CHAPTER EIGHT
I couldn’t sit still. The room was too small, too stifling with frustration.
I was cold and exhausted. My thoughts were a whirlwind of uncertainty and impatience, each one pulling me in a dozen directions at once.
My hands gripped the back of the chair, my fingers digging into the wood before I turned to pace the length of the room again.
I muttered to myself under my breath. “This is ridiculous. We can’t just sit here. We’re no closer to figuring out who cursed you, or why.”
Lucien was silent for a long, intense moment, watching me from where he leaned against the wall, arms folded. He didn’t speak, didn’t offer comfort or any hint of reassurance, and it grated against my nerves more than I wanted to admit .
I stopped mid-step, my eyes locking on the door. I was done with this. “I’ve had enough of hiding. I’m going out there.”
I moved toward it, determination flooding my every step. The ghosts, the answer to this forsaken curse, and the unanswered questions—they were all waiting. I couldn’t stay cooped up any longer.
But as my hand reached the door handle, it stopped cold. Lucien’s arm shot out, blocking the way.
“I don’t think so, little witch.” His voice was low, controlled. It sent heat coursing through me despite the anger burning in my chest.
I looked up at him, irritation flashing in my eyes. “What are you doing?”
His gaze was steady, but there was something there—something rising just beneath the surface. He leaned in slightly, so close I could feel the heat of him, that magnetic pull that always seemed to bring my pulse racing, the tantalizing scent…
“You’re not going anywhere. It’s too dangerous right now.”
A sharp laugh escaped me, though it held no humor. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to sit here and do nothing?”
He didn’t flinch at my sharp tone. Instead, he stepped closer, and suddenly, the air between us was thick with something unspoken, a heat that made my breath catch in my throat. “Yes.”
His voice was barely above a whisper now, and yet it reached into me like a caress down my spine. My heartbeat stuttered, a reaction I couldn’t ignore. I tilted my head slightly, trying to read him. “And what exactly do you think I should do instead?”
He paused, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made everything else fade away. For a moment, I forgot the world entirely, trapped in the tension between us.
Then, with that wicked grin of his, he said, “Sit still. Let me help you think.”
My breath hitched. I couldn’t tell if the challenge in his voice was intended, or if something else was simmering beneath it. Whatever it was, I felt it, coiling around my insides.
“You’re insufferable,” I muttered, but even as I said it, my body seemed to lean closer, as if pulled by some invisible thread.
Lucien chuckled softly, the sound rich and dangerous. “So you’ve said before.”
I wanted to snap back with something biting, but his proximity, the warmth of his presence, the way his gaze felt like it was touching me, made it impossible to think clearly. He was too close .
“I need to do something,” I said, my voice quieter now, uncertainty creeping in despite myself.
His lips twitched, and his voice dipped even lower as his gaze trailed to my mouth. “I could think of several ways to keep you occupied.”
Before I could think of a retort, he leaned down, brushing a hand lightly against my arm, his fingers grazing my skin in a touch so subtle it sent a shock of awareness straight to my core.
I froze, my eyes meeting his, both of us acutely aware of the way the air had warmed. Time seemed to stretch, slow, like we were both waiting for the other to make the first move.
But I couldn’t move. Not now, not with him so close.
It felt as though every part of me was caught between pulling away and staying exactly where I was. What would it be like to just lean in and brush my lips against his? Would they be solid like the rest of him? Warm? I’d never kissed a ghost before—or anyone for that matter.
I blinked, my mind scrambling to break free from the haze that had descended over me, making my thoughts cloudy and my pulse quicken with every inch of space that Lucien took up.
It was as if the air itself was thick with something unspoken—something dangerous.
I should have moved away. I knew I should.
But then it hit me.
That damn letter.
The letter from his lover. The words I had read now echoed in my mind like a cold slap to the face. I pulled away from him abruptly, the distance between us suddenly too great and yet too small.
“Rake,” I muttered under my breath, the word slipping out with more venom than I had intended and I cursed the pang of jealousy coiling low in my stomach.
I could almost see the change in his expression as the smile on his lips faltered, the amusement fading into something darker.
“What did you say?” His voice was hard, cold… laced with something akin to annoyance or… something more dangerous.
“Nothing,” I said, taking a few more steps away, putting space between us. The pull of him was intoxicating, but the memory of that letter brought me back to reality, the cool weight of it settling back in my chest. The bitterness gnawed at me again.
It was obvious he not only had a fiancé but a lover as well.
No wonder his betrothed cursed him…
I turned my back to him, not wanting to see that smirk, that look that always made my heart race, in case he was about to say something that would only make it worse. Something that would make me want to step back into his arms all over again.
“I’m going to sleep,” I said, turning my gaze on the bed in the room. It certainly wasn’t as grand as the one in my bedchamber, but it would do for the night.
“Mia,” he said, his tone tight as if a warning, but I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself fall into whatever strange spell he’d cast over me, whether intentionally or not.
“Good night, Lucien,” I said firmly, but when I turned back to face him, he was already gone.
I groaned as I plopped down on the mattress, a puff of layered dust enveloping me as I did so. I coughed, waving the obnoxious haze away as I choked for air.
Karma. It was a prickly thing and I deserved it for what I’d said to him.
**********
I couldn’t breathe.
I awoke with a start, a cold, suffocating pressure wrapped around my throat. My lungs seized. I tried to gasp, but the air wouldn’t come. The haze of sleep banished instantly when I remembered my surroundings. I wasn’t in my warded bedchamber.
Panic surged through me as my hands flew to my neck, fingers clawing at the invisible grip pressing into my skin… It wasn’t invisible. It was hands. Cold, bony, impossibly strong fingers curling tighter, pressing into my flesh.
I tried to move, but my body felt leaden, weighed down by an unseen force. My limbs refused to obey. A heavy, paralyzing dread settled over me as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.
And then—I saw her.
A figure loomed over me, straddling my chest. Long, black hair hung in thick, slick strands over her face and shoulders, dripping as if she’d just crawled out of some damp, rotting grave. The air around her reeked of decay, of something putrid and dead.
I fought to scream, to shove her off, but the pressure at my throat only grew stronger. My pulse thundered in my ears. My vision blurred at the edges.
The woman let out a garbled, wet sound—a noise that sent ice lancing through my veins.
She leaned closer. The strands of her hair parted just enough for me to see her face .
I wished they hadn’t.
It was Serena, but not the beauty from the portrait, no… it was the Serena from my vision. Grotesque, decaying, and dead.
Sunken, hollow sockets stared back at me, crawling with writhing things that moved in the pits where her eyes should have been. Her lips, cracked and peeling, pulled back into a grin, revealing jagged, rotting teeth.
A noise clawed up my throat—a strangled, desperate cry. My body bucked against her weight, terror giving me enough strength to finally move.
She didn’t budge.
The pressure around my throat was unbearable now, spots of darkness creeping into my vision. My limbs trembled with the effort to fight her off.
I was going to die.
No… no, I refused to let this thing take me.
My magic hummed beneath my skin, begging to be used, but I couldn’t quite grasp it.
My mind was too frozen in fear. With everything I had left in me, I forced my hand up, shoving against her chest. I pulled my magic, commanding it to sway death.
It did little to the cursed creature. Serena merely jolted back slightly, but it was just enough.
The pressure around my throat loosened, for a fraction of a second.
I sucked in a breath and screamed.
“Lucien!”
The room erupted with movement. A sudden gust of wind howled through the chamber, knocking over the bedside candle and sending shadows lurching across the walls. The specter shrieked as a dark force slammed into her, ripping her away from me.
I gasped, coughing, rolling onto my side as I clutched my throat. My skin burned where her fingers had been. My chest heaved as I struggled to breathe.
Lucien stood at the foot of the bed, his presence crackling with barely restrained fury. Shadows curled around him like living things, shifting and twisting, responding to the storm raging beneath his skin.
His golden eyes burned as they locked onto the specter, who now hovered near the far wall, her gnarled fingers still reaching for me as she gurgled and hissed.
“Get away from her,” Lucien growled, his voice low, dangerous.
The thing let out an ear-splitting shriek and lunged.
But Lucien was faster.
The air pulsed with an unseen force as he swept his arm outward. The specter flew back, slamming into the stone wall with a sickening crack. Her body convulsed before she melted into the shadows, vanishing as suddenly as she had appeared.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I sat there, my breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. My body trembled violently. My throat ached. The room still spun with something unnatural, something wrong.
Lucien was in front of me in an instant, kneeling beside the bed, his hands cupping my face. His touch was warm—real.
“Mia,” he murmured, his voice tight, controlled only by the barest thread. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, but my body betrayed me, still shaking, still caught in the aftermath of what had just happened. My fingers hovered near my throat, brushing over the tender skin where her grip had been.
“I—I couldn’t move,” I whispered. “She was on me, Lucien. I—” My voice broke.
His jaw clenched. His hands tightened slightly, grounding me, holding me steady. “I know,” he said gently. “But I couldn’t come unless you summoned me.”
I swallowed hard, still trying to catch my breath. But as I looked into his face, past the fury burning in his eyes, I saw something else.
Fear. Not for himself. For me .
I stared at him, searching those honey colored eyes.
“How did you do that?”
He quirked a brow and I waved in the direction where Serena’s nightmare form had been crouched.
“That. It was like you controlled the shadows.”
He followed my gesture to the corner of the room, silent for a long moment as if lost in thought. “Is that not normal?”
“Not at all,” I answered, shaking my head, but instead of discussing it further, he simply hummed before giving me one of his delicious grins.