Page 27

It hadn’t worked.

Something was different—but I wasn’t sure what.

But the brand on my thigh throbbed gently in a rhythm that didn’t match my heartbeat, and the whispers in my mind had disappeared.

I felt alone.

Hollowed out and heavy at the same time.

The black lace of my wedding gown wrapped around me like a second skin, but I couldn’t admire the fine construction or the beauty of the beads and crystals that adorned it.

I felt like I’d been dressed for a sacrifice on a dark altar.

The gardens of Withermarsh had been transformed, and I looked down on them with muffled horror as memories of my mother’s wedding day came flooding back.

White flowers. Gauzy material draped over the serpentine hedgerows and topiaries.

Everything looked the same.

The same urns were in place. The same arch. Even the lanterns—those silken, ethereal ones that danced in the wind—were strung in identical fashion, their faint glow like bottled moonlight.

It was the same . Every inch.

My stomach twisted, and a chill seeped through my skin as a memory surfaced unbidden: my mother’s laughter, the hush of the guests, Lucian’s pale hand pressed to her back. That awful scene I’d witnessed during their first dance.

I gripped the velvet curtains tightly.

They hadn’t changed a thing.

Not the path. Not the flowers. The shadows would writhe beneath the arches like serpents at my feet and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Lucian wasn’t just repeating the past—he was re-staging it .

A second bride.

A second claim.

And this time, it was me.

I’d had a plan.

Hope— A faint hope that I could overpower Lucian, or at least weaken him enough to give the Black Council an opportunity to strike.

But now I wasn’t so sure.

As I stared out over the garden, a sudden jolt ran through me and my back arched.

My grip on the thick velvet curtain tightened and the metal rings rattled on the curtain rod.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out as the brand on my thigh burned with an intensity that made my vision blur at the edges.

“You’re not alone,” a voice murmured.

And as suddenly as it had gripped me, the pain dissipated and left me gasping, clinging to the curtain for support.

I whirled around, but the room was empty.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

My magic hummed in my veins, but it felt different—after the spell I had felt sluggish and heavy, but now…

I felt stronger.

Stranger.

“Hello?”

I frowned immediately. Why had I said that?

“You’re alone,” I muttered. “Don’t be stupid.”

But was I?

The spell— The Black Thread.

A willing possession.

But… it hadn’t worked.

Had it?

A sharp knock on the door made me jump back and my calves bumped against the window seat and toppled some of the boxes that had been re-stacked on the cushions. Gifts I didn’t want.

Tokens I despised.

“No—” I called out.

Was it already time?

I wasn’t ready.

I didn’t want—

But the door opened and two women entered the room. Uniformed servants I didn’t recognize. Always new faces. Silent wraiths that moved through the halls.

“Come with us, Miss Velez,” one woman said.

“I—”

There was no use in arguing.

I’d been dressed and ready for far too long.

My shoulders straightened as I walked across the room.

Suddenly, I stopped mid-stride.

“I need a moment.” The words were forced between my lips and the sensation of a robe slipping over my shoulders took hold of me. “Lucian won’t mind waiting just a moment longer.”

What— What was happening.

I tried to speak, but something stopped me.

A smile that wasn’t mine curved over my lips as the women exchanged glances.

“Wait outside,” I said. “I won’t be long.”

The women seemed reluctant to leave, but they did, and my confusion only intensified as I tried to make sense of what had happened. My body lurched forward, and I bit back a cry of surprise. I didn’t want to walk—what—

“Be calm,” a voice murmured in my ear.

“What—”

“You asked for my help—”

Panic gripped me.

It had worked.

The spell.

The possession.

“Who are you?” I whispered, but the words sounded so far away and a sensation of being pulled backward, wrapped in a blanket that bound my arms to my sides and my legs together. But not my physical body—but me—I found against it and my magic surged, but was quickly overpowered by something else. Something dark that rose and filled me from the soles of my feet to the top of my head.

The grimoire.

“What are you doing?” I tried to scream, but my voice was a whisper. Now I was the echo between thoughts.

But whose thoughts? Whose presence occupied my body?

“Trust me,” the entity said in my voice.

On unsteady legs, the new occupant of my body walked toward the vanity and braced its hands on the scarred wooden surface. The grimoire, an empty husk now, lay open, blank pages rustling in the breeze.

With a smooth motion, I pushed it off the vanity. It landed with a muffled thud and lay sprawled like a wounded bird on the hardwood floor.

Terror spiked through me, but there was nothing I could do.

“Just relax,” I murmured.

But it wasn’t me— Was I reassuring myself?

“Stop this!”

I looked into the mirror.

My face looked the same.

But there was something different in my eyes.

A change in the color? A change in the arch of my brow?

I couldn’t be sure.

But that wasn’t me staring back.

“What are you doing?” I moaned.

“What is necessary,” my reflection replied.

She plucked the blackened silver dagger from the vanity and pulled back the black lace sleeve of my gown to expose the scars that criss-crossed my wrist.

“No—” I whispered.

She drew the blade down my arm, and I braced myself for the sting of pain that never came.

The smile on her lips was cold as the blood flowed and dripped down onto the vanity.

My lips moved, but the voice that came out was strange. Not mine.

“Titus. Valen. Bastian,” she intoned, and I gasped as a surge of new magic swept over me. Magic that wasn’t mine, but somehow was… “By your cursed blood, your unfortunate births, your tainted name— I hold your limbs and bend you now.” She stared at the dull shine of the blood-smeared blade as she spoke, and I was mesmerized by the ruby droplets that traced down the cold metal. “Be still , be silent , be overthrown . You are bound, and you answer to me .”

The bitter words coursed through me and I strained against the bonds that muffled my awareness, but they held firm. Effortless.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, but the sound was muted even to my own ears.

The entity looked into the mirror—at me.

“So they don’t do anything stupid,” she said with a serene smile.

She held up her arm—my arm—and turned it gracefully. The wound was gone.

Healed so quickly I hadn’t even seen it happen.

“Now we’re ready,” she said.

“No— You can’t—”

“I can,” she replied as she pulled down the lace sleeve of the gown. With a smooth motion, she tucked the dagger into the lace at my hip, hiding it from sight, but I could feel the pressure of it against my hip. A soft smile curved my lips before she turned away from the vanity and my cursed reflection to walk toward the door.

I watched in helpless silence as she opened the door with a wave of her hand.

I felt the swell of magic, but nothing more.

As though I were floating in a pool of gently lapping water.

Weightless.

Powerless.

An observer in my own body.

“Stop this,” I shouted. But the whisper echoed back at me.

“I’m ready,” my voice said.

The women nodded in unison and turned toward the grand staircase.

My footsteps echoed as the entity followed the women down the steps. I strained against my invisible bonds and the magic that lapped at my skin. My heart thundered in my ears and drowned out the oppressive silence that enveloped me.

The unsettling scents of Withermarsh, damp earth and decay, filled my nostrils and mingled grotesquely with the heavy fragrance of dark roses arranged in ominous bouquets—exactly like the ones at my mother’s wedding.

My heart clenched at the memory.

How could he do this—

“The injustice,” the voice murmured in my ear. “I see it everywhere. Your revenge is justified— As is mine.”

The entity had gained more control now, and my steps were smoother, less stilted, as we walked through the foyer toward the grand ballroom.

The double doors were open wide and as I stepped into the room, the similarities between what I saw and what I remembered from the day Lucian had become my stepfather blurred together.

It was all the same. Even the way the shadows that danced across the walls were the same. The same candles in the wrought-iron chandeliers. The same urns filled with flowers. Everything was the same.

Only I was different.

In more ways than one.

The opulence was suffocating. Each gold-threaded curtain and glimmering piece of crystal was a reminder of what awaited me.

My eyes darted over the familiar decorations, and a shiver ran down my spine.

It was as if time had looped back on itself to ensnare me in a web of fate I could not escape.

“Not this time,” the voice breathed. “This time I’m here with you. This time you’re not alone.”

I took a breath, but it lodged itself in my throat.

I thought of my stepbrothers and the spell that had been cast just before we’d come down the stairs.

The spell pulsed through me like a heartbeat.

“Please let them be safe,” I murmured. There was no way to know what was going to happen now.

Every plan I’d made was gone—I could only hope that the dark entity that possessed me would do what it had promised.

“Don’t worry so loudly,” the voice murmured, and I could almost hear its smile. “Trust me.”

“You kidnapped me!” I shouted into the void. The echo was muffled.

“Willing possession,” it reminded me.

“Fuck!”

The click of a sharp tongue in admonishment was the only reply.

An enormous bouquet was pushed into my hands and my fingers curled around it. I could feel the soft texture of the velvet ribbon that bound the stems beneath my fingertips, but even that was muted and strange.

Music filled the air and people turned to stare as I was led to the aisle.

An image of Titus flashed through my mind: his fierce expressions, the way his strength overpowered and shielded me at the same time. And then Bastian, with his wild laughter and sharp humor… he saw everything. Would he be able to see that I was different? Valen lingered in my thoughts like an enigmatic shadow, and I longed to lose myself in his embrace.

Would they forgive me for this betrayal?

I couldn’t bear to think of their faces when they discovered what I’d done—

Lucian’s pale gaze burned into me as I approached the altar and my shoulders straightened.

“There he is,” the voice murmured. “So arrogant. So proud. He’ll never expect this—”

I struggled against the magic that washed over me in another gentle wave, but nothing happened.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” I hissed.

Soft laughter filled my ears. “As long as it takes.”

The Necromi Elder who would perform the marriage rite was familiar—the same one who had spoken the words at my mother’s wedding. His expression didn’t change as I came to a stop in front of Lucian.

There was no mistaking the hunger in his silvered eyes as they swept over me.

“Lovely,” he purred.

The mysterious orb that hovered over his shoulder pulsed with eerie crimson light while the mist around it swirled and spilled down to the floor, dissipating before it could touch the polished marble.

Revulsion coursed through me, but an anger that I didn’t recognize quickly overtook it. An anger that wasn’t mine.

Hot.

Bitter.

Sharp.

Powerful.

Lucian’s chin lifted as he dragged his gaze away from me. Disappointment tightened his mouth. “My sons are late, as usual,” he said, and his smooth voice sliced through the murmur of the assembled guests.

There was a glint of irritation in his pale eyes, a predator annoyed at the delay of its meal. “But we shall not waste any more time. The ceremony will begin without them.” He waved his hand dismissively, as if their absence were nothing but an afterthought.

A strange sense of calm swept over me with another gentle surge of magic as the entity stepped up to meet Lucian.

The Elder’s robes flowed like shadows across the floor as he approached.

The air shifted, charged with an energy that made my skin crawl. Lucian’s arm brushed against mine, but I barely felt it.

“Are you ready, my dear?” he murmured in a deceptively gentle tone. I couldn’t mistake the menace in his words.

The thinly veiled lust.

“The last time we stood in this room, among these guests, you became my stepdaughter,” he continued. “And now I will continue that protection with you as my bride.”

His words curled around me, tightening like a noose, and that unfamiliar rage swelled once more.

“And I am grateful,” the entity said in my voice.

“No!” I shouted uselessly.

My heart sank as the officiant began the incantations. His voice rose to fill the space, heavy with ancient power. Each word felt like a stone dropped into a well, rippling through me to crash against a stone wall.

The entity’s fingers, my fingers, gripped the bouquet tightly as dread coiled within me.

Even in my muffled state, I could sense the tension of the room. The strange energy of it.

“Be still,” Lucian murmured. His voice was low and commanding, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

The entity glanced up at him, and I sucked in a breath as his pale gaze fixed on me, unsettlingly calm.

Did he know?

Did he suspect?

“He knows nothing,” the voice hissed. “He sees nothing but himself and his own twisted desires. Be. Calm.”

As the officiant continued, my mind raced, desperate for an escape, but I was inescapably bound.

I had only wanted to protect Titus, Bastian, and Valen from witnessing this nightmare, but now I felt their absence like a phantom limb.

“Avril Velez,” the officiant called out. His voice echoed through the ballroom like a distant thunderclap. “Please join me in reciting your vows.”

“No, no, no,” I moaned.

But the words that came out of my mouth were spoken by the entity that possessed me.

Not me.

Her words were smooth and sure. Almost sensual.

I hated every single one.

An acolyte stepped forward, and a blade pressed against my collarbone. I felt the pressure, but not the sting of pain, as another gentle wash of magic swept through my consciousness.

“With this wound, I bare myself—” the entity spoke with my voice and I screamed soundlessly as they echoed. “To be seen, to be claimed, to be feared. Let my blood call to yours across shadow and flame, and let no power sever what we seal tonight.”

Lucian’s smile was grotesque as he extended his hand and the same acolyte pressed the ceremonial dagger against his palm.

“By the blood that binds and the name that commands, I offer dominion, desire, and dread,” he said in a voice that was filled with lust more than anything and I squirmed in the grip of the binding that held me, desperate to get away. “With this cut, I claim what is mine—”

“Never!” I screamed. “Never, never!”

“Calm, child,” the voice whispered in my ear. “Your time will come. This is necessary—”

The Elder took hold of Lucian’s wrist and guided his bloody hand to my shoulder. Wound to wound. Blood mingling. Binding.

My body arched as a flash of pain jolted through me and a cry tore from my lips.

Even the entity gasped.

“A potent joining,” the Elder announced proudly. “Let the world break before this bond is severed!”

The guests broke into rapturous applause that filled my ears and drowned out my screams.

Even though the dampening effect of the possession, I could feel the pull of Lucian’s magic as it coiled around me like a serpent ready to strike, claiming dominion over my will.

And then, as if summoned by my despair, thoughts of Titus, Valen, and Bastian flooded my mind—a bittersweet tide that rose to engulf me. A spell had been cast to keep them away— What if they sensed my pain through our bond?

What if they sought to intervene, unaware of the entity that had usurped control of my body?

The officiant lifted his hands and looked out over the crowd, but Lucian’s palm stayed sealed to the wound on my collarbone. His thumb rubbed over the pulse at the base of my throat as he stared into my eyes.

I could feel the pressure of his touch, but nothing more.

I was numb.

Shaking with anger and revulsion.

Just as the officiant prepared to deliver the final words—the heavy doors of the ballroom slammed open and sent a gust of cold air swirling into the ballroom like an angry spirit.

My heart jolted as I caught sight of my stepbrothers, fierce and wild-eyed, as they cut through the crowd.

Hope flared in my chest, but I could feel the entity’s irritation at their interruption.

“They’re stronger than you think,” I said with a smile.

“It makes no difference,” the entity murmured. “What’s done is done. They’ll still be feeling the effects of the binding… But even if they weren’t, there is no unmaking this.”

“Avril!” Titus’s voice was raw and his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. The sight of him made my chest ache—but there was nothing I could do. No comfort I could offer.

Lucian’s hand lifted from my skin, and the entity let out a gasp that escaped from my lips as another wave of magic swept through us. Through me.

A little of Lucian’s power—it was mine now.

“Get away from her!” Valen shouted as he stepped forward. There was a fire in his eyes, a primal instinct to shield me from the dark fate Lucian had crafted. But as they confronted their father, I knew it was pointless—they were too late.

“Foolish boys,” Lucian drawled in a casual tone that was edged with venom. He looked down at his blood-smeared palm and flexed his hand before he held it up to show the rapidly healing wound. “You really think you can storm in here and disrupt this celebration?”

“Celebration?” Bastian echoed, his tone incredulous as he stepped beside Valen, shoulders squared. “What you’ve done is madness! We won’t let you kill her—”

Lucian’s laughter rang out, cruel and cutting. It danced off the walls and, in an instant, it was echoed by the voices of the guests who joined him in his dark mirth. Did they even know why they were laughing?

“My dear sons,” Lucian said with a shake of his head. “I offer her power beyond your imaginations, and you dare to call this madness?”

With every word he spoke, I felt the chains of the wedding spell tighten around me, squeezing tighter with each breath.

My pulse quickened as I fought the urge to scream, caught between relief at their arrival and the gnawing fear that their defiance would lead them to ruin.

“She doesn’t belong to you,” Titus’s voice cracked with rage. His gaze burned with betrayal as he glared at Lucian, who responded with a chilling smile.

“Ah, but she already is.” Lucian’s pale eyes gleamed with triumph, and I could see the depths of his madness reflected back at me. “You should be grateful , truly! She will inherit a legacy far richer than any of you could ever comprehend.”

“Legacy?” Valen spat the word like poison. “Do you really think you can control her with this?”

“Control?” Lucian chuckled, and the sound reverberated in the air like a predator’s growl. “I have merely guided her to her rightful place. This power is what she deserves , what you all deserve. But alas, I cannot allow you to interfere. My disappointment in you is… unexpected.”

“Stop,” the entity said with my voice.

She was calm. Detached.

Sensual.

Commanding.

“You’re too late,” the entity said, and I recoiled as they moved us closer to Lucian and laid a hand on his arm.

“What are you doing ?” I screamed, even though I knew the sound meant nothing.

My stepbrothers stared back at me, their faces etched with fury, yet beneath that rage lay a dawning realization—their power was impotent now, stifled by the binding spell that had been cast over them. But the entity was right. Even if they had been at their full power they couldn’t have broken what had been sealed in blood.

My blood.

“Avril!” Valen’s voice was desperate. His deep blue eyes were full of—confusion.

No. Not confusion. Betrayal.

Anguish.

He stepped forward, brow furrowed, but the weight of Lucian’s magic held him back like a physical barrier. “What have you done?”

I could see the hesitation flicker in Titus’s stance, his fists clenched at his sides, trembling with the need to fight, and yet understanding the futility of it all.

“What is it you think you would be saving her from?” Lucian’s voice dripped with disdain. “She chose this destiny. She came to me willingly . As it must be. You’re simply too late.” He turned his pale gaze to me and his lips curled into a cruel smile that twisted my stomach into knots.

“Avril,” Bastian said. “Please, you don’t have to do this. We can find a way out—”

The entity shifted slightly, and as my shoulders straightened, my chin lifted.

“You’re too late,” the entity said with my voice. “The blood has been spilled.”

Tears stung my eyes and bathed my cheeks in hot shame. Meaningless. All of it. I’d asked them to trust me—but this wasn’t what I’d intended.

“Forgive me,” I sobbed. But they couldn’t hear me.

Valen’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me. Could he sense that something was wrong?

Lucian’s arm snaked around my waist and pulled me closer to him, and I gasped as another wave of magic swept through me. How long would it take before what was left of me washed away?

“ You’re far too dramatic,” the voice murmured in my ear. “You should relax— you don’t have to experience any of this if you don’t want to. Just… close your eyes.”

“No!” I shouted back. “I won’t!”

Satisfaction radiated off Lucian, intoxicating and suffocating at once. Even through the cushion of the possession, I could feel it.

It was a sickening reminder of the hold he had not just over me, but over everything I loved.

“My sons, join with our guests in welcoming my bride to the family—”

My stepbrothers turned their backs on their father, unwilling to be a part of this grotesque display.

But Lucian didn’t seem to care about the insult. Applause and cheers rose around us again as he took hold of my hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss was cold, and lingered uncomfortably.

“Today marks a new era,” Lucian declared to the gathered crowd. Their collective gaze pierced through me and I would have been a fool to ignore the judgement I saw there. “I present to you—Avril Romano, heir of Withermarsh!”

His words wrapped around me like chains.

Stunned, I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t speak.

Even the entity seemed surprised, and she stared straight ahead as my vision blurred.

Tears?

“Don’t you dare cry!” I croaked. “Don’t you dare !”

“This was what I should have had,” the voice said in a dark whisper. “It’s not his to give. This was mine — it has always been mine .”

Confusion rippled through me as the magic surged again.

A cold creeping sensation that coiled around me.

It was Lucian’s power, and it pulled me toward him until my body was inexorably drawn into his dark embrace.

“Come here, my sweet Avril,” he whispered, and a predatory gleam lit up his pale eyes as he leaned closer. The scent of damp earth and decaying roses filled the space between us, and bile rose in my throat.

I closed my eyes tight as his lips met mine in an icy kiss—a sealing of our terrible pact.

The world blurred around me, lost in the intoxicating chaos of his magic, and I screamed even though my throat was raw and I was hollowed out by grief and helpless shame.

I didn’t feel the pressure of the kiss as it broke, just the absence of the coldness that had accompanied his possessive kiss.

“Now, we must make it official,” Lucian said. He stepped back with a self-satisfied smirk on his angular face and turned his attention to an ornate table draped in black velvet. A scroll hung with velvet ribbons and official seals lay in wait.

A contract.

With a flourish, he signed his name with deliberate strokes.

“Your turn, my dear wife,” he beckoned and motioned to the quill laid out for me.

The feather glimmered ominously under the dim light, the ink at the tip looked like blood.

Was I imagining it? Did it matter?

My hands trembled for only a moment until the entity regained its composure as my hand reached out for it.

“Isn’t this what you wished for?” the voice asked. “Power— Freedom—”

“Then why does it feel like a trap?” I cried.

It pressed the tip of the quill against the contract and signed my name with fluid grace. The ink flowed and sealed my fate in more ways than one.

As I finished and set the quill down, I glanced at Lucian’s satisfied smile, his triumph clearly written on his terrifyingly handsome face.

“Welcome to your new life, Avril.” His tone was full of tenderness that felt like mockery, and I forced myself to remember that he had groomed me for this moment—that he had watched my progression through Messana Academy. That he was the one who had chosen me—that he had selected me for this. That he had manipulated my mother and then murdered her when she no longer served his purposes… only so he could possess me.

And now he had done it.

His hand enfolded mine as the echo of applause filled my ears.

I was a prisoner in my own body—helpless to fight the darkness that threatened to swallow me whole.

“Come! My friends! Let us celebrate this joyous union!” Lucian cried.

The entity’s presence was grim and silent as it wrapped around me.

Shielding me from everything.

The noise faded away, but I wanted to see— I wanted to know what was happening.

“No— No, I need to see— You can’t!”

“Hush, child. Perhaps you do not wish to see. You will thank me later.”

I struggled again and felt the flare of my magic as I pushed against the entity’s control. But it wasn’t enough.

“Hush,” the voice soothed. “Soon. You’ll see.”

The tears came again, angry, impotent tears, and the entity wrapped me in darkness as it laid my hand on Lucian’s arm and took control.