Chapter 41
41
RIORDAN
I braced myself against the heavy oak desk, my fingertips digging so hard into the wood that the grain was etched into my skin like a brand.
“Get out.” I hissed, and the voices inside my head surged, twisting my thoughts, curling through my mind like poisonous smoke. I tried to drown them out, to cling to something real, but they only grew louder, pushing against my will.
Tyrell’s rasping drone.
Another deep, male voice, strange and unfamiliar, echoing with endless power.
I hated to wonder whose voice that was, of who else was planted deep inside my head, whispering cruel, evil things until my mind was poisoned with them.
How they’d gotten inside.
Why I couldn’t evict them from my own head, no matter how hard I tried.
An hour ago—maybe hours, now—Blake had pounded on my door, but the magic had sealed the room off, as if it meant to hold me hostage. I’d tried shouting back, to tell him to get his ass in here and fucking rip this infection from my bones, but the darkness stole my voice.
Hell, the closest I’d felt to my old self was when I’d spotted the still-healing scar on Evangeline’s shoulder and a moment of pure fear had cleared my mind of everything else. Only for a moment, but the reprieve had been blessed—to see her, to smell her, to touch her.
Then this insidious darkness had swept back in, marched me straight in here and begun to cannibalize my mind.
"Get out," I murmured, my voice a rasp against the silence of the room. "You don’t belong here… This is my mind. My memories. Mine ." But even as I spoke, the magic writhed, a cold, oily sensation under the surface of my skin, sinking in deeper, like this power had grown claws.
In only a matter of days, Tyrell’s malicious power had seeped in deeper than I could have imagined, tainting my own white fire until they’d fused together.
Pure magic…and something insidiously evil.
Now I could hardly tell them apart. My magic had once been a blaze of power, fierce and bright, fueled by noble ideals and my iron will. Now those white flames were contaminated, every dark flicker poisoned by crimson.
This new magic whispered secrets, dark, rasping voices chanting inside my head, day and night, hour after hour. I hadn’t slept in days, hadn’t eaten…in I don’t know how long .
I thought the price was worth the cost.
Up until last night, I’d believed I was invincible.
My plan had worked perfectly. Enemies and allies gathered under one roof, the inevitable, predictable attack, the awe-inspiring display of power Lord Romaric had demanded. The entire clan bowing, together, finally united. Every moment of last night’s plan had gone off perfectly…until I’d come here to be alone.
And the voices had begun dismembering my mind.
Only now did I realize the true horror of the inheritance I’d taken on. I’d believed I could control this new magic, as if power was something I could mold in my hands like soft clay.
But instead, Tyrell’s power was molding me .
I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to blot out the whispers, but they grew louder, filling my head until pain splintered my thoughts. These weren't random voices—one was Tyrell’s. The other was a strange, echoing male voice that sounded so ancient, and so cruel. And somewhere, deep down, they were laughing. They’d planned for this magic to take root, tainting me from the inside out.
"Stop," I ground out, doubling over, protecting my sanity as red magic gnawed every thought away, bit by bit. "Leave me alone. You cannot have me ."
But that deep, cruel voice laughed louder—a hollow, echoing cackle that poisoned every corner of my mind. The pounding inside my head turned agonizing.
“Go the fuck away.” I screamed into the void. “I don’t fucking want you here.”
But he laughed. He wouldn’t fucking shut up.
With a surge of desperate strength, I summoned my fire magic, feeling the familiar ache burn beneath my skin as white heat gathered at my fingers. This was my real power, uncorrupted and pure, not a hint of crimson shadows. Blinding light filled the entire room, cold enough to blister, and for one, glorious moment, my magic was how it had always been.
Burn. Burn all the darkness away. I want to be as I was.
Untouched, pure, that numbing cold clearing my head, shoving the voices away so I could take one shuddering breath.
But just as quickly, the red magic surged back, coiling tight as an adder, crushing the white light from my flames until they guttered out. Until there was nothing left but red. I fell forward onto the desk, my hands gripping the edge as if the wood could somehow keep me anchored. But even that felt insubstantial, distant.
"Please," I whispered, though I didn’t know if I was begging the voices or the magic itself. My voice sounded hollow to my own ears, stripped of power. “I don’t know who you are, but give me back my mind.”
But the darkness only laughed, mocking me with every breath.
“Oh, you’ll know me soon enough, Riordan Graves,” that deep voice crawled beneath my skin, so close I could feel him. “You are mine now, just like the other one.”