Page 28 of Wicked Chains (Serpentine Academy #2)

Twenty-Six

Ash

I stand on the balcony overlooking the main quad, hands gripping the cold stone balustrade, watching as Rose emerges from the east wing.

From Lucien's quarters. Her cheeks are flushed, and even from this distance, I can see the slight disarray of her hair, the way her fingers keep drifting to her neck.

I know what happened in there. The blood mark binding us together ensures I know everything.

My grip tightens on the railing until my knuckles turn white. The stone beneath my fingers cracks slightly. Rose Smith, the witch who thinks she can defy me at every turn, is now collecting men like they're toys.

First the ghost, Drake. I thought I'd banished him properly, but somehow she pulled him back. I know they've been fucking.

Then Soren, the hellspawn who should know better than to touch what's mine.

That connection burns brighter, more recent.

Last night. I felt the moment he fed on her energy, the spike of power that surged through our bond as they climaxed together.

And not just the two of them, the ghost was there too. Sharing her. Taking what is mine.

And now Lucien. The vampire who just drank from her, tasted her blood, marking her in another, intimate way.

My teeth grind together as I watch her cross the quad, head high despite the way she must feel her own power draining.

These men, they're nothing but diversions, distractions from the truth, she belongs to me.

The blood contract makes it so. Her magic, her body, her very life, all mine to command, to use, to drain if I choose.

I push away from the railing, decision made. It's time she learned a lesson about defiance and the true nature of our arrangement.

My heavy boots leave wet prints on the stairs as I descend. By the time I reach the ground, Rose has made it halfway across the quad.

Students mill about in the freshly fallen snow, some making halfhearted attempts at snowballs, others taking photos of the winter wonderland for their social media. None of them matter. Only Rose matters.

I cut a direct path toward her, watching her face as she notices me approaching. Her steps falter just slightly, she still has some sense of self-preservation, but then she straightens her shoulders and continues forward. Defiant to the last. It's what makes her so worthy of breaking.

When we're ten feet apart, I stop directly in her path. Her eyes narrow, already on guard.

"Hello, sweet Rose," I say, letting my gaze travel slowly down her body and back up again. "Quite the busy week you've had."

She stiffens but holds her ground. "Get out of my way, Ash. I'm not in the mood for your games."

"Games? Is that what you think this is? A game?" I step closer, invading her personal space. "If so, you're playing a dangerous one with all your little pets."

A flash of anger crosses her face. "They're not pets. And who I spend my time with is none of your business. As I’ve made clear."

I reach out and trail a finger along her jawline, smirking when she flinches but doesn't step back. I lean in, my lips close to her ear. "I can smell the vampire on you. His blood mingles with yours now. Did you enjoy feeding him? Did it excite you to feel his fangs in your throat?"

She jerks her head away. "Fuck you."

I notice that we're starting to draw an audience.

Students have stopped their snow play to watch the drama unfolding.

"Yes, you've been very busy lately, haven't you?

The ghost, the incubus, and now the vampire.

Collecting the full set, are we? Should I expect you to add a werewolf next? Perhaps a banshee?"

Her cheeks flush red. "You're disgusting."

"I'm disgusting? I'm not the one spreading my legs for creatures of indiscriminate kind." The cruelty in my voice surprises even me, but jealousy burns hot. "Tell me, does it bother you that Drake might disappear forever mid-thrust? Or is that part of the excitement?"

Rose's hand comes up, ready to slap me, but I catch her wrist easily. "Careful now. You're already on thin ice."

"Let go of me," she demands, her voice steady despite the fear I can feel trembling through our connection.

I release her wrist but don't step back. "You think because you can share your body with these men that you have any power here? You think they can protect you from me?" I laugh. "They're temporary pleasures while you avoid the inevitable, Rose."

"And what's that?" she challenges, eyes flashing.

"That eventually, you'll come to me. That in the end, it's me you belong to." I gesture to her arm. "This binds you to me in ways you and your little menagerie can't begin to understand."

A crowd has definitely formed now, students watching with undisguised interest as the academy's strangest witch faces off against me. I spot Thorne among them, her cruel blue eyes alight with malicious glee, and Harry beside her, his beefy arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't belong to anyone," Rose says, loud enough for the onlookers to hear. "Not you, not the Blood Moon Coven, no one."

The dismissive note in her voice ignites something primal in me, a mixture of rage and desire.

"You need to be reminded of your place," I say softly, dangerously. "Follow me. Now."

She doesn't move, her stance widening slightly as if preparing for a fight. "No."

One word. So simple, yet so infuriating. Her refusal fans the flames of my anger higher, but it also excites me in a way I hadn't expected.

"No?" I repeat, my voice dropping low so that only she can hear. "You dare to refuse me? After everything you've learned about what I can do to you?"

"And I'm done being afraid of you."

A slow smile spreads across my face. "Oh, Rose. You sweet, na?ve little witch. Let me show you what happens to witches who don't obey."

I focus on the blood mark binding us together, on the connection that allows me to feel her every emotion, to know her every action.

I pull on that thread, sending my will through it like an electric current.

The response is immediate—Rose gasps, her eyes widening as pain lances up her arm from the mark.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, gripping her forearm where the mark burns beneath her sleeve.

"Teaching you a lesson," I reply, intensifying my focus. "Kneel."

She fights it, of course she does. Her body trembles with the effort of resisting my command. Sweat beads on her forehead despite the cold. But the blood mark cannot be denied. Her magic belongs to me.

Slowly, painfully, her knees begin to bend.

"Stop it," she demands.

"Kneel before me, Rose Smith," I whisper to her. "Show everyone who you truly belong to."

Her knees hit the snow with a soft thump, her body forced into submission even as her eyes are on fire with hatred. The crowd around us has grown, students whispering and pointing. I hear Thorne's mocking laughter, see Harry's smug grin. I see the anger in her eyes.

"There," I say. "Isn't this better? When you behave and accept your place?"

Rose's face burns with humiliation, but her eyes never leave mine. "I'll kill you for this," she says.

I laugh, genuinely amused by her threat. "With what? Your magic is mine to control. Every last drop. Whenever I want it. Just like you."

Something catches my attention from the corner of my eye, movement at the entrance to the east wing. Lucien has come out from the building and is watching the scene unfold, his normally impassive face twisted with barely contained rage. Our eyes lock, and I feel a surge of triumphant satisfaction.

I crouch down to Rose's level, taking her chin in my hand, forcing her to look at me. "Your vampire is watching," I murmur. "Shall we give him a show? Perhaps I should kiss you right now, while you're on your knees before me. Let him see what's coming."

"I'd bite your tongue off," she snarls.

My smile widens. "I'd heal. And then I'd punish you in ways that would make today seem like a kindness."

With deliberate slowness, I straighten up, releasing her chin but keeping her held in place by the mark's power. I turn slightly to ensure Lucien can see my face clearly, then smile directly at him, a challenge, and an invitation to interfere if he dares.

Then, with a casual command of my will, I release Rose from my compulsion, allowing her to stand. The abruptness of it nearly makes her tumble, but she catches herself, dignity somehow intact despite everything.

"Remember this moment, Rose," I say quietly. "Remember how easily I can control you, how quickly your defiance crumbles. The men you surround yourself with cannot protect you from me. Your choices will be your end.”

She says nothing, her chest heaving. Without another word, she turns and walks away, head high despite the whispers and stares that follow her.

I remain where I am, watching her go, aware that Lucien still stands at the entrance to the building, watching me watching her. When I finally turn to meet his gaze again, the hatred in his eyes is palpable.

I merely smirk in response, a silent message passing between us. She's mine. No matter what he does, no matter how much of her blood you drink or how many times she shares your bed, she will always be mine.

The vampire's hands clench into fists at his sides, but he makes no move toward me.

I turn away, satisfaction coursing through me as I head back toward the administrative wing. Let Rose run to her lovers for comfort. Let them soothe her wounded pride and kiss away her humiliation. In the end, it changes nothing.

The blood mark ensures that Rose Smith belongs to me. And soon, very soon, she'll learn to embrace it.