Page 21 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Zara

I remembered pain and the gentle way Xavier had stroked my face. My arm still hurt, but the pain was manageable now, causing only a light discomfort. I shifted, and my head stung. I definitely drank way too much wine.

“Hello, Zara.” My mother’s silky voice rang out in the room, and my eyes shot open, heart racing. I tried to move, but my wrists and ankles were bound, tethered tightly to a hard surface beneath me.

Cold darkness greeted me, and a flash of light erupted a few feet away. I squinted against the burning light that had come to life on a nearby wall, illuminating the room in a warm glow. The warmth of the newly lit fire barely reached me from where I now lay, tied to a cold wooden table.

I thrashed against the bindings, my wrists and ankles straining against the ropes. Each movement made them dig deeper into my skin, sending sharp bursts of pain through my injured arm.

“What is going on?!” I asked into the darkness, trying to find where my mother’s voice had come from.

She emerged from the shadows at my side, and her face was twisted into a sneer. Winnie’s blonde hair was loose and hanging down over her shoulders, and my eyes darted to her necklace, but it wasn’t there.

Her eyes narrowed as she noticed my gaze. “Looking for something?” she purred, her lips curling into a cruel, mocking smile.

“What’s going on, Mother?”

Her expression soured, her smile slipping away. “Don’t call me that. You know how I hate it.”

“Why am I tied up, Winnie?” I asked, my voice wavering with panic.

She arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “Don’t you already know?” Her gaze flicked toward a corner of the room, and a snickering laugh echoed behind me. Her eyes narrowed sharply at the sound, silencing whoever was there.

“Who is that?” I twisted my head, trying to peer into the shadows. The firelight caught the greasy sheen of Spencer’s hair, making it gleam with an unsettling luster. The firelight revealed his rat-like features, and he grinned down at me with a sneer that made my skin crawl.

Winnie rolled her eyes, and with a sharp pop, a chair materialized beside the table. She lowered herself into it, crossing her legs.

“You have magic,” I said through clenched teeth, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Of course I do,” Winnie retorted, her tone sharp.

Spencer’s quiet chuckle floated through the air, accompanied by the sound of rummaging behind me. I strained to glimpse what he was doing, but the dim light offered no answers. My heartbeat quickened as I turned my gaze back to Winnie, who regarded me with detached boredom.

“I’ve been here before as a child,” I said, recognizing the room from my nightmare.

Winnie’s eyebrows arched slightly in mild surprise. “You were just as difficult back then,” she remarked, her tone laced with indifference.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice quivering as I glanced nervously at Spencer, now visible, mixing various liquids with slow precision.

Winnie remained silent but let a cruel smile curve her lips. My attention was drawn downward as I felt something cool and silky brush against my leg. Black shadowy tendrils were beginning to move up my body.

“Stop!” I screamed, my voice breaking as desperation clawed its way up my throat. I thrashed violently against the restraints, but it was useless. The ropes bit into my skin, cruel and unyielding. Then, like living smoke, the shadows surged forward, coiling around my neck.

“Mother, stop!” I choked out, barely able to form the words. But the shadows only tightened, constricting further.

Spencer’s mocking voice echoed through the room, “Mother.” His laughter was dark, and Winnie’s smile widened as she met my desperate gaze. The shadows around my throat abruptly vanished, leaving me gasping for air.

Winnie stood and circled the table, her steps measured and deliberate. She leaned over me, her gaze cold and calculating as she smoothed a lock of hair away from my face with a chilling tenderness. “I'm not your mother, dear, though I did raise you.”

The words sliced through me like a jagged blade. My breath caught, and my chest tightened as if the air itself had turned to stone. “What?” The word came out brittle, my voice barely audible. The room tilted, nausea churning in my gut.

She rubbed her neck where the necklace used to be before turning to Spencer. He held out a vial filled with a thick, black liquid, and Winnie took it, putting it in her pocket.

If she wasn’t my mother, who was?

“Why?” The question escaped me, though it barely scratched the surface of all the ones burning in my mind.

“Revenge, of course,” she said, almost purring.

“What have I ever done to you?!” I spat, my words escaping in a desperate plea.

“Not you, you fool. Them.” Winnie sneered, her gaze hardening as she turned away from me. She began to circle the table again, her steps slow and calculated. Her eyes would flick back to me every so often, a predatory glint in their depths. “I’ve waited centuries for this moment, and I’m not about to let you ruin it,” she spat, her words sharp and vicious. My stomach churned at the realization of what she was implying.

“No,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Morgana,” I gritted out, the name feeling like a cold weight settling in my chest. Winnie’s smile widened in cruel satisfaction at my words, and the blood drained from my face.

“Have you found my book yet?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Like I’d tell you,” I spat, the words laced with venom.

She only smirked, unbothered. “Shame. It doesn't matter… the other one is still searching. We'll find it, one way or another.”

“What other one?” I demanded.

“Never you mind, dear.” Her expression shifted, eyes glazing over as though her mind wandered elsewhere.

“What am I doing here?” I barked, thrashing again against the restraints holding me to the table.

Morgana sighed, her patience wearing thin. “Everything was going to plan, but your magic keeps interfering with mine,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous. “Every time you shadow away, my magic reacts. Every time you get a strong feeling, it reacts. You shouldn’t have control over my magic. And yet…” Her gaze sharpened, lips curling in distaste. “You summoned a Daka the other day.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our little fight… it flared your magic— our magic.” Her words hung in the air like a threat, heavy and suffocating.

“You ripped my soul,” I whispered, the realization sending a shiver down my spine.

Morgana’s lips twisted into a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming with a cruel pleasure. “Luckily, Spencer found a way to patch the spell without unraveling everything. And we shouldn't have any more issues.”

She waved a hand dismissively, her tone turning cold. “You, of course, won’t remember any of this. You’ll wake up in your bed, none the wiser.”

She chuckled lightly. “The captain will be pleased you're back,” she said with a scoff, “poor boy.” Her gaze locked onto mine, probing, searching. “Does he know you’re attracted to his brother?”

My heart skipped, her words knocking the air from my lungs. My eyes widened, thrown completely off guard. How did she know about them?

“Such a shame how that will all play out,” she added with a cold, sharp laugh.

“What are you talking about?” I growled, my body tense with anger and dread.

“Oh, I wouldn't want to ruin the fun.” Her voice turned sickeningly sweet, and in one swift move, she lunged at me, seizing my hair in a vicious grip. My head slammed into the table with a sickening crack, pain splintering through my skull. Her hand clamped down on my chin, forcing it open as a thick, inky liquid poured down my throat. I choked, gagging as I spat out what I could, panic flooding my veins.

No… no, no, no. What had she just given me?

“And now the memory potion.” Morgana smiled, holding her hand to Spencer, who placed another vial in her grasp.

“Stop!” I shrieked, but it was too late. She yanked my head back again, her grip like iron. Just as she moved to pour the second potion down my throat, a powerful gust of wind roared through the room.

The door burst open with a deafening slam, and Morgana flew backward, crashing to the floor. The vial shattered on impact, exploding in a burst of glass and liquid.

Spencer’s anguished cry pierced the air as he scrambled toward Morgana, who was now on her feet and glaring toward the door.

Still looking like the captain, Jaxon stood in the doorway, his gaze locked onto Morgana with a fierce, unyielding glare. With a swift slash of his hand, the bindings around my wrists and ankles disintegrated.

I leaped from the table, my heart racing as I stumbled toward him. His hand was outstretched, and I lunged forward, gripping his hand desperately as he tugged me behind him.

“I thought we had taken care of you,” she snapped, glaring at Spencer, who shrank away from her gaze.

Dark spears of magic shot through the air, hurtling toward us with deadly intent. Jaxon summoned his shadows to intercept the attack, and they clashed together, exploding with a burst of light on impact.

Jaxon shifted suddenly, and in a blur of movement, he transformed into his Fae form. “Give the princess back her magic, you witch,” he commanded.

My magic…

Morgana seemed to pause, staring at Jaxon in his new, enlarged form.

Jaxon’s gaze flickered to Spencer, who had been inching around the table toward us. Shadows snaked from Jaxon’s hands, spearing toward Spencer with deadly precision. They wrapped around his body, trapping Spencer in their suffocating embrace.

Spencer’s muffled cries for help were abruptly silenced, and his body crumpled to the floor, the thud reverberating through the tense air.

That easily, he had killed him. My heart pounded in my chest, and my eyes widened at the sight of Spencer’s lifeless body.

Despite my panic, one thought kept echoing in my mind—my magic.

Morgana seemed to snap out of her trance at the sight of Spencer’s lifeless corpse and roared, spearing more magic our way.

Jaxon met her attacks blow for blow, and the room erupted into clashes of noise and light. He moved across the room, his magic echoing hers as they danced around the space. I kept behind him with each step and I felt useless as their magic exploded around us.

I watched as they fought, and I had to do something. I had to try.

She had my magic. My soul.

My skin burned with rage, and I raised my chin in determination. This woman had lied to me, violated me and it was enough.

I held out my palm, adrenaline pumping through my body as I tried to call to it—my magic. Please, please, please, let this work. I put every ounce of will and thought into creating something, anything.

Morgana’s eyes landed on me, and she laughed mockingly at my outstretched hand. Her laughter, however, abruptly halted when something landed in my palm. A red gem encased in gold glowed brightly, and dark mist swirled away from it.

My eyes widened in recognition—her amulet.

A faint pulse radiated from it, its rhythm like a heartbeat—slow and disturbingly familiar. It tugged at me, a sensation that both terrified and calmed me. Dark magic thrummed within it, I could feel it and yet there was something else. Something that felt like home. A strange, twisted comfort laced with shadows.

The realization crashed over me like an icy wave. I knew, without a single doubt, deep in the marrow of my bones—that this... this contained my soul.

Morgana’s wail of frustration pierced the air, and Jaxon tackled me to the ground as magic shot above me. He rolled us out of the way of the incoming attack, quickly deflecting another blow as we rolled to our feet.

He grabbed my injured arm, and I screamed in pain, his eyes widening a fraction as he noticed my bandages. But before he could react, Morgana struck again, a dark spear hitting Jaxon’s leg.

He let out a gasp of pain as he fell to his knee with a disturbing crunch.

“No!” I screamed, flinging myself in front of him. His arm slammed into the back of my knee, sending me crashing to the floor just as another spear of darkness whizzed past us, mere inches from my head.

Jaxon cursed under his breath, and Morgana’s mocking laughter echoed through the room. We were nearly under the table, and I could see her feet as she prowled around it.

I glanced up at Jaxon, his golden eyes finding mine. A fierce resolve settled deep inside me. I had to try. Gripping the amulet tightly in my palm, I focused all my energy on its power.

Morgana stepped into view, her eyes locked on me with cold and calculating intent.

“Go to hell,” I spat, my voice steady despite the fear twisting in my gut. Relief washed over me as I saw darkness begin to swirl around us.

Blinding pain erupted in my shoulder as the world around me dissolved into shadows.