Page 6

Lucian’s words were razors dipped in poison as they burrowed under my skin and clawed their way into my bones.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as the red mist of his magic choked me and crept into the cracks of my mind.

The crimson orb throbbed in the air nearby, pulsating with Lucian’s power. It hummed with an insidious life and vibrated with the whisper of dark enchantments. I thrashed against its hold on me and struggled to free myself— but the red mist wound tighter, holding me like a vise.

My thoughts tangled with panic, wild and desperate, and I searched for an escape.

The grimoire whispered in my mind—urging me to use my power. Urging me to fight against Lucian… but I couldn’t.

I couldn’t show him how much the grimoire had changed me—he would only use it to manipulate and control me…

No.

You are stronger—

I wanted to scream, but the sound died in my throat, swallowed by the suffocating mist.

I couldn’t let it happen, couldn’t belong to him.

I fought against the terror and tried to think through the chaos, but my own thoughts echoed weakly in my mind.

You can fight this. You have to fight this.

But I couldn’t.

It was impossible.

“You have to try—”

The thought clawed at me, sharp and insistent. Lucian’s magic tightened its grip and squeezed the breath from my lungs. I writhed against it, but Lucian was everywhere, inside me, outside me, filling the air with his dark presence.

The orb was his heartbeat.

The mist was his breath.

The world spun—red and angry.

I refused to be his, even as the cruel tendrils wound around me, deeper and tighter.

He stood before me, his eyes like shards of cold glass that gleamed with a predatory amusement.

And something more.

A hunger.

Lust.

The pale hair that brushed his shoulders was a ghostly halo in the room's darkness.

His long fingers, twitching with latent energy, stained black with the remnants of ink, soot, and the stain of his dark spells, hung at his sides. He watched me struggle, calm and unfeeling, as if he were savoring my torment.

The cruel arch of his lips told me everything.

I belonged to him, whether I liked it or not.

I felt myself drowning in the red mist, my body heavy and useless.

Despite the power he claimed to have given me, I was helpless.

That was what he wanted.

Blood sang in my ears, and the world narrowed to the pounding beat of the crimson orb and the chill of his gaze.

The edges of my vision darkened, and the room shrank around me as the weight of his magic enveloped me. Still, his words echoed in my head.

“You have always been mine—”

Inevitable.

Inescapable.

No.

I couldn’t let those words be true.

But it hurt. It hurt to fight him.

His control was everywhere.

It burned through my veins like ice and fire and coiled around my heart.

The terror built in me—it was twisted—the allure of how easy it would have been to give in and let the darkness take hold of me hovered at the edges of my consciousness.

Was that what the grimoire wanted?

“No—”

Its voice thundered in my mind and I gasped at the force of it.

No.

No submission.

Not to him.

Not to anyone.

I had to act.

I had to break free to fight back.

But— But it was too late.

It was never too late.

His power pulled at me, irresistible, impossible to defy.

His grip on me was effortless, unbreakable... And he knew it.

I felt myself unraveling, my resistance slipping away, but I clung to the small defiant whisper that skittered through my thoughts.

“Not yet.”

Lucian was watching. He never looked away. The amusement in his eyes was unbearable. I had to prove him wrong. The mist threatened to swallow me, but I refused to let it.

The room flickered in and out of focus as I fought against his power, my hands trembling, my vision blurring with red. My magic, untested and fragile, trembled within me and resisted my frantic attempts to summon it.

Panic rose, sharp and dizzying, as my magic refused to respond.

I couldn’t do it. Not alone.

The edges of the room blurred and spun as colors bled together and my vision darkened. I fought against the fear and tried to dig deep, to find the power I knew was there. But Lucian’s magic stayed firm, smothering mine, and mocking me with every pulse.

The mist curled tighter, and Lucian’s eyes shone with delight.

He enjoyed seeing me struggle.

I had to get free. I had to get free.

I was running out of time. Out of breath.

My words tore from me, loud and ragged, as they tumbled over each other. “Tell me about my father.”

Lucian’s expression shifted, but only slightly, and the smile tugging at his lips widened. I could barely focus as panic pulled at me, but I could see that my demand had taken him by surprise.

“Your father— He was a selfish man, Avril…”

He paced around me in a slow circle, and the red orb moved with him, pulsing in time with his steps as its mist wrapped new tendrils around me.

“He wanted the power that the Necromi had promised to their leader,” he said. “He wanted what I had… He attempted to overthrow me.” His voice enveloped me, and I closed my eyes against the tears that stung my lashes.

“The Betrayer— He and I were very close at one time. As close as brothers.” Lucian shook his head and let out a sigh that sounded more contrived than genuine. “His actions were… unexpected. And they drove your mother to turn against him.”

“No.”

He was lying. He had to be.

“He was a fool.” Lucian’s voice turned colder. “He kidnapped you— A mere infant. He thought he could use you as leverage.”

Leverage? For what?

“It’s not true.” But the words had no bite.

I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Dario Velez’s betrayal was vile,” Lucian said. “Even Julia couldn’t abide it. She turned on him in the end. Did you know that, my dear? Did you know that your mother was the one who revealed Dario’s plot to me?” His voice dripped with feigned concern. With malice. “She was loyal.”

I did know.

Valen had told me months ago… but that didn’t mean it hurt less to hear the words spoken aloud.

How could she…

I still didn’t understand.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

Lucian’s words, although twisted and dark, sounded truthful. I wanted to scream, but the sound caught in my throat.

It had been easy to dismiss Valen’s words as a lie— But Lucian had nothing to gain from lying to me.

Or did he?

It couldn’t be true.

It couldn’t.

But his voice was so smooth, and everything he said seemed to fit.

The doubts sank in and filled me up with their suffocating darkness.

The grimoire’s whispers cut through my thoughts and filled my mind with its sharp hissing words. As its voice grew louder, my palms burned as my magic roared to life and emerged as a white-hot fire that burned away everything else.

I couldn’t control it, I didn't want to.

I let it explode from me, unrestrained.

I couldn’t feel anything but the power surging through me, consuming me.

The mist of Lucian’s magic that encircled my body flickered and then dissipated as my own surged forward.

The pressure eased, and I felt myself break free.

My vision cleared.

I saw him.

His pale eyes widened in shock.

It was overwhelming, exhilarating. I had done it. I had—

I hit the stone floor hard, and the force of it drove the breath from my lungs.

My magic faded as though frightened by its own power, and I was left gasping and stunned.

I couldn’t believe what had happened.

I had never felt anything like it, the way my magic had flared, bright and unstoppable.

It had torn through Lucian’s grip like paper.

Shit.

Lucian loomed above me, and I could see the way his expression shifted, from amusement to something else.

Surprise? No.

Suspicion.

He had underestimated me.

He wouldn’t do that again.

I struggled to my knees, the room still a blur. My magic had been more than I knew, more than I thought possible.

I had been weak, but maybe I wasn’t.

Not really.

Not if I could find that power again. Harness it.

The grimoire’s whispers were a satisfied buzz in my mind— was it… proud of me?

My hands were quickly bound, and the iron of Lucian’s power wrapped tight around my wrists. No mist this time—a hard, tight band of deep red smoke that didn’t move as I struggled against it.

The brief surge of power had left me exhausted, and I swayed on my knees.

For the briefest moment, I had been free—

Just long enough for the cold surface of the stone to remind me I had very little time.

Lucian’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and polished. “You have more power than I realized,” he said, as though testing the words. “The grimoire couldn’t fulfill its promise to your father, but it seems to have taken a liking to you.”

He sounded intrigued, but his tone was dangerous in its gentleness. With a flick of his fingers, he dragged me forward as the smokey red bands around my wrists writhed and tightened.

“What should I do with you, Avril Velez?” His voice had lost its playful edge. He sounded sharper now, impatient. Our eyes met, and I almost flinched at the intensity of his stare. “Your father would be proud of this… stubbornness.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said.

Lucian tilted his head as though considering my words. “Do you know why Julia told me of her husband’s plans? Do you know why she gave him up?” He crouched in front of me, his voice too soft and close. “She understood the recklessness of his actions. The futility. She saw him for what he was: a failure—” His words cut into me like razors.

“Go to hell,” I whispered.

“I’m not sure your mother would have applauded my restraint.” He gave a slow, deliberate shrug. “She didn’t think Dario deserved a second chance.”

“And what reward did she get for her loyalty?” I hissed. “She’s dead—”

I wanted to shout in his face that I knew he’d killed her.

But something stopped me.

“Careful, my dear,” Lucian murmured as he leaned closer. “Mercy and patience are two qualities I am not known to possess in abundance.”

With a quick motion, he reached out and grabbed hold of my elbows. He hauled me to my feet and I let out a choked cry and my knees buckled as feeling rushed back into my lower legs.

“How deep have you delved into the grimoire?” he hissed.

Careful—

The grimoire’s whisper, a voice that had been so loud only moments ago, seemed to retreat before Lucian’s double-edged question.

I couldn’t let him see my fear. I couldn’t let him know how far I had gone.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, and my voice broke, fragile and weak.

Lucian smiled. It was a slow, sinister curve of his lips, full of malice and amusement. I knew then that he saw through me, saw every bit of my uncertainty and doubt.

He leaned closer, and the shadows deepened around us. “Do not lie to me, Avril.” His voice was soft, almost tender, but the threat in it was unmistakable.

“I’m not,” I insisted.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Lucian straightened, the ghost of a laugh in his voice. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even surprised. “But I suppose I must be lenient— It will take some time for the magic you took from that girl—”

“From Clara,” I choked out. “She has a name—”

“ Had a name,” Lucian snapped. His pale eyes held mine. “You took her life along with her magic. Don’t shy away from it.” I tried to look away, but I was trapped. “Do you feel shame for what you did?” he continued. “Regret?” His eyes narrowed. “Or was it justice?”

“I—”

I had felt all of those things.

Shame for giving in.

Regret for what I’d done—

And the thrill of justice as Clara’s blood had welled up around the blade of the knife I’d used to slice into her flesh—

“I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do.” Lucian’s voice pinned me in place. “It’s only a matter of time—”

“Time?”

“As I said,” Lucian continued in a tone that seemed more bored than anything. “The magic will settle and mingle with that pale spark you already possessed—it will be wild at first. Uncontrollable. But then it will merge, and you will feel like yourself again.”

How could I ever feel like that?

And it wasn’t just Clara’s magic that swirled through my veins…

The wildness inside me was from other sources.

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at me with a condescending stare. “You will feel… unsettled. Perhaps you will have cravings you don’t understand. They are… remnants…”

I swallowed hard.

Remnants? Remnants of the soul I had stolen?

That explained a few things at least…

“Perhaps you should focus on other matters,” he said. His eyes glinted, cruel and cold. “Like our impending wedding.”

His words were a punch to the gut, and I recoiled from them.

“You can’t—” I started, but he cut me off, his voice smooth and implacable.

“It is inevitable,” he said. “A decision already made.”

“I won’t.” I pushed back as much as I dared. But there was no strength behind my words, no conviction.

“You will marry me,” he said. A simple statement of fact. “And you will obey me.” He leaned close, his breath a ghost of ice on my skin. “And should you betray me—” The pause was long and deliberate. “You will suffer.”

The red bands of smoke around my wrists tightened briefly, and then fell away and I looked down as they dissipated.

I rubbed my wrists angrily as I glared back at him.

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand and walked back toward his desk and stepped on the papers I had tried to burn with a careless stride.

“Do not disappoint me again, Avril,” he said as I stumbled away from him. “No more acts of childish rebellion— Soon you will be the mistress of this estate, and there will be no room for such… disobedience.”

I didn’t have any words to answer him. The red orb hovered just above his shoulder and pulsed with a steady rhythm. I backed away, unable to tear my eyes from him until I reached the door and the unsettling chill of the hallway brushed against my calves.

Without thinking, I turned and ran.

I stumbled through the halls of the manor with Lucian’s words echoing in my mind.

The mistress of this estate.

It felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

When I reached my room, I slammed the door behind me, but the vastness of my impending fate quickly overwhelmed my fleeting satisfaction. The room was dark and cold, and shadows clung to the corners like cobwebs as I leaned against the door and tried to bring my breathing back under control.

I had convinced myself that the wedding wouldn’t happen.

That, somehow, something would happen to keep it at bay.

But now—

No one was coming to save me. That left only one option—I’d have to save myself.

Titus, Valen, and Bastian—they were too afraid to stand against their father.

They were waiting for the right time to strike…

But I wasn’t so sure that time would ever come.

Lucian only seemed stronger and more powerful every time I saw him.

For a moment, I stood still and let the silence of the room seep into me like poison. Then something within me snapped, and I lashed out with my magic—like a child throwing a tantrum. The burst of magic knocked over a vase and I let out a cry as a vase filled with dark flowers toppled over and shattered on the floor in a spray of gilded porcelain and water.

I could feel the strange magic in my veins stirring again, restless and hungry. I felt Clara there too, her essence wild and writhing within me, mingling with the power I’d stolen from my stepbrothers.

I gritted my teeth against the surge of it.

Remnants—Lucian hadn’t been lying about that.

Somewhere deep beneath the fury that swirled through me was fear.

Fear that Lucian was right—fear that I would lose myself completely before I had a chance to bring it under control.

But what did I know about control?

When had I ever had control of anything in my life?

I sank onto the bed and buried my face in my hands. He would never let me go; he had said so himself.

But I wouldn’t submit to him—not after everything he’d done to my family.

After everything he had done to me.

And for everything he had planned… I didn’t want to think about it.

An image of Clara’s lifeless eyes flickered into my mind and I shook my head to force it away, but a vision of my mother’s face replaced it—pale and rotting—

“Make it stop,” I whispered.

The grimoire’s whispers rose in my thoughts and I lifted my face from my hands.

It sat on my vanity, waiting in the dark.

All the power I sought was hidden in its pages.

The way I could defeat Lucian and snatch my life back from his hands was there—

I rose to my feet and crossed the room on unsteady legs.

My fingers hovered over the intricately stitched leather, and the red stones embedded in the grimoire seemed to wink at me in the dim light. A candle flickered to life. Then another.

I sank down into the chair and took a breath before I pulled the hidden dagger from the grimoire’s spine.

The familiar kiss of the blade against my skin was comforting now and my eyes drifted closed as my blood dripped over the lock—

If giving in was so easy.

Why would I fight it?