Page 12

UNDER THEIR SPELL

Isolde

Something is wrong.

Very fucking wrong.

One second, I’m wistfully asleep in dreamland, but not for long. There’s this aching cold seeping into my bones, tugging and gnawing at my wrists and ankles. It’s rendering me immobile.

I try to move, but it’s futile against whatever is keeping me captive.

It feels like I’m hurtling over the edge of a lethal cliff, wind slamming against my face—only to be swallowed by something thicker than air, a blindness that weighs down on me like fog turned to stone.

My eyes won’t open at first. The cold clamps them shut, but it’s not just the cold. Something is holding me in that limbo, a suffocating and angry grip that tugs at the skin on my wrists with each breath I take.

I realize my hands are bound behind my back.

What the hell is going on?

Eyes opening as the grogginess of sleep seeps away, I manage to squint through a darkness that has succumbed over my surroundings.

Panic fills my chest, like someone struck a flare right into my ribs. I stare at an unknown wall made of black concrete, elegant and sleek yet weathered by decades, signifying a dignity in time. This isn’t my room. It’s not even my apartment.

I jerk forward instinctively, but I can’t move. I shift just enough to catch a glimpse of what it is.

Silk.

Fucking silk is wrapped around my legs, intricately woven from my feet up to my knees, then thighs, covering my high-laced boots.

I don’t remember going to sleep with my shoes on.

The silk is tangled with the threaded laces running up the front, crisscrossing their way up, which only adds the feeling of being suffocated, walls closing in on me until I feel claustrophobic. Where am I?

My arms are tied behind my back, with what I presume is the same silk.

Fear slowly creeps in as the pressure of the ribbons is snug against my skin. The terror gives way to panic, leaving my heart hammering and my limbs trying to twitch with the rush of adrenaline, and the desperate need to fight my way out of here.

But it’s as if the silk is unbreakable. Unstoppable.

There’s no getting out of them.

Trying to pry away the silken ribbons from my wrists only seems to make everything worse as the bindings pull tighter against my skin. Cutting into me with their sharp edge. If I’m not careful, they might tear into my flesh.

Like the devil from hell stepping through my front door, I hear the faint click of heels against marble. Measured and calm, coming all the closer.

It’s too dark to make out much, but I can see a flickering stone hearth behind me, its flames lapping up the cold. It’s enough to make the cold a little more bearable. I need my head clear.

Slivers of moonlight sneak in through a high window, but the rays only amplify the dread mounting within me.

I’m not prepared to see what’s before me; who’s coming.

I don’t think I ever will be.

Each of the clicking footsteps sends a violent shiver down my spine, a tick to my doom.

Yet, the silence that ensues between each step is even worse. She’s drawing this out; this twisted game. It’s her time to hurt me like I’ve hurt her.

The fire crackles behind me, radiating a heat that only makes sweat trickle down the nape of my neck. Other than that, it’s entirely silent between her slowed steps.

Way too quickly, the footsteps stop right as they reach me.

I catch a glimpse of those high heels delicately wrapped around bare feet, red painted toenails giving her an even more feminine aura.

At first, I don’t even dare lift my gaze—not prepared to meet it after so long—but then, I force myself.

I rake my eyes over her naked feet, to her bare thighs.

To the black satin dress fit snugly against her curves, and up to her eyes flaring with something unknown and intense.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

I stare up at her for the first time in years. Dark, twisted, and sinfully her—the way she stands there, looming above my lying form. I can’t sit up, not with how I’m delicately wrapped in ribbons.

A smirk splits her red-painted lips, and I tense.

My fingers curl into fists behind my back, nails pressing hard into my palms with an unnatural force. Teeth grinding together, fear wraps around me, spreading like a seed from a flower inside of me.

The sharp line of her frame is both elegant and feminine, at the same time as it’s dark and menacing.

Fuck, she’s even more beautiful than she used to be.

A deep chuckle escapes her as she notices my expression. Then, she leans down on her haunches in such an elegant way that it seems almost royal. She’s far from it, if you don’t count perhaps the devil’s spawn.

The faint scent of her perfume hits my nostrils in an instant, and it’s then that I know she’s definitely toying with me. That goddamn perfume; it’s been in my nightmares more times than I’d like to admit. Something floral and sweet, a poison that lures you in.

A devil that tricks you into her den.

She speaks for the first time, her voice wrapping around me like a siren.

“Good. You’re awake.”

A red-painted fingernail trails over my temple, brushing away a hair strand from my face. I lean away from her, trying to escape her intoxicating grip.

It’s impossible with the ribbons tied securely around me.

“We have waited a very long time to finally claim you again, angel.”

“Don’t touch me,” I whisper, the fight leaving my body. “Where am I?”

I knew it would come to this, and yet I couldn’t properly prepare my mind for the feelings that would be invoked inside me at seeing her again after so long.

“At Mayhem Castle.”

My stomach drops.

She smiles deviantly at my reaction, her finger continuing to trail over my face, staring deep into my eyes, as if she can see the demons hiding there, slowly stealing my soul away. A shiver runs down my spine at her sinful touch.

“Did you like the gifts we left you? More specifically, the hand ?” She taunts, just confirming what I feared—they left the hand in my stone hearth.

“W-why?”

“He touched you. At the crime scene the other day,” she breathes into my ear.

Everything falls into place, and I don’t know if I should be moved or not. I’m mad at the fact that I nearly got caught for it, the day Casper called me home. How did he even know about it?

“We gifted you the hand to prove our devotion. We’ll protect you, no matter what. No matter if you betray us.” She sniffs my hair, as if dragging in my essence. “Heads up: don’t do it again.”

Her hand trails lower, reaching my neck, and I involuntarily tilt it to give her better access.

Stupid, traitorous body.

A shiver wracks my body when she’s right above my breasts, my chest heaving. I can’t help but stare at her, taking in that deep, rich color of her burgundy hair, wondering if this is real, or if I’m hallucinating her.

Weeks of stress, years of worry, must have made me lose my goddamned mind.

She hums, a sound that feels almost like a purr. “So obedient,” she whispers. “Even after all this time, your body still craves my touch.”

I grit my teeth, hating the fact that she always notices. She always was the best at reading my reaction.

“Don’t touch me,” I grit out again, but it comes out as a plea.

Her hand comes down to my breast, trailing gently over my nipple through the T-shirt I wore to bed. A shiver crawls down my spine, and I bite my tongue to keep from making the slightest sound.

“You act as if you don’t want this, when I know you’ve missed us as much as we’ve missed you,” she muses. “But you understand we need to punish you, right? You’ve been a very bad girl.”

“Leave me alone,” I growl, tugging on the restraints keeping me captive.

The sound she lets out is dark and seductive, like a cackle, yet somehow mesmerizing. My body shouldn’t react like this around her, yet it does. A tingling sensation trails down my spine.

Her finger trails over my body, then switches to my thighs, and my body cannot help but react.

I hate myself in this moment, for this stupid awakening that’s spreading through me like a blooming seed.

Her lips brush against the shell of my ear, not saying anything, but so there . Fingertips lightly brushing against my skin have my body twitching, and her lips tilt up in a knowing smile.

“So responsive,” she muses, and I squirm.

My legs are grinding against each other, trying to stem the rising sensations within me. She slaps my thigh, causing me to hiss out until my legs spread. She hums in approval, and I glare at her.

Looking at her fucking hurts; it tears my heart apart until it feels as if I cannot breathe anymore.

I’m forced to break eye contact when looking becomes too much, but she tsks.

“Give me those eyes, angel,” she murmurs against my ear, the sound of rustling fabric echoing loudly in the room.

I don’t give in at first, until her red-painted nails squeeze my cheeks, ultimately forcing me to look at her when the sharp bite of pain takes over.

What I see in them makes my heart clench, as her hand slowly releases my cheeks and gently pries my legs apart.

She removes the ribbons tightly secured around my legs and thighs, allowing me the freedom to move again, but the silk keeps my arms captive behind my back.

Unwillingly, she tugs my shorts and panties down, leaving me naked down there for her eyes to behold.

A blush creeps over my cheeks as embarrassment seeps into my bones, and I flinch away. The disapproving glare she gives me makes me instantly look back up at her.

Fuck, why am I obeying her?

Her fingers gently trail over to my clit, now throbbing with unwanted need. If she spreads my legs wider, she will see the wetness pooling between my legs. Desire for her.

Surely, only an automatic bodily reaction, right? It’s not as if I actually want her.

She hums as she stares down at me, drinking me in like one would a cocktail; steadily, securely, enjoying every sip of the poison slithering down your throat.

“You’re trembling. Tell me, is it because you’re afraid or because you’re craving more of me?”