CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ROZLYN
Silver metal vines hung along the walls, flames crackled in a fireplace before an empty furred rug, and familiar furniture surrounded Rozlyn. No longer was she standing inside Souldark’s castle of bones, but she was now in Nightshade’s manor with the ferryman’s arm still planted around her waist.
Rozlyn easily broke free of his grasp and whirled to face him. “We’re at your manor,” she breathed as she recalled the words he’d spoken to Haven only moments ago. I do believe a bargain is a bargain.
“And so we are, princess.” Nightshade smirked, sauntering toward her. “Haven promised you to me once he became Lord of Souldark, so where else would we go?”
Princess . He knew her secret lineage... Had Haven truly promised her to Nightshade?
Rozlyn studied the black tattoo on her wrist that had replaced the marriage cuff to Haven. An eye in the center of a crescent moon. Was the curse between her and the Marquis of Shadows entirely lifted? She hadn’t even felt the cuff vanish, had only noticed the new mark when Nightshade held up her wrist for Haven to see.
She quickly unbound her hair, yanking out pins and tossing them to the floor. When a few locks fell down her back, she drew one over her shoulder and gasped. Her hair was the color of a thousand suns again—no longer blood red.
Rozlyn would ignore the fact that Nightshade had called her princess. She wasn’t certain if he’d uncovered the truth himself or if Haven had told him… Her heart clenched—he was the only one who could’ve given him that information. Madam never would.
“You mentioned a bargain between you and Haven. That I was given to you. What do you mean?” she asked, her heart knocking against her ribs. Knock. Knock. Knock . Soon, she believed they might crack if her heart raced any harder.
“Ah, that,” Nightshade purred while wearing a wide grin. “So you want to get right down to the business of it all.” He grasped one of the two full glasses of wine from the table and brought it to his lips, taking a slow sip. So incredibly slow as he smirked at her again. “You were just a pawn for the marquis. Everyone and everything is to him. He uses up those who will help him, then tosses aside anyone who isn’t an asset to his sorcery. He came to me with quite the offer, you see, and didn’t think twice when he traded you so he could reunite with his match. Someone he believes is more useful to him. But I’m not like Haven—I believe you’re useful, Roz. And not to just break a curse.”
His words slammed into Rozlyn like a stone to the chest. Yet one thing he said couldn’t be allowed. “Traded?” Rozlyn frowned. “A courtesan of my madam’s brothel can’t be sold without consent.”
“You weren’t sold, you were traded. Besides, you’re in Souldark, sweetheart. Rules are different here than in Dawnbreak. I didn’t suggest the bargain, but I wasn’t going to turn it down. Anyone in my position would’ve accepted.” He shrugged and again leisurely drank from his glass while watching her, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Forget about Haven. He was always meant for Vivienne. The matchmaker told him so, and that’s his fault for being foolish enough to allow someone to choose for him. Unlike me—I’m choosing you .”
Rozlyn stepped away from him, even though she didn’t believe him to be wicked. She needed to reason with him before she left his home. Bargain or not, she wasn’t the one who’d made it. “I’m sorry if this hurts your feelings, Nightshade, but I’m not choosing you.”
“Not yet, but you will.” Nightshade sat on the settee and leaned back, then patted the cushion beside him. “Let me explain something.”
There was nothing to explain that would change her mind, but she sank down next to him, so she could let him down gently once he finished. It was something she’d had to do with patrons in the past, and while sometimes they still wished for her to love them, they hadn’t tried to further pursue or hurt her. But most feared Madam’s wrath.
“I have a little story for you, Roz.” His arm slid across the top of the settee behind her, but he didn’t curve it around her shoulders. “Unlike Haven and Vivienne, you and I are truly a perfect match. Why? We’re both bastard royalty. Both shunned. Both dreaming of things we can’t have. Both fuck as a necessity. You for coin. Me for other reasons. And I promise I will treat you as the queen you should be. We should settle in at the Dawnbreak Palace to start fresh. Think about it.”
Rozlyn’s eyes widened. Settle in at the palace ? He meant to use her so they could rule Dawnbreak? She angled her head to the side and pressed her fingertips together, pretending to mull it over. “I thought about it, and no thank you. The palace isn’t my home. It’s not where I want to live my life.” With a pat farewell to his shoulder, she politely left Nightshade to himself and opened the door. Her breath halted in her lungs as she stared at the iron bars blocking her exit.
She gripped the cold bars and yanked on them to no avail. With what strength she had, she attempted to pry the iron apart. Nothing. No luck. It didn’t even budge.
Rozlyn whirled around to find Nightshade tapping his fingers against the back of the settee while he watched her with a smirk.
“Remove these, please,” she asked sweetly, her pulse racing beneath her calm demeanor.
Nightshade stood from the couch and stretched his back, then gingerly prowled toward her. “These?” He pointed toward the iron and trailed a finger across one.
“Yes.”
The ferryman didn’t remove or open them but walked straight through the bars. He turned to look at her with his widest grin yet. “Think about our future some more. Time is aplenty since I no longer have a duty to ferry souls to the gods. We’ll have this discussion again when I return. And don’t worry, Roz—what’s mine is yours in the manor. Feel free to do anything you like.”
“Nightshade!” Rozlyn shouted. She grabbed the bars, trying to shake them off the door. “Let me out of here!”
Without glancing back at her, he waved a farewell. Even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was still smirking.
Rozlyn had been right about the ferryman being lonely. That was clear. But she wouldn’t destroy the royal family by shoving herself and Nightshade into the palace to claim their stakes in Dawnbreak. A small amount of hope, and foolish others would say, but maybe, after everything, Haven would regret the bargain he’d made. Perhaps even come for her as he had with the shadows inside the cavern, but she had been linked to Haven at the time. He’d needed her then, yet he didn’t need her any longer. Did his kiss to her mean nothing? Or was it a kiss goodbye? She knew how others would feel about him. But she couldn’t bring herself to loathe him. Sometimes she wished she didn’t have a heart at all, that it would be simpler than allowing hurt to wash over oneself.
Rozlyn couldn’t focus on feelings now—she needed to find a way to escape Nightshade’s manor. She grasped her skirts and inspected every inch of his home, throwing open door after door, discovering all the windows to be barred too. Rozlyn kicked at each one, yet it did no good. Nightshade might not be a sorcerer, but he certainly had tricks up his sleeve.
She fled up the staircase to the second floor to find the window in each room mirrored the others. The last room she checked was Nightshade’s bedroom, and when she did, a whirlwind of images from the night with Haven poured over her. Nightshade’s sheets had been replaced, but she could still smell a faint hint of Haven’s citrus.
Rozlyn rested her forehead against the window bars. The Marquis of Shadows’ tower had been a prison too, yet this was much different. The cuff linked to Haven had been temporary, something she’d known since the beginning. But this tattoo? It would be forever. Could weaken an entire court, destroy the royal family.
As time passed, Rozlyn pounded the walls to see if she could break through them, yet they were as hard as steel. She couldn’t wiggle through the small chimney in the fireplace either. If anything, she wagered there were bars at the top anyhow.
No matter when or where Rozlyn was, she always found solace in stitching a fabric square, except for this one instance. Instead, she hovered by the door, for hours , until footsteps echoed outside it. As Nightshade stepped over the threshold, Rozlyn stuck out her foot and watched him trip to the floor with a loud curse. She flipped him to his back before pressing her dagger to his throat in the same way she had with Haven, only this time she would make him bleed.
Fear didn’t stir in his gaze as a grin spread his cheeks. “So, riling you up a little is all it takes to get you in this position?”
“My blade will carve a smile across your throat if you don’t make the bars disappear,” Rozlyn snapped.
“Slit my throat, stab me in the heart, do what you wish because I can’t die. I’m immortal,” he purred. “If we marry and consummate, I’ll make you immortal too. Think about it.”
Rozlyn sliced the blade across his throat. Even though his flesh split open and blood oozed out, his bemused expression didn’t change. His skin closed in mere moments, proving that he was truly the son of a god.
“That wasn’t very nice.” Nightshade chuckled and lifted her off him. He left back through the bars, ticking his finger at her. “I believe you need more time to think.”
“Nightshade!” she shouted through the bars. “This is another curse. I won’t change my mind!”
Rozlyn waited, and waited, and waited for Nightshade to return for two days. She’d slept, then ate and drank from his magical kitchen. The little hope she’d held that Haven would change his mind had vanished. She should’ve known as soon as Nightshade told her there was a bargain. Still, she’d hoped. Even if Haven didn’t love her, she believed he thought of her as a friend. But friends didn’t bargain with each other’s freedom.
Her madam had been right. Loving a patron would not end well.
Her heart felt as if it might need stitching, but she couldn’t reach inside to mend it. Tears gathered in her lashes, and she held back a sob. But when her chest tightened further, she cried, cried as she had after her mother had left her like unwanted soggy porridge.
The door opened, and Rozlyn jerked up, taking her hands from her face. Nightshade slipped inside as if he hadn’t just left her ensnared in his home. The smile fell from his face when he glanced in her direction. “You’re crying.”
“I can’t stay here,” she sobbed. “I want to go home. I want to see my family. I want to make my friends dresses again.”
“Fuck me, Rozlyn,” he said gently, stepping closer to her. “I’ll give you all those things and more when we go to Dawnbreak. You can visit your family, make as many dresses as you want. I’ll pleasure you in ways that will make you forget the Marquis of Shadows ever existed.”
Rozlyn peered at the floor and whispered, “I’ll never love you.”
Nightshade lifted her chin, his obsidian eyes promising her his words. “And I’ll never love you. But, you and I, we’re one and the same.”