence was bittersweet—what if Lucian could sense it?

What then?

Lucian held me against his chest with one hand while the other stroked my tangled hair.

It was meant to be comforting, but my skin crawled and I fought to stay still when all I wanted to do was scream in his face and run away.

I’d never survive that kind of rebellion.

A cacophony of screams and groans filled the air as Lucian’s guards dragged the remaining members of the Black Council into the courtyard.

As the guards threw them one by one onto the grass at Lucian’s feet, their limbs trembled and their eyes were wide with terror.

“So many left,” Titus mused.

He seemed disappointed.

“How many were there?” Bastian exclaimed. “A nest of rats!”

The guards moved with brutal efficiency as they shoved the members to their knees on the wet ground. Their once-lofty figures had been reduced to quaking, crawling animals who sought mercy from a vengeful god.

Not so long ago, they had loomed over me—threatening to kill me. To destroy everything I loved if I didn’t agree to help them.

“Did you—?”

The grimoire’s question was sharp.

It didn’t know what I’d promised, and I forced my thoughts to turn away from what had happened in that dark stone cell.

“Please! We were loyal!” one of the Council members cried out. His voice cracked in the stillness.

“Lucian, forgive us!”

Around me, the guards exchanged glances. There was a glint of sadistic pleasure in their black eyes and I knew they were reveling in the displays of weakness in front of them.

The bitterness of the scene engulfed me, choking any flicker of hope that dared to surface.

Lucian, however, was unmoved. He took my chin in his long fingers and tilted my head up so I was forced to look into his cold eyes.

“Loyalty,” he said. “Is that what they showed to you, Avril?”

I knew what he wanted me to say.

But I couldn’t do it.

His thumb rubbed over my bottom lip.

Cold as ice.

“I can see it in your eyes,” he murmured. “The horrors they must have subjected you to—all to try and strike at me.”

“No—” one of the Necromi cried. “That’s not—”

“We only wished to serve you!” another member cried, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. “We will pledge our loyalty again—”

Words tumbled forward like a torrent.

Begging. Pleading. Groveling.

I shut my eyes and turned my face away from Lucian and from their misery.

Could I tell him not to punish them?

What would it do for the rebellion that had built among the tattered remnants of the Necromi?

“Why would you want to?” The grimoire’s voice was a needle in my mind. “What did they ask you to do?”

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t think of it.

How could I keep a secret from this dark presence?

“You can’t.”

Gently, Lucian released me from his embrace and I staggered back as he stepped away to face the Necromi who swayed on their knees in the trampled and muddy grass.

Their pleas were a rising wail that ebbed like a tide against my thoughts.

“Believe us! We meant her no harm!”

“Yes,” another one called out. “No harm at all—”

“Lucian, please—”

My breath hissed through my teeth as he raised his hands.

The silence that followed was deafening, and the red orb pulsed in a steady rhythm.

My stomach twisted and my throat was tight as I watched the scene unfold like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.

Lucian reveled in this control.

This dominance.

He had demanded my mother’s submission.

My submission.

And now theirs.

Did it mean anything to him?

With an eerie grace, he approached the first kneeling figure. The misty red smoke of his magic poured from the orb to coil around his fingers and the Council member’s eyes widened in horror, a flash of realization that was made ghoulish by the shadows created by the strange glow of Lucian’s magic.

In an instant, Lucian’s finger’s twitched and the red smoke clamped around the man’s throat.

The councilman’s gasp reverberated through the courtyard as Lucian raised his hand, drawing his prisoner off his knees to be suspended in the air in front of him. Lucian stepped closer and smiled as he whispered something into the man’s ear.

I couldn’t look away.

Even though I couldn’t hear what Lucian was saying, the grimoire seemed to know exactly what was happening. Its whispers were more like a steady rumble of a purring growl in my mind.

Sensual.

Animalistic.

Predatory.

Lucian’s magic swirled around the man as he writhed in its grip.

His feet kicked with no hope of touching the ground, and his fingers clawed at the smoke that held him captive.

But to no avail.

“Watch—” the grimoire hissed.

I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.

The dark magic enveloped the man and Lucian’s head fell back as his spell coursed through the Council member.

With terrifying ease, Lucian pulled life and power from the man like a bee pulls nectar from a flower.

The man’s eyes dulled and turned gray, and I staggered as a wave of energy cascaded from Lucian as he consumed the unfortunate man’s magic.

“Who is next?” Lucian’s voice echoed, commanding the guards to bring forth another soul.

I could hardly breathe as the next figure was dragged in front of Lucian.

They were shoved to the muddy ground, and I turned my head as they begged for mercy with a broken whimper.

Lucian didn’t linger over this one, and the lifeless body of the Necromi fell to the grass in an undignified heap. Their mask fell aside and a wicked shudder traveled up my spine as I recognized Clara’s sister.

“She deserved it,” the grimoire whispered. “She wanted you dead…”

I didn’t know what to believe.

Lucian moved through the survivors like a scythe through wheat.

As each life was extinguished, the heaviness within me intensified alongside the revulsion I held for Lucian.

The hollowness of the Council members’ words as they begged for their lives was sickening; their desperate pleas were utterly futile against the vast power of the sorcerer who stood before them.

I was drowning in a horror that twisted my insides, filled with despair as Lucian executed the remaining members one by one.

Methodical.

Detached.

The grimoire seemed to smile in my thoughts. “You should be enjoying this— This is your revenge.”

But it wasn’t— This was Lucian’s revenge.

Not mine.

A thought struck me like lightning.

I couldn’t just stand there as innocent lives were extinguished like candles snuffed in a violent wind.

As his guards dragged another victim forward, a low moan escaped my lips.

Before rationality could intervene, I rushed toward Lucian and grabbed his arm.

As he turned toward me in surprise, I pressed myself against him and wrapped my arms around his neck to drag his head down toward mine.

With my eyes shut tight, I kissed him fiercely, desperate to interrupt the violence he had unleashed.

Lucian’s body stiffened, and I tried to ignore the choked grunt of surprise that I was sure came from Bastian.

There was a moment, just a heartbeat, where I felt a fleeting glimmer of what I had believed to be compassion. It felt audacious, reckless—yet somehow, amid the swirling darkness, it held a semblance of power I never thought possible.

The cold tension in Lucian’s body slackened just a little as his arms wound around me.

At the moment our lips met, I held my breath and prayed my impulsive action would invoke a change.

I dared to open my eyes and realized that Lucian’s guards had paused mid-stride. Their captive sagged between them, but their sobs were soundless.

With a groan, Lucian pulled away from me.

His expression was twisted, and his surprise morphed into a mask of irate confusion—but unmistakable lust flickered in his icy eyes. But he didn’t look at me. He gripped my wrist tightly and flung me toward the guards who dropped their captive onto the grass.

I stumbled and almost fell, but a guard stepped forward to catch me.

His grip wasn’t gentle.

“Take her back to Withermarsh!” Lucian shouted.

Fuck.

I couldn’t even bring myself to look at my stepbrothers.

But I could feel the chill of Bastian’s glare as I was dragged toward the ruined entrance to the courtyard.

“Get the worms out of my sight,” Lucian roared.

The words echoed through the courtyard and I felt some small satisfaction that I’d saved the lives of the people who had kidnapped me— They had betrayed Lucian and tried to kill me… but did they deserve such a death at Lucian’s hands?

“Some might think so,” the grimoire whispered.

My jaw tightened, and I shut my eyes tight.

How had I ever missed the whispers of the dark presence in my mind?

I should have appreciated their absence while the keylines had muffled my magic.

“Would you really go back to what you were?” the grimoire hissed.

No.

The realization was instantaneous.

Even if I had the choice, I wouldn’t go back to what I was.

A few months ago, I couldn’t even light a candle without assistance…

“Why would you give this up?”

Perhaps that was the problem…

I was shoved into the back seat of a waiting SUV and the door slammed shut behind me.

I perched uncomfortably on the leather seats and then spun around to look out the back window at the courtyard.

The remaining Necromi—so few of them now—stood slowly to their feet while Bastian and Valen shouted at them. Bastian’s gestures were angry and sharp while Titus stood with Lucian, glaring at the scene.

One of the Necromi turned to look over their shoulder at the vehicle. Our eyes met, and a chill skittered across my skin.

He was the first to break eye-contact, and he turned back to the others who were being herded across the courtyard.

My breath fogged the glass as I watched the scene unfold.

Titus stood with Lucian, his magic a visible haze of icy green as it wrapped around his torso.

There was something dangerous in Titus’s expression as his dark eyes followed the Necromi who shuffled away.

Something I couldn’t quite read.

It was like watching carrion birds circling above a half-dead carcass.

They moved out of my line of sight as the vehicle pulled away from the fortress.

The driver was silent, and the cool interior was claustrophobic after the open sky of the courtyard.

I drew my knees up to my chest and hugged them tightly.

I missed my stepbrothers’ presence.

Even Bastian’s.

“He’ll never let you go,” the grimoire whispered.

No. He wouldn’t.

I knew that.

I could feel the vibration of the road beneath the wheels, the steady pulse of the engine as the vehicle sped away from the compound.

The driver took the turns fast enough to jostle me in the back seat and I winced as my bruised body slammed into the door.

But it didn’t matter. None of it did.

They had come for me.

They hadn’t abandoned me like the Necromi had promised they would.

I took a fierce relief in that knowledge.

“You belong to him,” the grimoire whispered. “But they belong to you.”

The road slipped past in a blur as we neared the highway.

Back to Withermarsh.

Back to the manor.

Back to my nightmare.

Would Lucian ever allow me to leave?

I knew that wasn’t possible.

Not now.

I was exhausted—everything that had happened. Everything I’d seen. Everything that had been done to me—

Everything I’d allowed to happen.

And from the confusion that came with it all.

The man I’d watched him kill.

The woman.

All of them.

His followers. His loyal cult.

They meant nothing to him.

My mother had meant nothing to him.

I didn’t want to think about it.

Not now.

Maybe never.

The mansion loomed above the road like a bird of prey, wreathed in dark clouds, and the lingering mist that clung to the gardens spilled over the cliff.

Passing through the ward was an unexpected comfort. I’d been outside it when I’d been taken from the woods… I remembered crossing it.

A sudden thought streaked through my mind.

Had the Necromi known I was going to escape through the trees?

If they hadn’t—how were they planning to breach the wards and enter the estate?

Had I been their plan from the beginning?

It seemed—

Pointless.

Their plan.

Nothing made sense.

Valen was the only one who had known.

Had he— he couldn’t have.

“Betrayer. Bastard betrayer,” the grimoire hissed.

“Stop it,” I muttered.

The grimoire’s presence writhed in my mind, but it stayed silent.

The driver maneuvered the SUV through the tall gates, gravel skittering, and slammed the brakes in front of the main entrance.

The sharp halt threw me against the seat, and I couldn’t suppress a yelp of pain as I clutched my tender ribs.

I didn’t wait for the driver to come around. I shoved the door open with a grunt and staggered to the ground.

The guard that had accompanied us was on me before I could run.

Not that I had the energy—or the will—to fight them.

But I was tired of being manhandled.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I snarled as I wrenched my arm out of their grip.

But his hand was like an iron cuff on my arms as he half-dragged me across the courtyard, up the stone steps, and through the massive front doors of the manor.

The cold emptiness of the entryway greeted me, and for a moment, I was suspended in time.

The faces of the Necromi flashed in my mind.

Clara’s sister—her dead pale eyes looked into my soul. Her mother’s scream of rage and pain…

I shook my head, but none of it went away.

The fear in the eyes of Lucian’s victims, the desperation in their voices—the finality of Lucian’s violent harvest.

My gut twisted, and I stumbled as bile rose in my throat.

“Where are you taking me?” I choked out.

“Master Lucian’s orders,” the guard growled.

My legs gave out, and I fell forward, but the guard jerked me back to my feet and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying out. I wanted to curse at him.

I wanted to lash out with my magic and blast him into a wall.

I wanted to be anywhere but here.

But all I could do was bite down harder on my cheek and swallow the tang of blood that washed over my tongue.

We stopped outside Lucian’s chambers and the guard shoved me through the door before I could retaliate.

I spun around, ready to scream, but he was already gone and the door slammed shut with the finality of a prison cell.

I was alone in the large room. Thick damask curtains covered the windows, but I knew they would be locked or sealed by wards and spells. It was useless to even try to open them.

I had seen this room in my nightmares. In the haunting visions that the grimoire had shown me.

I hated it.

I hated that my mother had been here—I hated that she and Lucian had fucked on the wide bed…

I was more afraid of what Lucian would do to me this time than I had been of the Necromi’s threats.

I sank to my knees on the deep carpet. Tears burned my eyes, but this time I didn’t wipe them away.

My misery and hopelessness came out in a sudden rush of gasps and tears.

“Pathetic,” the grimoire whispered, and I choked on my sobs.

“Fuck you,” I hissed.

“All this power—all this potential—and you sit here on your knees… crying instead of planning.”

Planning.

But I couldn’t escape.

Not now.

Not ever.

“Lying to yourself now—”

Was I?

“Easier to stay a prisoner.” The grimoire’s presence coiled in my mind and its words were dark and shimmered like oil. “But what of your promise—”

“I made no promises,” I muttered as I wiped at my cheeks.

“You can’t hide the truth for long,” the grimoire hissed. The smoothness of its words had taken on a dangerous edge. As though it was angry with me.

But that was impossible.

I struggled to my feet and pressed my palms against my hot cheeks.

Get your shit together.

Lucian will be back soon enough. I had to be ready.

My misery had faded to a dull ache, and the power in my veins had begun to heal the injuries I’d sustained.

The wedding was only days away…

But how many?

I didn’t know how long I’d been held captive—

No matter how much time had passed, I had a feeling that Lucian would be even more invested in my submission.

For my protection .

But the grimoire was right.

I had made a promise.

But could I actually go through with it?

And, more importantly— What would happen to me if I failed?