Page 7

I slumped against the window seat, my shoulder pressed against the cold glass.

I’d been watching the rain, but the storm had subsided enough to allow the faintest bit of light to pierce through the clouds—the smallest reprieve. I hadn’t been outside in days and the weather hadn’t helped my mood.

My focus had been on the grimoire and my arms were criss-crossed with healing cuts from where I’d opened my veins to bring the grimoire’s secrets to the surface.

I was exhausted.

Hollow.

I tapped my finger against the glass and traced the path of a wayward raindrop.

But I wasn’t broken.

Not anymore.

I was angry.

As I looked out over the garden, a flicker of movement caught my eye.

Valen.

Lust spiked through me as I watched his figure move through the carefully sculpted garden, and I wondered briefly if I’d become like him and his brothers—if cruelty was a taste that grew sweeter with time. Maybe I’d grow to savor it too.

I could see him more clearly now, long and lean, curling hair caught in the breeze. He paused at the edge of the garden and looked toward the house. The slight tilt of his head made me think he saw me.

I pressed my fingers to the glass, then slipped from the window seat and padded across the room and slipped into a pair of low-heeled shoes. My cashmere sweater slipped down over my shoulder and a chill rippled over my skin, but I didn’t pause as I walked toward the door.

No jacket. I didn’t have time to hunt through my closet for anything appropriate.

I wanted to see Valen.

He had been the one who’d told me about my mother’s betrayal—how she had revealed my father’s plans to Lucian.

What else did he know?

Or had he only known enough to hurt me?

Nothing he could say would hurt me now.

Not like before.

I took the stairs two at a time and my pulse quickened with every step. The hallway on the main floor stretched before me and the shadows seemed to recede as I passed. I made an abrupt detour to the side door that led into the garden and hesitated only long enough to draw a deep breath before I wrenched it open.

The air outside was heavy with the remnants of the rainstorm and the scent of it was thick in my nostrils. The distant rumble of thunder was just a murmur now, a low growl that echoed through the clouds. I stepped out onto the slick stone path and winced at the bite of cold as it seeped through the thin soles of my shoes.

I hurried into the garden without looking back at the house. I wanted to disappear in the shadowed pathways and encroaching greenery. I wanted to find him.

Pale lilies edged the far end of the garden like an army of watchful ghosts. The garden stretched like a patchwork of living nightmares, lovely and threatening at the same time. It was easy to get lost in this maze of topiaries and sharp rose bushes… but something seemed to pull me along the pathway.

A hedge of roses choked the wall and thorns stood out like sharp teeth, glinting with the promise of pain.

I thought I saw him through the trees.

I stood in the archway and called Valen’s name.

My voice was sharp against the quiet and I worried that I’d imagined seeing him… that the grimoire was playing tricks on my mind.

Its whispers were quiet now—that wasn’t always a good thing.

There was no answer.

Just the rustling of leaves and my own breath, sharp and panicked.

Maybe he was already gone.

I could go back now, hide behind the folds of the heavy velvet curtains that covered my windows and felt more like a shroud every day. Frustrated, I turned, but then a shadow moved across the path.

“Valen,” I called out again.

Relief leapt in my chest as the shadow I’d seen became Valen’s familiar form.

He turned slowly, his expression unreadable from this distance. I closed the gap between us quickly and ignored the muddy water that splashed up around my ankles and stained the delicate silk of my shoes. I didn’t care if they were ruined. What right did I have to beautiful things?

Pointlessly beautiful.

And for whose benefit?

Lucian’s?

I didn’t want any of it.

Valen wasn’t wearing a coat either. The damp fabric of his shirt clung to him in places, hinting at the lean muscles I knew were hidden beneath. I could just see the swirl of the dark tattoos that covered his chest at the edge of his shirt’s neckline.

He looked at me with eyes like black ice—beautiful and dangerous—and the same spike of lust twisted through me again, hot and insistent.

“How did you know I was here?” he said when I was close enough to hear him.

“I saw you—” The words came out more breathless than I’d intended as I pointed up at my bedroom window.

Something flickered across his face—surprise maybe—but it was gone too quickly to be sure. “Is everything— Are you okay?”

I laughed without humor. “How am I supposed to answer that?”

His jaw tightened. He knew why I was upset—why wouldn’t I be?

“What do you want?” His gaze swept over me.

I bit my lip. “It’s too quiet in there. I needed some air.”

“A little bird frightened of silence?” He was teasing me again.

“I’ve been— lonely,” I admitted. “I needed someone to talk to.”

“Someone?” He pretended to look shocked, then gave me a half-smile. “Someone or just me?”

I felt a warmth spread through me like wine, dark and disorienting, but I didn’t have any intention of answering his question.

“What are you doing?”

A flicker of something darker passed over his features. “Tending to the plants,” he said. “They needed some care.”

“Which ones?”

“The ones I warned you about.”

“The poisonous ones?” I glanced at the bed of pale flowers behind him, half-expecting them to reach out for me with long, bony fingers. “They look harmless.”

“Don’t get too close,” he said. “Sometimes the most innocent looking ones are the most dangerous.”

“How deadly are they?”

His smile grew a little sharper and his eyes fixed on me like he was seeing something he hadn’t noticed before. “Why are you so interested?”

I shrugged and took a few steps closer to the bed. The flowers seemed to lean toward me—or was I imagining things? “I was never very good with plants… Why do you take care of them?”

“I told you,” he said, but his voice was soft, as though my question amused and saddened him at the same time. “It’s to honor my mother. She was the one who taught me how to care for plants like these. Dangerous plants need more care than the others…”

I snatched my hand back.

Why was I reaching for them?

A murmur in the back of my mind sounded like laughter, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Would you like to see her?” he asked.

I hesitated. “Her grave? She’s buried here in the garden, isn’t she?”

He nodded.

Horrifying. Why would she be buried here?

But how many other bodies were scattered around the estate? How many ghosts haunted this place?

Too many, the grimoire whispered back.

“She’s buried here, but I don’t come here to remember her.”

“Why?”

He tilted his head, and I felt like an idiot for asking. There was so much I didn’t know about them—but so much I was afraid to know, too. “Would you like to see?”

“Yes,” I blurted out.

Valen extended his hand toward me, but I was reluctant to take it. After a moment, he shrugged and turned away from me.

“Keep up,” he said without looking back.

I hurried to match his pace.

My pulse drummed in my ears. I was scared, but more than that, I was curious.

“What happened to her?” I asked. “Your mother?”

He didn’t answer right away, and I wondered if this was yet another question I wasn’t supposed to ask.

“Valen?”

“You’re impatient.”

“A little.”

Just at the edge of the gardens, he stopped walking and turned to face me. His eyes were deep and endless, and filled with something I didn’t expect: tenderness. “She was a loyal member of the Necromi,” he said. “That’s what Lucian says, anyway. I’m sure that’s supposed to comfort me.”

“Is it true?”

“As true as any other story here.” He looked away and his brow furrowed briefly. “She offered herself to him. A bride from an influential family—someone who could secure his rise to power. She had powerful magic. Her father was influential among the Sages and in the business community...” A wry smile twisted his lips. “All the things Lucian likes best. But before they could be married, she was murdered.”

I gasped and covered my mouth with one hand. “Murdered?”

Valen’s eyes reflected the darkness of the clouds overhead before he met my gaze. “Titus and Bastian’s mother. She was… something else. A powerful witch… Almost as dark as Lucian. Before he met my mother, she was Lucian’s favorite.”

“And you—”

He shrugged. “I’m a bastard. I’m supposed to be grateful to have been acknowledged— or for not being killed. No one can seem to decide which one is more important.” He took a breath and looked back at the house. “What makes it worse… I wasn’t supposed to find out what happened to her.”

“How awful— I’m so—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he snapped as he met my gaze once more. “It doesn’t matter.”

I swallowed hard. He must have been so young when it happened—

“How did you find out?”

He snorted. “That Lucian was lying? It was years… He told me that she’d sacrificed herself. That’s what he told everyone.”

Dread coiled in my stomach as Valen’s expression darkened.

“The grimoire showed me the truth.”

That damned book.

I shook my head in disbelief. “But— Why would Lucian lie to you?”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “It didn’t matter to him.”

“Why did she do it?”

“Mariam was already pregnant when she took my mother’s magic for herself.” His voice was almost light, but it cut through me like a knife. “I should have been the one to inherit her magic. But Mariam stole her final breath, and Bastian was the one who benefitted…”

Horrifying.

“And Lucian?”

Valen’s expression shifted and I couldn’t mistake the bitterness. “What about him? He’d already acknowledged me as his son. But my brothers will never let me forget that I’m not really one of them.”

“That’s awful.”

“Is it? I don’t want to be like them.”

He started walking again, and his long strides left me behind. I bit down hard on my lip and jogged to catch up with him. My satin flats slipped on the wet grass, but I managed to keep my balance as I reached his side. He didn’t look at me, and he didn’t say anything else.

We moved past the edge of the garden and across the estate. Past the garage where Valen spent most of his time and I looked back over my shoulder as the imposing outline of Withermarsh shrank behind us, wreathed in darkened clouds.

It was going to rain again.

Valen led me into the forest at the edge of the clearing and I hesitated, but only for a moment, before I plunged into the trees.

I wasn’t dressed for this.

The tangled roots were like clutching fingers around my feet. I had to fight my way forward, but Valen barely seemed to notice. He moved with the ease of a forest spirit, as if he belonged in this place, and I was the intruder.

Everything was muffled here, and only the sound of our steps broke the stillness. Valen looked back at me from time to time, his expression unreadable. I shivered and gripped the hem of my sleeves in frustration as another root caught my foot.

“Where are we going?”

“Not far—”

The silence grew heavy, and the trees seemed to close around me.

The whispers in my mind rose behind my thoughts and amplified every question I’d been trying to avoid.

Why had my mother given up so much to be with Lucian?

Had she loved my father at all?

What else had she traded away to be Lucian’s bride?

And she had ended up dead… Just like all the women unlucky enough to come between Lucian and his lust for power…

I knew he didn’t love me.

But had he loved any of them?

I looked at Valen’s back as he walked ahead of me, trying to gauge the answer. Was he using me the same way his father had used all the women in his life? Was that what he had learned at Lucian’s feet as a child?

A sharp pain blossomed at my ankle, a throb, a piercing, quick and hot, and I let out a cry of surprise. I stumbled but didn’t fall. My foot had caught on something sharp and unyielding. Valen turned, his eyes catching mine.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, but I grimaced at the sight of dark blood on my ankle as it trickled down my foot and disappeared into my shoe, staining the silk. “The damned roots— Where are you taking me?”

“We’re almost there.”

As promised, the forest thinned and then opened to reveal a small clearing—and a ravine.

Valen walked to the edge, but I stayed a few steps behind. The ground fell away sharply in front of us and I felt dizzy just being there—where Valen stood looked as though it might fall away at any minute.

“Be careful—” I said in a voice that sounded far too small.

“No time for that,” he murmured and then turned and reached out a hand toward me. “Come closer. It’s safe.”

I didn’t believe him, but my feet moved of their own accord.

I grabbed hold of Valen’s arm and gripped it as I peered over the edge. The narrow strip of land at the bottom was barren and empty. No trees or plants grew there, just shadows, sharp rocks, and dust. My breath caught as I noticed a bouquet of white flowers with dark green leaves that stood out against the drab colors.

The flowers Valen tended…

Valen watched my face, gauging my reaction, studying me, but I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t stop looking at the barren ground below.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I told you,” he said. “I wanted you to meet her. That was where they found her body. Murdered, drained of magic, and dumped in the ravine. Mariam didn’t even try to hide it. She was proud of what she’d done. Justified.”

There was no one here. “Are you just trying to scare me?” I blurted out.

“You think that’s what I’m doing?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what anyone is doing anymore.”

Wind tugged at my hair and I finally dragged my eyes away from the ravine.

“I don’t want you to end up like her—” he said finally. “You have to protect yourself.”

I shook my head as bitterness filled my mouth. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

He didn’t answer, and I released my hold on his arm.

“Why do you stay here? Why don’t you run?”

He looked down at the ravine, his expression shadowed and thoughtful. “My mother is still here,” he said, almost to himself. “Not just her memory. I feel her. Right here, in this place... That’s why I stay.”

The wind picked up and whistled through the trees like a chorus of hollow voices. My head spun as the grimoire’s whispers fought for dominance in my mind, pushing my thoughts aside. “I can’t take it,” I said. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

Valen was close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body through my sweater. “You don’t have to be,” he said. “You can leave—”

I stared at him in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Withermarsh. Messana. Lucian.” He hesitated, then his expression grew resolute. “All of it. If you want, I’ll show you how.”

I’d imagined leaving so many times, but always alone.

Was he serious? Or was this just another test— Would he drag me in front of Lucian again and mock me with his brothers standing over me?

“But you—” I stammered, “You’d really go?” I took a step back, the distance was safe and terrifying all at once. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can.”

His expression grew earnest. “You can. You don’t know Lucian like I do, like we do. You don’t owe him anything.”

I shook my head. “He’ll never let me go.”

“He’ll never find you,” Valen said. “I promise you’ll be safe— I’ve been planning it for a long time, waiting for the right moment.”

“But how do I know—”

“That you can trust me?” He cut in. “Because I’m the only one you can trust. I’m the only one who understands you.”

That wasn’t true.

They all understood me—different parts of me.

I hesitated, the edge of the ravine behind me.

Something forced its way into my thoughts.

What if I just… fell?

The grimoire surged in my mind—even the thought of ending my life was enough to make it react.

What if it was the only way I could truly be free?

“Will you think about it?” he asked.

I nodded, but the movement was tentative.

My heart burned with the need to escape, to run, to get away from everything my mother’s choices had forced on me. I should have hated this world. I should have despised it.

But Valen was still here. Titus and Bastian were still here. I wanted them, too. And even though I knew they were dangerous, even though I knew they could kill me, even though I knew I was letting the grimoire destroy me, I didn’t want to leave.

Valen’s gaze was steady and full of expectation. I could feel him waiting for me to say yes, waiting for me to throw myself into his arms and into his plan.

I wanted to be free—and to run away with him… I was more drawn to that promise than I wanted to admit.

But something held me back.

And so I hesitated.

“I—” My voice cracked. “I don’t know what I want.”

“I do.” His eyes were alive and full of promise. “I know what you want.”

He laid his hands on my hips, firm and comforting, and pulled me closer as the gray-stained world shrank away.

I leaned in as his lips brushed against mine, tentative at first, testing. Then the kiss grew deeper, more urgent and my mouth opened under his.

The ground swayed beneath me.

A tremor coursed through my body, too powerful, too intense, too real.

It would be so easy to give in—so easy—

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

I pulled away, breaking the kiss, my breath ragged, my head spinning, my heart a hurricane of fear and longing and doubt.

“I—” I stammered. “I can’t.”

He seemed amused, like he’d expected this all along, like he’d been waiting for it. “Not yet?”

“Not yet.”

He released his hold on me but didn’t back away. “I can wait.”

The ravine was so close.

One small step—I could make it all go away.

“I’ll think about it,” I said again, but the words sounded empty and uncertain.

“That’s all I ask.”

I looked over my shoulder at the poisonous flowers at the bottom of the ravine and another shiver ran through me.

“Do you want to go back?” he asked.

I nodded, unable to answer.

Valen drew his arm around my shoulders and pulled me away from the edge of the ravine.

Could he hear my thoughts? The thundering of my heart that threatened to choke me?

My mind spun in circles.

Valen wanted to help me—to help me escape this place.

That was what they’d promised me when I had first given in to Titus’ demands.

Give us what we want, and you’ll get what you want.

Freedom. That was what I wanted—and Valen was going to give it to me.

My mother’s face flashed in my mind, then Lucian’s.

The sight of my stepfather—of the sorcerer I was going to marry in a few weeks’ time… Was he the one behind this? Was Valen playing me, just like the rest of them? Or did he really want me?

Did I really want him?

I thought of the kiss, of the sharp, sweet thrill of the way our bodies entwined... My heart skipped. My pulse raced.

Even though my legs felt strange and the ground was uneven, I forced myself to keep walking.

The trees grew thinner. The sky broke through. I could see the outline of Withermarsh ahead, larger and more terrifying than ever. It was my prison, my nightmare, my home.

I could sense Lucian’s presence, even from this distance, and it filled me with dread.

I needed to choose… soon.

“Are you all right?” Valen asked.

The sound of his voice startled me.

“Fine,” I snapped.

Confusion twisted his features, and he stopped at the edge of the garage.

“Let me know what you decide,” he said.

I didn’t answer and the grimoire’s words echoed in my thoughts and drowned out everything else.

It was angry with me—angry that I would consider severing our bond.

Was it even possible?

“No.”

The hiss was dangerous— terrifying.

That meant it was possible.

And if I could escape the grimoire’s influence, maybe I could escape this place, too…