Page 28

The night air was thick with the scent of incense and something acrid. I spat on the grass to get the taste out of my mouth.

“Can you believe she put a fucking binding spell on us?” Bastian snarled. “This goddamn blood bond keeps us from betraying her, but doesn’t mean she can’t betray us. Can you fucking believe it?!”

Laughter rang out, hollow and shimmering, but it felt far away, muffled by the dense embrace of the garden.

We’d waited too long—

How had we been so blind?

“ This is what she told us to trust her for?” Bastian cried. He gestured wildly at the wedding festivities just beyond the edge of the shadows.

When we’d been able to break free of our stupor and made our way to the ballroom, I’d half-expected Lucian to strike at us the moment we stepped into the room. But he’d surprised me with his indifference.

Maybe that was the point.

The insult of his dismissal.

How had she been able to bind us so completely?

I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

I stole a glance at Valen—he was quiet. He hadn’t said a single thing since the laughter of Lucian’s sycophants had forced us out of the ballroom.

Those rats wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy their victory. I had no doubt of that.

Bastian swore and then fell silent.

I could sense Valen’s anger, too. But it was different than before. Not the angry outbursts I was used to—or even the long silences that usually followed.

This was something else.

“Fuck,” Bastian exclaimed. He dragged a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I still feel like shit— Like I’m underwater.” He paused for a moment and then glared at the light and movement of the wedding reception just beyond the shadows. “I need a drink. Or ten.”

“We need a plan,” I said. My voice was flat.

A sudden burst of laughter came from Valen, and I turned to look at him.

“What?”

“ Another plan?” he choked out. “Because your last one worked so well?”

My jaw tightened. “I need to think.”

“Think about what ?” Bastian demanded. “She betrayed us!”

“I don’t think—”

“I do,” Valen interrupted. “How much longer are you going to wait? Until she’s dead ?”

I glared back at him. “It’s too early for that. He’ll want to keep her alive long enough to make sure she’s pregnant.”

Bastian let out a wild cry. “That’s not going to happen! I won’t let it—”

“Oh, really?” Valen interrupted again. “And how are you going to do that, exactly? Burst into the honeymoon suite and beg our father not to fuck her?”

A bitterness I’d never heard from him before sharpened his voice.

“This isn’t helping,” I snarled. We were getting nowhere.

“You stood right beside me in that fucking ballroom!” Bastian shouted. “She signed the fucking contract! And now she’s the heir to this damned estate—she’s done with us!”

“That’s not what it means,” I said.

Valen laughed again. A harsh sound. A cruel sound.

“She’s afraid,” I said. “I saw it in her eyes.”

“She’s playing us,” Bastian snarled.

My fists clenched. It couldn’t be true. I refused to believe it. “It’s not what you think.”

It couldn’t be.

“Isn’t it?” Valen’s voice was icy. “She wanted us to believe she needed us,” he continued. “But now she’s got what she really wanted—her place with Lucian.”

Anger flared in my chest and I struggled to keep my voice calm. “You know that’s the last thing she wanted,” I said through gritted teeth. “She cast that binding spell to keep us away.”

Bastian laughed bitterly. “She certainly succeeded. We got there just in time to see it all wrapped up in a nice little unbreakable bow.”

Valen crossed his arms over his chest and turned to stare at the guests while they smiled and congratulated Lucian on his new bride.

As if they hadn’t all been sitting in this garden a few months ago for his marriage to Avril’s mother.

As if they hadn’t stood aside while Lucian murdered their friends and family for their perceived betrayals.

And here they were… laughing. Drinking. Dancing.

“Assholes,” Valen muttered.

“You know Lucian would have killed us if we’d interrupted the ceremony sooner.” I said.

Valen didn’t turn. “I know.”

“Maybe she wanted it,” Bastian said. “Wanted all of this.” He gestured at the garden. “Told you not to trust her.”

“Don’t be stupid,” I snarled. “She wants us. She doesn’t know what Lucian is capable of—or what he’s planning. We have to tell her.”

Bastian snorted. “You tell her.”

“I will.”

Lucian’s laughter rang in my ears.

So pleased. So smug as he spoke with the Elder who had performed the ceremony that had tied Avril’s life to his.

Her soul.

Avril wasn’t with him. She stood at the edge of the banquet tables and watched the dancers that swirled by.

I could admit now, away from the ballroom and the wedding, that her dark beauty stole my breath away—the black lace gown fitted her so perfectly it could have been painted on her sweet curves. The jet black beads and crystals glittered in the lantern light as she shifted her weight and tilted her head to look up at the stars that peeped through the clouds.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Hey— Where are you going?” Bastian called after me.

I didn’t turn.

I didn’t have to explain myself to them.

“Bring back some whiskey—” Bastian shouted.

All I could see was Avril.

I didn’t break stride as I ducked under the silken lanterns that lit the wedding terrace where the head table sat and where the makeshift dance floor had been set up between the dark flowers.

Avril turned and saw me stomping toward her.

Her expression gave me a flicker of hope—

But then she started to back away, and my jaw clenched.

No fucking way.

She wasn’t going to run from me. Not now.

My power was still muted, but I was running on pure adrenaline and rage as I closed the distance between us.

Her eyes widened as I approached, but I moved too quickly for her to get away. She glanced toward Lucian.

Was she afraid of him—or of me?

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the darkened edge of the path.

“Titus, I—”

“You what?” I demanded. My grip tightened. My pulse quickened as I stared into her eyes.

Something was different about them.

They seemed darker, more intense.

“I told you to trust me,” she said. Her voice was breathless, and I couldn’t tell if it was fear—or something else.

“Trust you?” I snarled. “After what you just did? After you put a fucking binding spell on us?”

“You don’t understand—”

“Then explain it to me.” I growled. “I’m dying to know how you’d like to justify that little stunt.”

She winced and stiffened in my hold, but I wasn’t letting her go.

Not yet.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she whispered. I could see the struggle in her eyes, the shift in her expression—were her eyes different? I couldn’t be sure in the lantern light. “I did it to protect you.”

“Protect us?” My voice was sharp with disbelief. “We don’t need your help—”

“Lucian would have killed you,” she said.

I didn’t believe her.

Not yet.

“Why didn’t you let us stop the wedding? Why did you go through with it?”

Her eyes flicked back to mine. “I had to do it—”

“Bullshit.” My fingers tightened. “We could have helped you. We could have taken him down.”

“In front of all his loyalists? They would have killed you!” she said. Her voice was harsh, but I couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear. “I know you don’t believe me, but I have a plan—”

“A plan?” I said savagely. “This isn’t a fucking plan. You’re playing us— You intended to do this all along. Revenge—”

“No!” Her voice was small. “I’m not— I swear I’m not.”

“Then why did you go through with it? The contract. Everything!”

The question seemed to surprise her.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

I grabbed her wrist again and pulled her closer. “Tell me.”

“You have to trust me,” she replied. She was calm now, her expression smooth and serene. I had expected to see fear in her eyes—but it wasn’t there.

I wasn’t sure what I saw.

“Do you even know what Lucian’s plans are? What he wants?” My voice dropped to a low growl.

I didn’t wait for her to respond.

“He wants you pregnant,” I continued. “And once he has that child, he’ll kill you and take your power… just like he did to your mother. Just like he does to all the women in his life.”

I expected her to look shocked.

Terrified.

I expected her to cry.

But she didn’t.

“Just like your mother,” she said.

The calmness of her voice made my skin crawl. I wasn’t sure if it was her voice.

Her lips twisted, a small unsettling smile.

Not the smile of someone who was afraid.

I stared into her eyes.

They were darker. Definitely darker.

“Trust me,” she said. “You’ll understand—”

I heard the faintest glimmer of laughter in her voice, and it was more than I could take. My grip tightened and what Bastian had said—what he’d learned from Lucian’s disgusting advisor—rang in my ears. His plans were inescapable.

Not just for her. But for all of us.

I shoved her away from me as my frustration boiled over.

“There’s nothing to understand,” I snapped. “You’ve fucked us all, Avril.”

She stumbled back with a gasp, but she didn’t fall. Her foot caught on the hem of her gown and she steadied herself by grabbing hold of the banquet table.

“I told you—” she started.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

Lucian’s laughter was suddenly loud in the air. I turned slightly and straightened my back as my father approached us.

“May I steal my bride away for a dance?” His words are smooth as he extends his hand to her.

Avril doesn’t look at me as a smile curves over her darkly painted lips and she steps away from me and lets him take her arm.

Her willingness wounds me more than his cruel laughter.

Lucian’s pale eyes met mine, but only briefly, and he smiled as he pulled her closer.

As he claimed her for his own.

I turned away from them before my fury got the best of me and I did something I’d regret.

I stormed back toward my brothers with the sound of the celebrations echoing in my ears.

To hell with her.

To hell with all of this.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the edge of a makeshift bar I passed and ignored the servant’s surprised shout.

I was a fool to think Avril cared for anything more than her own survival.

The words she’d said cut deeper than I wanted to admit, and I felt Valen and Bastian’s eyes on me as I made my way back to the edge of the shadows.

This blood bond, this fucked situation—

There had to be a way out.

There had to be a way to break it.

But how long? How long would it take?

“Did you make it worse?” Valen asked.

I glared at him.

“Did you get the whiskey?” Bastian called out as he emerged from the trees. He zipped his fly as he strode over to us and grinned as his eyes fell on the bottle in my hand.

“I told her about Lucian’s plans,” I said and glared at my brother as he snatched the bottle from my hand and removed the cork with his teeth.

“Let me guess,” Bastian said as he spat the cork into the dark. “She already knew.”

I nodded. “She doesn’t care,” I said. “She doesn’t—”

The words caught in my throat.

But if she didn’t care— What did any of it matter?

I didn’t know anymore.

Nothing made sense.

Avril’s indifference had left me shaken.

The way she carried herself, the steadiness in her voice—that wasn’t her.

I found them amid the dancers, moving together with a fluid grace that made my stomach churn.

“Where’s he going?” Bastian asked.

I looked back at him in confusion. “What?”

Bastian points with the whiskey bottle.

Valen— He moved through the shadows at the edge of the celebrations like a wraith. He’s focused on the ornate table where the bride and groom enjoyed their luxurious supper and accepted the cheers and hollow adulation of their guests.

He moved with certainty, already reaching into his coat.

No one notices his quick hands, and my breath catches with each careful step.

How can they not see what’s happening?

Bastian came to stand beside me and we watched him as he uncorked the vial of silvered liquid and poured it into the flask of dark wine beside Lucian’s goblet.

“Valen knows how to make a good poison,” Bastian said before he took another swig.

“Give me that,” I growled and grabbed the bottle out of his hand.

“Hey!”

I drank deep as my gaze moved back to Avril and Lucian. They held each other with a terrible intimacy that made me want to break things. “That better work—”

“It will,” Bastian said.

They danced so smoothly it looked like they were floating, and I thought of the way she’d pulled back from me.

From us.

Something wasn’t right.

“Fuck this,” I snapped, but my voice was hollow.

The whiskey burned as I swallowed it down, and I welcomed the pain of it.

Anything to make me feel.

My pulse pounded in my ears, and Avril’s calm expression haunted my mind.

“Would serve her right if she’s the one who ends up poisoned,” Bastian muttered.

“Wouldn’t it?” I said, but I didn’t mean it. Not really.

Bastian didn’t either.

“Are you two going to stand there all night?” Valen’s voice came from behind us. He was already moving toward the garden entrance, eyes fixed on the path that would take us back to our own fucking lives. “Let’s get the hell out of here—”

“What a bunch of bullshit,” Bastian grumbled as he took the bottle again.

I didn’t reply.

I couldn’t.

“Are you coming?” Bastian asked.

“I’m going to watch,” I said.

Bastian chuckled. “Watch what?”

“Lucian. I want to see him fucking drink it.”

Bastian let out a long breath. “Well, give us the play-by-play when you’re done.”

My brothers melted away into the darkness and I wished I’d kept the whiskey.

The musicians came to the final bars of the song and applause rippled across the garden like water over sand as Lucian bowed to his supporters.

With dramatic flair, Lucian led Avril from the throng of dancers to the table where his wine awaited him.

He lifted the carafe and re-filled his goblet before pouring the rich liquid into Avril’s cut crystal glass. It splashed onto the linen tablecloth, staining it with dark blooms.

Lucian waited for the guests to fall silent before he lifted his glass. The dark liquid seemed to slosh in time with my heartbeat. He waited—dramatic to the last.

He draws it out.

A predator savoring the taste of his victory.

He brought the glass to his lips, drank deeply, and then raised it again.

“A toast!” he cried. “To my beautiful bride—once my stepdaughter, now taking her rightful place at my side.”

Avril’s smile speared into my guts.

“May she have the wisdom and strength that my sons seem to lack.”

Laughter. More laughter.

It echoed through the garden.

Lucian handed her the glass of wine he had poured, and he turned to the crowd once more.

Avril turns with him, but her eyes are on me, and they burn into mine from across the garden and it’s almost enough to make me forget the ache she’s caused.

Almost.

“My loyal friends,” Lucian said in a voice that reverberated through the darkness, “join me in raising a toast to Avril Romano.”

He paused again.

Dramatic bastard.

“Heir of Withermarsh!”

The words are thick and ugly in my ears.

“Heir of Withermarsh!” the crowd shouted.

I flicked my eyes to the table, to the wine Lucian drank.

I knew she could see me.

Her gaze slides to the goblet in her hands and back to me.

Poison.

I try to force the thought into her mind.

But the remnants of her binding spell still muffled my magic— I have to hope that she knows not to drink it.

Her chin lifted, and she raised her glass with a smile on her lips.

Don’t drink it.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

Every other sound was lost in the din of the enthusiastic cheers of his sycophants.

He tipped his head back and drained his glass.

I held my breath as I watched the poisoned wine go down his throat.

Tight anticipation clenched my muscles and I could feel the pulse of my blood—the pulse of the bind—stretching tight.

Avril brought the glass to her mouth, her eyes on me as she did.

My hands clenched.

Would she drink it, knowing?

Lucian set his glass down in front of her and leaned in close. His lips moved but I couldn’t hear his words over the sound of the garden party.

The smug bastard.

Her expression changed as he whispered, and she pulled the glass away from her lips without drinking.

Good.

Her full lips parted, and she said something back to him.

It looked like—

It looked like she was laughing. Enjoying his company.

I bit back a curse as she placed her glass on the table with a calm smile.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press her to drink.

A ripple of something I couldn’t identify passed through me as I watched her pick up the flask of wine and pour him another glass.

A strange sensation.

Like relief.

Lucian motioned to the musicians, and they began to play again as he grabbed Avril’s hand and pulled her back to the dancers.

Her eyes found me in the shadows, and I backed away and turned toward the path that my brothers had taken.

She wanted us to trust her.

But how could I after everything that had happened?

If it had just been the binding spell, I could have forgiven her.

But it wasn’t just that.

Part of me wanted to rush into the garden, throw her over my shoulder, and kill anyone who came close to me.

The other half… wanted her to suffer.