Page 15 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Zara

Jaxon shifted behind me, the movement stirring me from sleep. A lazy smile tugged at my lips as his large, callused hand slid up my body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. My skin prickled under his touch, my mind already drifting to the thought of continuing what we had started last night.

But the moment was shattered when I felt the unmistakable cool press of a blade against my throat. My entire body went rigid, the joy I’d felt moments ago replaced by a rush of icy dread.

“Tell me, little stalker,” a voice purred, silky yet rough, sending a shiver down my spine. “Do you make it a habit of shadowing into other people’s beds?”

Xavier.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, and I instinctively jerked back at the sound of his voice, only to find myself pressed even closer against him—his hard, unyielding chest at my back and something else… something unmistakably solid pressing into me.

He hissed at the sudden contact, his breath hot against my ear. “Apologies,” he drawled, the edge of his voice dark and amused. “I’m not used to beautiful women appearing in my bed unannounced.”

A nearby lamp flickered to life with a soft click, casting a low, dim glow over the room. I had to blink my eyes to adjust them to the new light. How did that turn on? And why was it so bright?

We were on an exceptionally large bed, soft black silk sheets beneath me.

I could see a door directly ahead of me on the adjacent wall, stone walls peeking between heavy tapestries, and books scattered haphazardly across various pieces of furniture, most spilling onto the floor.

I had disappeared again—to him .

Panic overtook me, and I swallowed against the blade. I hated that these men kept holding daggers to my throat.

“Seeing as I clearly didn’t mean to end up here,” I hissed, my voice sharp and laced with annoyance, “you can let go of me now.”

His grip didn’t loosen, though I could feel the weight of his amusement behind me. “You’re a spy who somehow slips past my wards and ends up near me whenever you please. I don’t think so, little stalker,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous in my ear. The heat of his breath sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

“Do you see any weapons on me?” I snapped, my heart pounding in my chest, but I kept my voice sharp, refusing to let fear show.

“Weapons mean nothing when someone has magic,” he snapped back.

“I was asleep! And I don’t have magic—I didn’t even know I was here!” I tried to shift in his hold, twisting enough to throw an elbow toward his ribs. He grunted and chuckled softly at my attempt.

He removed his dagger and pushed me violently away with his other arm. The force of his push made me go flying, and I almost went off the edge of the bed. I quickly righted myself, anger and embarrassment flooding my veins.

I turned to him with a scowl, but it quickly turned to surprise as my eyes landed on him in the bed.

Xavier was now seated, the black silk sheets haphazardly bunched in his lap, barely covering his very naked body. His muscular chest gleamed in the dim light, the hard lines of his body catching every shadow. I quickly averted my eyes, heat crawling up my neck.

He smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort. His dagger wasstill held defensively at his side as if I were a threat.

“Tell me, Zara, was it?” His voice was a dangerous whisper. “How long have you been fucking my brother?” he hissed, his tone demanding, tinged with a raw edge I couldn’t quite place.

My mouth fell open in shock, and I met his emerald gaze again. “I am not sleeping with your brother,” I managed to retort, my cheeks flushing crimson.

Xavier’s gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing as he barred his teeth at me, “Your scent was all over him the other night, and his scent lingers on you now.”

“People need to stop smelling me!” I snapped, swinging my legs off the bed and standing. My hands flew to my hips, and I glared down at him, trying to reclaim some semblance of control.

“Why am I here?” I demanded.

“You tell me,” he snarled, rising from the bed with a fluid, almost unnatural grace. The sheet fell aside, leaving him fully exposed in front of me. His thick length hung heavily between his legs, a stark reminder of his arousal. He stood towering next to the bed, his inky black hair falling over his face. That white strand fell just over his eyes as he peered at me through lowered lashes.

More heat flooded my cheeks, and I instinctively raised my hand, trying to shield his lower body from my view. I turned away, embarrassed and frustrated, only to hear him chuckle darkly behind me.

“Have you never seen a naked male before?” he purred, his voice a silky taunt that made my skin prickle. The sound of his movements drew me back around, and I watched as he draped a black robe over his shoulders.

With the robe now concealing his naked body, I let my hand fall back to my side, my gaze meeting his fully. “Of course I have,” I snapped, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

He noticed my balled-up fists and raised an eyebrow, a hidden smirk on his lips. His gaze, however, was cold and assessing. Without a word, he stalked around the bed, his movements predatory. He stopped directly in front of me, the robe hanging open across his chest, revealing the hard lines of his sculpted muscles. The sight was captivating and infuriating, and I shifted uncomfortably, cursing myself inwardly for my body's reaction to this man.

Before I knew what he was doing, he seized my neck with a swift, brutal grasp, slamming me against the cold stone wall. The air left my lungs all at once on impact, and his dagger pressed against my ribs, the cold steel biting into my skin.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice deadly.

“You tell me,” I spat, my voice strained as I clawed at his hand, desperate to ease the pressure on my throat. His grip only tightened, making it increasingly difficult to breathe.

He let out a dark, mocking laugh, leaning closer, his breath warm and unsettling against my ear. “Does my brother not satisfy you, love?” he purred, the words dripping with twisted amusement. “Had to come crawling to my bed instead?”

“You’re disgusting,” I rasped, forcing the words out as I summoned every ounce of defiance left in me. My hand shot to his chest, slamming against him with all the strength I could muster. But he didn’t budge—he didn’t even flinch.

“Is this your plan then?” He cocked his head slightly, his voice dropping to a low growl. “To seduce me?” he whispered, and his emerald eyes burned with a fierce intensity as they bore into mine.

My blood boiled, and I stopped squirming. “I’m getting tired of people threatening me,” I hissed, my voice tight with frustration.

“That wasn’t a no,” he said through clenched teeth, his tone turning cold. Without another word, he shoved away from me, releasing me from his hold.

I gasped, my throat burning as I struggled to draw in a breath.

Before I could curse him, a sudden, unnerving sensation around my wrist seized my attention. My eyes widened in panic as a silver chain seemed to slither and coil around my right arm. I grabbed at it, desperately trying to pry it off, but it only tightened, digging painfully into my skin.

“What is this?!” I shouted, fear coursing through me as I pawed at the metal. “Get it off me!” I screamed as I frantically looked at Xavier.

He merely watched, his smile widening with cold amusement, before turning his back on me. He strolled across the room and stopped in front of an ornate bar cart.

The cart stood on delicate, gilded legs that tapered gracefully towards the floor. Its surface was polished mahogany, intricately carved with delicate floral and vine patterns. Scattered across the surface were various colored bottles and drinking glasses of various sizes.

Xavier picked up two smaller glasses and began to pour a navy-blue liquid into them. “It’s a charm,” Xavier said casually as if it were common knowledge. “It won’t harm you. It simply nullifies magic.” He strode back across the room and lifted one of the glasses toward me.

“And I’m just supposed to believe you?” I huffed, my voice tinged with frustration. I clawed at the chain wrapped around my wrist again, my nails digging into my flesh in a futile attempt to loosen it. The metal only seemed to tighten its grip the more I struggled.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said with a bland indifference. “It won’t come off until I tell it to.” He placed the glass he had offered down on the nightstand beside me and sat at the end of his bed, facing me.

I eyed him and then looked at the drink. “It’s poisoned,” I said, and he raised another eyebrow at me.

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead,” Xavier retorted, and I glowered at his cocky tone. Citrus and cedar hung heavy in the air, and I hated that I enjoyed the smell of him.

“Apparently, my magic does what it wants. How do you know this will work on me?” I said, giving up on my attempt to free myself and crossing my arms over my chest.

Xavier crossed an ankle over his knee as he took a leisurely sip from his glass. I couldn’t help but bite my lip as I watched him. My instincts screamed that he was dangerous, that I should be scared. But I wasn’t, not really, and I wasn’t sure why. His eyes flicked to my mouth, and a self-satisfied smirk spread across his lips.

“I guess we will find out then, won't we?” he said, his voice carrying a hint of dark amusement.

“So, I am to be your prisoner then?” I hissed, and Xavier’s eyes darted back to mine, narrowing with a dangerous glint. My gaze flicked to the dagger, now discarded on the bed. How had I missed that before? I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting to draw attention to it.

“For now,” Xavier murmured, his voice smooth and almost amused. With a casual wave of his hand, the dagger vanished, and I cursed under my breath.

“How did you do that if your brother has your magic?” I demanded, eyeing him curiously.

“I still have my basic magic, and as king, the castle allows me to use its magic as well,” Xavier said, shifting uncomfortably.

The castle had magic? I tucked that information away for later and stepped closer. Xavier stiffened as I approached, and I thrust my arm forward. “Take this off me, now,” I hissed, my voice sharp with the command.

“Are you always this demanding?” he asked, his lips twitching at his question. I had asked him something similar when we first met.

“It appears so,” I retorted, narrowing my eyes back at him.

“I will remove it when I get my answers,” Xavier replied calmly, taking another leisurely sip from his glass. I cried out in frustration and flopped down at the opposite end of the bed, letting out a huff.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, but I snapped my head toward him. “Do you plan on killing your brother?” I asked, and Xavier’s eyes sharpened.

“That is yet to be decided.” He scoffed, bitterness lacing his tone.

“All because he took your magic?” I scoffed back.

“Because he took part of my soul,” Xavier snapped, his eyes flashing a fierce yellow.

My eyes widened in surprise. His soul?

Xavier laughed bitterly. “I guess he didn’t tell you everything. Yes, little stalker, he has part of my soul.”

“How?” I asked, stunned by this new information.

“Our magic comes from our souls,” Xavier explained, his face twisting in disgust. “He ripped my magic from my body, and in the process, he tore and took a part of my soul.”

I stared at him, my brows furrowing in confusion. “Did he know that would happen?”

Xavier laughed again, but it was cold and unkind. “Of course he did. Came in the night like a coward.” He scoffed.

“Its ancient forbidden magic he used. Bargaining with dark power that should be left unstirred.” Xavier whispered more to himself. “Used our father’s pocket watch to bind the spell, to trap my soul with his.”

I blinked. The pocket watch… Jaxon had been holding it so gently the other night, his fingers tracing the emerald gem set in its ornate silver casing, a look of deep regret in his eyes.

There was a knock at the door, and I stiffened, looking at Xavier with wide eyes. He seemed unfazed, almost as if he had been expecting someone. Was he expecting someone?

The realization that he had been naked and in bed when I had arrived made my stomach flip. Was he expecting someone…In bed?

“I should go,” I said stupidly, standing up and quickly remembering that wasn’t an option.

“Sit, Zara,” Xavier said, his tone unexpectedly soothing. The way he spoke my name, with such a velvety touch, made my insides flutter despite the situation. I hesitated before slowly sitting back on the bed, my gaze fixed nervously on the door.

He wasn’t going to let them in, was he? I didn’t know why it bothered me. I didn’t care for this male, and he was a king, after all. Hell, he had thought I was a prostitute when we first met. Clearly, he was used to women coming to his room at all hours.

My cheeks flushed at the memory, and Xavier watched me curiously, his eyes searching mine briefly before shouting into the room. “Come in, Julian,” Xavier boomed, and I jumped slightly as the door opened, and a curly-haired blonde male walked in.

His square glasses magnified his dark eyes as he focused intently on a piece of parchment in his hand. His other hand moved dramatically across its surface, seeming to write or scratch at something we couldn’t see.

Julian walked further into the room, his eyes still fixed on the parchment in his hand. His light brown jacket draped loosely over his narrow frame, accentuating his slight build. His wrinkled white shirt, partially open, gave him a disheveled appearance. His pants matched the jacket, and his fuzzy slip-on shoes seemed out of place for his current outfit.

“Good, you are still awake,” Julian began, “I just got word that there was an ambush in the southern territory along the Niverrian border.” He sighed heavily but continued, “Lord Gunnar and his men, in their travels here, were able to stop the attack, and there were minimal casualties.” Julian flipped over the parchment and continued, “They managed to kill all the Daka, and they captured one witch.” Julian let out a snort of a laugh. “Gunnar wrote he was bringing her here to be interrogated, but we will see if she makes it here when he arrives…” Julian trailed off as he finally lifted his gaze from the parchment.

His eyes widened as they landed on me, and he quickly darted his gaze to Xavier. “And you have company; I am so sorry,” he said, turning to leave. But he hesitated, turning back with a puzzled expression. “But wait, you told me to come in?”

“It's fine, Julian. Continue with the report,” Xavier said, his stare never leaving my face. I felt just as anxious and confused as Julian. Why was he letting me hear this?

“Okayyyyy.” Julian stretched out the word but resumed with his report. “The village will need extra men to help repair damages, and I have already sent a letter to the nearest camp to provide aid.” He paused, glancing nervously between us. “And, um, we are all set for tomorrow, Your Majesty.”

Julian bent at the waist, his posture uneven, as he flared his arms out, and it seemed he wasn’t quite sure where to place them.

Xavier started to cough on his drink, seeming to choke on the liquid as Julian stood normally again. “What was that?” Xavier laughed, his tone light, almost teasing.

Julian looked flustered. “Well, I don’t know. There’s an unknown woman in your room who smells confusing, and I’m panicking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He shot a concerned glance at Xavier. “Do I need to get the twins?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell them about this anyway.” Xavier sighed, running a hand through his inky black hair. “Julian, this is Zara. Zara, this is Julian, my apparently flustered advisor.”

Xavier stood, and I followed, causing him to pause. I narrowed my eyes, lifted my chin, and walked over to the slender man, whose eyes widened further as I approached. I extended my hand in greeting. “Nice to make your acquaintance.”

Julian eyed the chain around my arm, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease as he took my hand, shaking it briefly before letting go. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Zara,” he said, flashing me a wolfish grin.

Xavier moved to my side, his hand brushing mine briefly as he did. He quickly jerked his hand away, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

Julian noted the movement, and something flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Xavier cut him off, holding his hand out for the parchment. “I'll find you later, Julian,” Xavier said and Julian's mouth closed abruptly as he looked between us, questions lingering in his gaze.

I didn’t blame him.

Julian handed the parchment to Xavier and slowly backed toward the door. “I’ll just go and wait for that conversation, then,” he said, flashing another nervous smile before closing the door behind him.

A muffled curse escaped through the closed door, and I couldn’t help but smile at the strange encounter. I turned back to Xavier, who was already watching me with a peculiar expression.

I quickly replaced my smile with a scowl. “What?” I barked, wishing Julian had stayed and hadn’t left me alone with this brute.

“Nothing,” Xavier grumbled, crossing to the desk on the other side of the fireplace. He tucked the piece of parchment into a drawer, and I noted the drawer’s location as I let my eyes wander over the room.

“Are Daka attacks a frequent occurrence here?” I asked, my curiosity piqued by Julian’s report. Xavier leaned against his desk, facing me as he took another sip of his drink.

“Yes,” Xavier admitted begrudgingly, a reminder of his usual reluctance to share information.

“They are horrible creatures,” I said, shivering at the memory of the beast that had attacked me.

Xavier straightened, his tone turning icy. “You’ve encountered one?”

I flinched at my slip of information and reluctantly recounted what had happened in the castle. Xavier’s anger built as I spoke, and when I was done, he hurled his glass across the room. It shattered against the stone wall, causing me to flinch once more.

“It wasn’t his fault,” I retorted sharply, trying to protect Jaxon.

Xavier’s gaze shifted, and shadows seemed to coil around him, darkening his presence. “You protect him?” he spat, his voice laced with a bitter edge. “After he almost got you killed?” He scoffed, his face twisting into a mask of contempt.

“Yes,” I snapped back, my irritation spiking. “You wouldn’t even let him explain that day. If you had, maybe—”

“—maybe what?” Xavier’s laugh was harsh. “I know what he did, I know—”

“But you don’t know why,” I interrupted, my voice low and fierce. His anger only fueled mine as I stepped closer, narrowing the space between us. His towering form loomed over me, and his emerald eyes blazed with challenge.

“Why don’t you enlighten me then?” he hissed.

Xavier raised his hand and snapped his fingers. I saw movement from the corner of my eye, and I turned in time to see the shattered glass from mere moments ago reassemble and sit intact on the floor. Xavier tore his fiery gaze from mine and picked it up off the ground, striding to the other side of the room.

The silence stretched as he poured more of that dark navy liquid, the sound filling the glass the only thing breaking the tension.

I watched as he moved across the room, my gaze drifting, catching on something above the fireplace. A large painting of a family dominated the wall, its golden, ornate frame gleaming in the firelight.

In the center stood a striking man, his presence exuding undeniable authority. His ink-black hair was slicked back, and he had a shimmering black crown atop his head. He protectively held a petite, dark-haired woman in his arm, her flowing white gown contrasting with his dark, regal uniform. Beside them, a taller boy with matching inky locks stared out with a stern, determined expression, dressed in attire that mirrored his father’s. The woman’s delicate hand rested gently on the shoulder of a younger boy; his tousled blonde hair was messy, and he stared out of the frame with innocent golden eyes.

I walked across the room to get a better look, and my heart pounded in my chest as I got closer.

Xavier watched me, a curious expression on his face.

“Who is that woman?” I asked, my throat tight, the question barely escaping past the dryness in my mouth.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “My mother,” he answered, his voice clipped as if the response should be obvious. He hesitated, then added, more quietly, “She died shortly after this was painted.”

My pulse thrummed in my ears, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the painting. It wasn’t just the woman’s familiar face that caught my eye. No, it was the amulet, the golden-red one meticulously painted around her neck.

My stomach twisted.

“I’ve seen that woman before,” I whispered, my nightmare from the other night flashing in my mind. “When I was a child.”

Xavier shook his head at me. “That’s impossible,” he said, “She died nearly four centuries ago.”

The room seemed smaller suddenly, the air becoming denser.

“Then why is she wearing my mother’s necklace?”