Chapter 4 Signed in Blood #2
“I will sign your precious contract, in blood and sworn by the Moon. Then you will sign King Lucian’s. Do we have an agreement?”
As I gave her a brusque nod, I felt a surge of triumph, of pride. I had outwitted Arabesque, forced her to agree to my terms. I had proven to myself that I didn’t need magic to come out on top. My wit would do.
Oh, I knew she’d be out for blood, want revenge, might even find a way to outmaneuver me, but I had won freedom for Josslyn and Brumous. No matter what fate had in store for me, they at least were safe.
And that made everything absolutely worth it in the end.
#
Arabesque Harrow Bell
I sat behind my desk, the dim glow of my reading lamp casting long shadows across the polished wood.
My daughters, Amabel and Eluned, stood in the doorway, their silhouettes sharp against the brighter hallway light.
The sudden summons after dinner had clearly piqued their curiosity, although they masked it well. Or tried to.
“Come in, darlings,” I said, my voice smooth like silk mingled with a hint of honey. I motioned them closer, relishing the way their expressions danced between excitement and trepidation. “We need to discuss something quite important.”
Amabel moved with the grace of a predator, her sharp features illuminated by the dim light.
Her eyes, cold and calculating, met mine without flinching.
Beside her, Eluned shifted, her softer features framed by a tumble of vibrant hair.
She had already begun to fidget, her wide eyes darting around the room as if seeking answers from the dust motes swirling in the lamplight.
“Is it about the new wards you’re experimenting with?” Amabel asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Something far more thrilling,” I replied, leaning forward, letting a small smile play upon my lips. “Serafina has signed a marriage contract.”
Silence stretched for a moment before the laughter began. A delighted cackle from Eluned, a sharp giggle from Amabel.
“Oh, that is precious,” Amabel said between breaths. “Worthless? Married off? To whom, some crusty old warlock desperate enough to take a milkmaid witchling?”
“No, no. Not at all! She’s marrying one of King Lucian’s sons.”
“Wed into the royal court?” Eluned hissed. “Why should she be honored like that?”
“Honored?” I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “No, no, my darlings, you misunderstand. She is being used, of course. A pawn, no more than that. A sacrificial lamb, if you will.”
That silenced them both. Amabel’s brows rose in surprise as Eluned narrowed her eyes, and I waited for them to process it, curious to see which of them would realize the full scope of my design.
Once Serafina was married off to some insipid vampire prince, I’d have a direct line into the royal court.
While chipping away at King Julian’s werewolf kingdom, I could monitor King Lucian’s, and soon both thrones would be within my grasp.
And my poor stepdaughter. She actually thought she was escaping. Being brave. Showing spirit.
Unfortunately for her, it was only a temporary reprieve.
For her and that baby.
I had no need for the infant at the moment.
I’d allowed Serafina to bear the burden of sleepless nights and soiled linens, of teething wails and clumsy little hands grasping for comfort.
I had neither the patience nor the inclination to coddle something so fragile, not when my time was far better spent securing my own power.
And now others could soften the girl with lullabies and love before I claimed what was rightfully mine.
If she was anything like her father, the girl would be weak.
Too kind, too trusting. Jonathan had been a fool, blinded by love at first and convinced I had been his to keep.
A shame, really. He had been beautiful before I locked him down and drained him dry.
If his daughter inherited even a sliver of his docility, she would never be a threat.
But power? Power could be sharpened.
When the time came, I would see to it that her purpose was fulfilled. Despite Serafina’s best efforts, that baby belonged to me and always would.
“And the groom?” Amabel prompted after a moment, tilting her head with curiosity.
“I don’t know which of his sons the king will choose,” I admitted, “but I know he won’t be kind. None of them are. They’re all monsters. And that, my dears, is where the true fun begins.”
Eluned snorted, a sound that was both elegant and ridiculously dramatic.
“I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. Although, I must admit, it’s rather disappointing to lose our favorite pastime.”
I understood what Eluned meant, of course. How delightful it had been to watch them toy with Serafina over the years, setting her up for tiny tumbles, orchestrating moments where she faltered or failed miserably.
“I imagine you have a role for us to play in this,” Amabel prompted after a moment.
“Of course.” I steepled my fingers beneath my chin. “As her drivers, you must ensure that our darling Serafina understands the importance of first impressions when she arrives at her new home.”
I paused, letting the word hang in the air, watching as understanding dawned on their faces. Amabel tapped a nail against her chin, and Eluned’s grin widened like a cat who just spotted a trapped mouse.
“Are you suggesting we make her entrance unforgettable?” Amabel asked, a calculating smile creeping across her lips.
“Precisely. She must make a grand appearance. Think of it as a welcoming gift for her new husband.”
“I love a good spectacle!” Eluned exclaimed, bouncing slightly in her seat, her laughter bubbling like champagne.
“Oh, this is going to be fun! Serafina, her papa’s little princess, making a scene before she even meets her husband!
One, two, we’re coming for you. Three, four, hit you with the door. ”
“Good,” I interrupted her song and leaned back, exhaling in satisfaction. “I expect no complications.”
And there wouldn’t be.
Unless…
A ridiculous thought wormed its way into my mind. What if the vampire prince was Serafina’s mate? Shifter blood ran in her veins, even without a wolf spirit. Or worse, what if he claimed her as his beloved? The odds were laughable, but fate did have a cruel sense of humor.
I shook the notion away. Impossible. Irrelevant.
“Consider it done, Mother!” Eluned cackled as Amabel grinned, and I nodded at their amusement.
They thought they understood the game, but they only saw the surface. They thought this was about Seri, about the baby, about power. And it was, but it was so much more. It was about control. Always, it was about control.
I studied them, considering. They were vicious and cruel, but unrefined.
By the time I was their age, I had already spilled blood, claimed power, and secured my rule over the Harrow coven.
I had driven a dagger into my own mother’s heart without hesitation, all to ensure my rightful place at the head of our lineage.
And yet, these girls? They still lacked true cunning.
They enjoyed cruelty, but they did not yet understand the weight of it.
I had no tolerance for weakness, and my daughters knew it.
They were tools, extensions of my will, and I would stop at nothing to ensure they remained loyal.
The focus on their stepsister had always been a distraction, a way to keep them in line, united against a common target.
So long as they were focused on Serafina, they would not consider challenging me.
As they left, Amabel’s strategic mind was already planning each detail while Eluned’s impulsive nature had her bubbling with creative ideas. I watched them go, a sense of satisfaction settling over me. They were obedient, eager to please, and completely under my control. Just how I liked it.
I turned my gaze to the night-shrouded window, studying my reflection.
I had enough magic stored now to meet my needs and, if I came up a little short, my daughters would serve in a pinch. Their power was weak, however, compared to Serafina’s.
Serafina. Now there was an ocean of magic. A gift from her dear papa, no doubt. A gift I had bled out of Jonathan over and over until his heart finally gave out. And I would do the same to Serafina in the end.
Although it will take so much longer, I thought to myself. That girl has a fire in her that Jonathan lacked. Still, it only makes the game a little more fun.
While I myself had sworn in blood and by the moon not to seek them out, my daughters had made no such vow. Amabel and Eluned could harass her endlessly. Her and that baby.
Then, when the time was right, I would finish what I started.
And the Bell sisters would be no more.
#
Amabel Harrow
As we left Mother’s office, I let my amusement linger just a little longer, savoring the thrill of the night’s revelation. Poor, stupid Serafina. She really thought she had won something. That she had somehow escaped us.
I glanced at Eluned, her laughter still bubbling beneath the surface, eyes bright with mischief.
She would not sleep tonight, not with a scheme to plot, not with an opportunity to make Serafina suffer handed to us so neatly.
I admired her enthusiasm, but she lacked patience.
She thought of cruelty as a pastime, a delightful game.
I knew better.
Cruelty was a tool. One best wielded with precision.
As we walked toward our rooms, Eluned was already prattling on about what we could do. Wouldn’t it be delicious to ruin all of her clothing? Or perhaps slip something into her tea to turn her tongue black when she speaks to her husband?
Childish. Entertaining, yes, but I thought bigger.
“Eluned,” I murmured, my voice smooth as satin, “you’re thinking too small.”
She scoffed, but the flicker of challenge in her gaze told me she was listening.
“Oh? And what do you suggest, dearest sister?”
I let my silence stretch just a little too long before answering.
“She’s leaving us, finally,” I said, tapping a nail against my chin. “This isn’t about making her trip on the stairs one last time. This is about making certain she never forgets what she’s leaving behind.”
“And what would that be?” Eluned’s lips curled.
I turned my gaze toward the stairs. The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of settling wood, the whisper of wind against the windows.
“Us,” I said simply. “She’s gotten far too bold lately, don’t you think? She’s forgotten her place. We must remind her while setting her up to fail with her new husband.”
Eluned hummed in thought, fingers dancing absently over the carved railing as we ascended the stairs.
“She has been rather feisty since the baby was born,” she admitted. “Something about the child seems to have given her a backbone.”
I rolled my eyes. That infant had turned Serafina into something dangerously close to a mother wolf. Protective, stubborn, willing to endure suffering for the sake of something other than herself. It made her reckless.
Mother was right about one thing, though. Serafina was still weak. Still far too easy to manipulate. She might think herself strong now, with a brat in her arms and an escape route in hand, but she would always be what she had been from the start: Prey.
And we were hunters.
I let my own smile unfurl, slow and deliberate.
“I think our dear stepsister deserves a surprise she won’t soon forget. Something humiliating. Something demeaning.” I turned to face Eluned fully now. “How can we ensure her husband’s first impression of her is horrific while reminding her of where she belongs?”
“Once upon a time, an ugly little girl got ideas that she was special, and her loving stepsisters stepped on her.” Eluned grinned, and I knew then that we were of the same mind.
Serafina might believe she had escaped, but she would never be free of us.
Not ever.
#
Eluned Harrow
Oh, I liked this game already!
Amabel always had the best ideas. She thought big. Bigger than my little tricks, my petty mischief. But I was the one who made things happen. I was the spark that set the fire. She planned. I acted.
“She’s always been so insufferable,” I muttered, my fingers clenching at my sides as we made our way into my room. “Pretending she’s better than us. As if being our stepsister ever made her our equal.”
Amabel, as usual, was composed. Serene. Smug. She always held herself like she knew something I didn’t. It drove me mad.
“She forgets what she is because she thinks she’s safe now,” she murmured, as if she hadn’t heard my outburst. As if she were above my anger. I hated that about her, too.
“Safe!” I scoffed. “Worthless?”
The spineless little mouse who spent years shrinking into the corners of our home? Who cried when we whispered cruel things to her? Who flinched when we laughed too much? And now, suddenly, she thought she was safe?
I could hardly stand it.
“So she thinks she’s going to be a perfect little bride, is that it?
” I spat. “As if marrying into a noble house makes her one of them. As if caring for a child that isn’t hers makes her worth respecting.
” I let out a sharp, breathy laugh, one that made Amabel glance at me sideways.
“Oh, I cannot wait to see her fall apart.”
“Then let’s make sure she does.”
A shiver of delight ran through me. That was what I loved about my twin. She wanted to see Serafina ruined just as much as I did. She just liked to pretend she was above it, but I knew she wasn’t.
“I want her to cry,” I said, voice thick with anticipation. “I want her to beg. I want her to regret ever thinking she could live in peace and happiness.”
“And she will,” Amabel said simply. Like it was nothing. Like it was already done.
And maybe it was.
“Little Miss Bell sat in hell, eating humble pie,” I breathed, tasting the words on my tongue. “Something humiliating. Something demeaning. And then she’ll die.”
“On her belly at our feet,” we said in unison.
Yes. Yes.
Serafina thought she had escaped us.
How sweet. How stupid.
She hadn’t even begun to suffer yet.