Page 5

Alone again.

Always alone.

Not always.

The grimoire’s presence curled in my mind like a serpent.

A centipede that skittered over and around my thoughts with a hundred sharp legs.

I gripped the bannister and took another step.

The house was quiet, but the rattle of the wind and rain that pelted the roof accompanied my steps.

I couldn’t stay in my room any longer.

Pacing. Always pacing.

Plotting.

My stepbrothers were away—doing Lucian’s dark bidding.

Always away.

“They don’t care about you.”

“They want you to suffer.”

“When Lucian has you—they’ll abandon you.”

The grimoire’s rattle echoed in my mind.

“Shut up,” I muttered and took another step.

But the monster in my mind wouldn’t be silenced. It slithered closer, wrapping around my thoughts, squeezing tighter with each beat of my heart.

Keep going.

The idea had bloomed in my mind in the early hours of the morning.

Whatever Lucian was planning—I needed to know.

I needed to know something.

I was tired of just existing in this tomb house, haunted by shadows and memories that I couldn’t escape. This wasn’t living. It wasn’t even survival. If I didn’t do something , I was going to lose my mind.

It was well past midnight, and the hallways seemed narrower in the darkness.

Only a few lanterns were lit, and their flickering light didn’t travel far beyond the stone alcoves.

Quaint.

Romantic.

Idiotic thoughts I might have had when I’d first arrived here.

Now I knew that everything in this house worked against me.

The silent servants. The shadows.

They all did Lucian’s bidding. They were all watching me on his behalf.

I passed the library where my stepbrothers usually brooded—plotting and scheming—but the room was dark and the fireplace was cold.

I’d heard their motorcycles roar away from the mansion hours ago… they hadn’t spoken to me for days.

I could sense them through our blood bond—but I didn’t know what they were thinking, or what they were planning.

The grimoire had shown me ways that I could check on them—do some spying of my own—but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Why was the hallway so long?

Every inch I traveled seemed to be achieved in slow motion, and my heart thudded painfully in my throat as I dragged my fingers along the stone wall.

Lucian’s study doors loomed in front of me, impossibly tall.

And probably locked.

I paused in front of the doors and laid my hands against it.

The wood was cool under my palms and I could feel the vibration of his wards and the dark magic that protected the room.

How was I supposed to get past this?

I leaned closer, breath catching as I felt the pulse of energy that thrummed through the thick wood. It was unnerving, but intoxicating. The grimoire whispered again, its voice a seductive hiss that coiled around my thoughts.

“Take what you want.”

I could almost see Lucian’s pale eyes narrow with delight at my hesitation, the shadow of his predator’s smile hovering just out of reach. Anger flared inside me suddenly and I straightened and focused on the wards—they shimmered with malice and the grimoire’s whispers rose sharply. It recognized this power.

And these symbols.

Lucian had crafted them with the grimoire’s help.

Just as I had done with the runes and sigils that protected my doorway.

There had to be a way—an opportunity hidden in the dark tendrils of Lucian’s magic. I pressed my palm against the wood again, and focused on the vibrations beneath my fingertips. I stepped closer and laid my cheek against the door.

“This binding fades, its strength I steal.”

The words stole into my mind and my eyes drifted closed as I murmured them aloud without hesitation.

My left hand moved of its own accord and my fingertip traced a sigil upon the dark wood of the door as the spell tumbled from my lips.

The wards trembled under my touch as shadows bent and twisted around me.

The door shuddered underneath my touch and a gust of wind—cold, biting—swept past me. The grimoire’s voice thrummed in my mind, its rhythm aligning with my heartbeat.

“Open,” I demanded, and the word slipped from my tongue like a hiss.

The sigil I had traced glowed briefly beneath my fingertips before fading back into the wood, and then, as if it were responding to my will—the heavy door creaked open. Darkness poured from the room like spilled ink and caressed my skin with chilling tendrils.

The only light in the room was the red orb that always hovered over his shoulder.

I didn’t know what powered it, but it glowed and pulsed with a soft red light and a delicate thread of pale mist swirled around it.

The softness of the light was unnerving, and it illuminated Lucian’s desk with a strange glow.

I raised my hand and the candles scattered through the room flared to life and brought some warmth to the space.

Not much.

Lucian’s study was a chaotic masterpiece. Leather-bound books were stacked precariously on every surface; each one was filled with forbidden knowledge and my fingers itched to touch them… but the grimoire hissed in my mind.

Jealous.

Everything I needed was within its pages.

Revealed by my blood.

I kept my eyes averted from the portrait of the captive souls—I knew it was there. That was enough. I didn’t need to see their twisted faces to feel their agony.

The whispers from the grimoire danced in my ears—a haunting melody urging me toward his secrets.

“Find what you seek,” it hissed.

The red orb that hovered over Lucian’s desk pulsed again and grew brighter as I drew closer.

The throb of its light was steady, as though it were mirroring something.

Or someone .

The soft scent of old parchment curled in the corners of the room, and I held my breath as I rushed back to the door to push it closed behind me.

The latch clicked into place and I briefly contemplated laying the wards again—but I didn’t have time.

The large mahogany desk loomed in front of me, its dark surface polished to a sinister sheen. I hesitated for a moment, then, with a deep breath, I strode forward with a singular purpose.

I worked quickly, touching every surface as my fingers searched with delicate precision for hidden compartments and hidden drawers that the press of a concealed button could reveal. The red orb pulsed, and the mist swirled around it.

Was it watching me?

Don’t think about it.

My hands shook as I fumbled around, looking for anything new— The folders with the information about me that Lucian had been collecting since I had first started classes at Messana Academy were in an obvious drawer, and a bitter taste flooded my mouth as I flipped through the familiar documents.

There was nothing else.

No false bottom in the drawer.

No secret compartments.

I was a fool—what was I looking for?

Evidence? But evidence of what?

Why would Lucian keep anything here ?

If he was keeping secrets from his sons, why would he leave it where they might find it?

I sat back on my heels and glared up at the pulsing red orb.

“Fuck you,” I muttered.

I picked up the folders and papers and pushed them back into the drawer, but the sight of my name on one of the pages made me pause.

He shouldn’t get to keep these.

I wouldn’t allow it—not this time.

I gathered the folders into my arms and struggled to stand. My steps were unsteady as I moved toward the fireplace. It was cold and dark, but I dropped to my knees in front of it. The stained parchment spilled over the floor as I dropped the folders and focused on the fire.

The logs were blackened, but not fully burnt, and I pushed my hands toward them and closed my eyes. There was still heat in the logs—hidden embers—and I reached out with my magic to urge them back to life the same way I had with the candles.

Candles were simple.

At least they were now.

I barely remembered a time when I’d struggled to light them.

Only a few months ago, lighting a fire with my magic would have been out of the question.

But here I was.

A smile tugged at my lips as the warmth of the fledgling flames licked at my palms.

I hesitated only for a moment before I pulled my hands out of the fire and began to feed the documents to the fire, one by one. Each sheet blackened and curled, consumed by the hungry blaze. It was an insignificant victory, but a victory nonetheless, and I savored the sight of the documents being reduced to ash.

With every paper that burned, the chains around my spirit loosened. The magic I’d stolen—from my stepbrothers, from Clara—coursed through my veins with a forbidden energy.

I was a thief… a murderer.

But it was the first time I had felt this way since I’d been dragged into this house—a fleeting sense of empowerment, a glimpse of what life could be without Lucian’s shadow looming over me.

The last of the papers crumbled to nothing, leaving only embers behind that faded into gray flakes that disappeared into powder when I dared to brush them with my fingertips. I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction.

This was symbolic—nothing more.

But it was my victory.

My own tiny act of rebellion.

Lucian didn’t own me.

How had I never noticed his presence in my life?

How had I not known?

I threw another piece of paper into the flames.

My graduating grades—at least, they should have been. But I hadn’t graduated.

Not really.

Not properly.

I lifted another sheet of paper.

She plans to study at the Sages University. Despite her pale magic, and although I have attempted to discourage her, she seems determined to go through with her applications. The Sages who have served as her instructors have voiced their support for her application… they seem to believe that she could be an asset to their outreach programs. Perhaps as an inoffensive member of their cross-border programs with some of our less talented neighbors…

The signature on the letter was familiar.

Messana Academy’s headmaster.

My blood froze in my veins and something twisted in my spine.

If I’d finished my applications… I would have been accepted.

I would have been accepted.

But, instead—

Instead, my mother had been engaged to Lucian Romano. She had torn me away from Messana Academy.

And now she was dead… and I was engaged to Lucian Romano.

My hands shook with rage and hot tears streamed down my cheeks before I could take a breath—

How could—

Had this been his plan all along?

I would have been free…

In my mind, the grimoire’s whispers sharpened. As though it was jealous of the life I could have had—I would never have opened or spilled my blood on its cursed pages. I would never have known it existed.

I would never have met—

The red orb that floated above Lucian’s desk pulsed brighter, and the mist that swirled around it suddenly changed direction.

Shit.

I barely had time to scramble to my feet before the door swung open, drawing all the air with it.

He stood there, a dark eclipse that blotted out my fleeting victory.

I reeled back, but his gaze caught me, pinned me, unraveled every moment of defiance I’d clung to.

I was out of time, out of luck, out of my mind to think I could escape.

The papers I’d taken from the drawer were scattered around my feet and the fire flickered low in the hearth, as though it was ashamed to have helped me.

Everything I’d done seemed childish now.

Pointless.

Lucian’s hold on me couldn’t be severed so easily.

My cheeks were stiff with dried tears and fear clutched at my heart as Lucian stared at me. He said nothing as he entered the room and I flinched as the door swung with an ominous finality that echoed in my ears.

His eyes were pale and predatory as they followed my every movement.

I felt naked under his scrutiny, a pitiful thing laid bare before his knowing smirk.

I’d been there before—sprawled on the floor in front of his desk.

Shame and desperation clawed at me and urged me to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there under his terrible, knowing gaze.

I turned, frantic for an escape, but there was nothing—only a stained glass window I couldn’t reach.

“Well, I didn’t expect to find you here.”

I dared to turn and face him, but my body trembled with fear.

What would he do to me—

“I—”

The sorcerer’s long fingers twitched at his sides, and my eyes were drawn to the pulse of the red orb that hovered above Lucian’s desk.

The mist that had swirled around it, seemed to flicker with tiny bolts of lightning. The mist expanded and crept down over the desk with feathered fingers that reached toward me.

I held my breath as the mist slithered across the floor and curled around my bare feet like a dark tide, ready to consume me whole. I forced myself to stand tall despite the trembling in my knees and I fought to summon even a fraction of the bravado I had possessed only moments before.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lucian said. “But I think you know that… Tell me, Avril. Why have I found you in my study this evening? So many hours after midnight?”

I swallowed hard. “I— I came to—”

“To what?” Lucian interrupted. His voice was smooth but dripped with menace. His pale eyes glittered with dark amusement as they studied me. “To burn away the evidence? But what evidence is it? Evidence of my… interest in your education?”

“Interest?” I choked out. “You— You stole my life from me… everything that I could have been—”

The pale red mist coiled around my ankles and wound up my calves, but I stayed as still as I could even though I wanted to kick it away. Lucian didn’t flinch, and his smile didn’t falter as he stepped closer.

“And what could you have been?” he asked. “Hm? What were the words your headmaster used—” He paused for a moment, but I knew he was toying with me. “Ah, yes. An ‘inoffensive’ member of the outreach programs—” He frowned slightly. “Hardly the place for someone like you.”

“Someone like me,” I repeated. “What does that mean?”

The mist darkened as it coiled around my waist and crept up over my breasts, a chilled caress that made my breath hiss between my teeth. For a wild moment thought he might explain what he meant. But he said nothing and only watched as I strained against the crimson haze that had pinned my arms to my sides.

I glared at him, mute with anger and fear. Beneath his gaze, I felt the grimoire’s whispers coil and tighten in my mind like a noose.

He drew closer, and I tried to take a step back, but the mist didn’t let me. It had wrapped around me completely, and fingertips of vapor tightened around my body like possessive hands.

Lucian laughed—a low sound that sent ice through my veins. “Look at you.” He motioned to the scattered documents on the floor and the dying ashes in the hearth. “I wondered if taking that girl’s power would make you restless—and with all the time you’ve spent with the grimoire… Did I make a mistake in giving you this power?”

“Giving?” I gasped. “You didn’t give me anything. You took my life, and you—”

“And yet here you are,” he cut in, drawing closer still. His presence was suffocating in the dim room and the flames of the candles seemed to dip toward him as he moved. “Imagine what your precious Sages would say about your power now—”

The mist wound tighter around my chest, each loop squeezing the fight from my lungs. The grimoire’s whispers throbbed in my mind like a second heartbeat, and every pulse pushed my anger closer to the surface.

“I didn’t ask for this— I don’t want it!” I cried.

“Oh?” His eyes narrowed with interest, as though curious to see how long the fragile creature before him would resist. “And what is it you want then, Avril?”

With a flick of his wrist, my feet left the floor, and the mist lifted me into the air until I hovered at eye level with him. I let out a gasp as Lucian stepped closer and dragged a long finger down the line of my jaw.

“Freedom.” The words were raw from my throat, almost a sob.

“Freedom,” he mused, rolling the word on his tongue as if tasting it. He leaned closer, and his lips were close enough to brush against mine. I closed my eyes tight and turned my face away. “So dramatic.”

The dark strands of vapor coiled across my ribs, tighter than before, and choked back any defiant words I might have yelled at him.

“What if I refuse to let you go?” he murmured.

I wrestled against him as rage and desperation flared through me in equal measure. “I—”

I knew what I wanted to say.

I wanted to tell him that I would destroy him for what he’d done to me. I wanted to tell him that his sons would help me do it.

I wanted him to know how much I wanted to see him crawling on the ground at my feet as his blood spilled over the stones in the courtyard, or how I wanted to watch it soak into the dirt in the estate’s gardens.

But I couldn’t say anything.

My tongue was frozen in my mouth and the red mist that wound around me constricted my breath and held me suspended in midair in front of my tormenter.

Lucian’s smirk softened into something unreadable—a flicker of emotion that threw me off guard before dissolving back into cruel amusement as he bent to scoop up the fallen papers. “You’ve been very busy this evening.”

I kicked against the mist’s restraint with everything I had left in me, and when it didn’t give, tears stung at my eyes.

He stood and held one page before him like a prize. His gaze could have burnt holes in me. “Don’t you see? You’re mine, Avril— You always have been.”