Chapter 21 Gaetano
Gaetano
When one senses the beginning of addiction, the best move is to step back before the craving takes hold.
That’s exactly what I should have done the moment I felt the quiet thrill that started to accompany every meeting with Nicole.
Each encounter left a residue of anticipation, and instead of extinguishing the spark, I let it grow.
Had I stayed focused, she never would have had the chance to catch me off guard.
I don’t know who told her about curare, but that toxin is one of the few capable of bringing an immortal creature to their knees. Even now, the memory of her expression—steady, unflinching, as she stabbed me—unsettles me more than the pain did. There was no fear in her, only defiance.
I should be hunting her down, making sure she understands who controls the stakes. But instead, I find myself wanting more of that fire.
Now that all my magic is restored, I conjure a portal and step into her room. The curtains are drawn, blocking out the moonlight. She’s curled up beneath the satin sheets, her copper hair fanned out above the covers. Her steady breathing is the only sound.
Remaining invisible in the dark, I lean over her. The dark magic thrums at my core, reminding me of the sole reason for my existence. Harvest after harvest, until I collect three hundred of them.
My blood ignites with a vicious energy that flows through my skin and spills out.
Without taking my eyes off Harvest 290, I summon all the lesser creatures of the night.
From the corners of the room, beneath the door, and between the cracks in the floor, insects crawl forward.
They pour out in a black tide. Spiders with swollen bellies shivering and weaving thin threads across the floor, beetles with shiny wings squeezing through the window gaps and buzzing in the air, long-legged centipedes slithering between the floorboards.
The insects flood the room, dark magic pulsing around them, stirring the shadows on the walls. In an instant, the spiders will swarm the bed, beetles will scatter around her with a sinister hum, and the centipedes will crawl up to wriggle through her hair.
My entertainment will be in the fear they will cause her. And the fuel that’ll give me. She’ll scream and thrash the insects off her skin, and panic—
Hesitation makes me flinch. Would she really panic? Or would she simply rise and brush them off, knowing she’s the bigger predator, with no reason to fear the lesser ones? It wouldn’t be her first time surprising me.
I steer the insects to the corners, as my thoughts drift back to the field, following Nicole’s attack. How many souls can keep their head high when they’ve been stripped down, a blade pressed to their chest?
A memory surfaces. One I’d prefer to forget, yet it forces its way back and makes my heart race.
After a few years of staying at Madeline’s court, her attention shifted more and more toward me.
When I first arrived, she had many lovers.
Soon, she started dismissing them at night, choosing instead to spend the dark hours with me.
I could feel her growing attached to me, just as I was becoming tethered to her magic and to the lessons she fed me.
And to her, somehow. I wasn’t in love, but she had become my closest friend, lover, and master.
I had begun to trust her, the way I believed she trusted me, for she whispered secrets in my ear that no one else was meant to know.
The previous night had been an ordeal. Too much wine, dancing that spiraled into magic, and sex that left me gutted.
I’d collapsed beside her like a dead man, every limb heavy with exhaustion.
But when I woke, the warmth of her body was gone, and I was tied to a stone slab—the kind used in ancient rites.
My wrists chafed against the restraints, and the damp air of the underground chamber clung to my naked skin like a warning. The worst part? My magic was gone.
I was still a young creature, just beginning to master the craft, and had no grasp of what was unfolding. Only later would I learn of a dark spell that could block a witcher’s power—and much later, I’d become strong enough so no one could do it to me again.
But in that moment, I was powerless.
The scrape of her heels echoed through the chamber. When Madeline emerged from the shadows, her eyes gleamed with cold delight.
I struggled against the chains binding my limbs. “Madeline, what have you done to me?”
She circled the stone slab with slow steps, then she stopped by my side, leaned in, and let her syrup-sweet voice spill into my ear, “You humiliated me, Gaetano. Last night, you spent hours dancing with another. Trailing your fingers down her waist? Fucking her in the doorway? Letting her put her filthy hands on your body?”
Yes, I’d fucked another. For the first time. Madeline had never claimed exclusivity, so I didn’t think my actions warranted such a dramatic reaction.
She turned her head to the shadows. “Come!”
Figures stepped into the torchlight. Witches and witchers of our court, whose gazes swept over my naked body. Some showed fear; others, satisfaction. Madeline’s favor always stirred envy.
I’d never been ashamed of nudity. But this—laid bare like an offering on an altar, devoid of any magic—twisted my gut with a shame I didn’t know I could feel. Struggling to keep my voice steady, I said, “Untie me, Madeline.”
Madeline drew a blade from the folds of her gown and pressed it to my sternum, forcing a sharp breath from my lungs. The tip of the knife pierced my skin. Warmth spread across my chest in a thin line.
“You gave your body to another. Now I’ll take it back, piece by piece.”
My panic surged the moment the blade slithered down to my pelvis, tracing slow circles around the most vulnerable parts of me.
I frown, forcing the memory back into its cage.
I never dwell on the details. But yes, I begged and apologized.
Said whatever she needed to hear. If feigning weakness was the only way out, I’d do it.
And it worked. I escaped without serious damage, aside from a few scars on my thighs, long since covered with runes.
Even if it was an act of survival, it didn’t sting any less. Humiliation clung to my skin like dirt. They all witnessed me, stripped of pride; her plaything.
If I wanted to make sure it never happened again, I had to grow stronger. Much stronger. And Madeline was the most powerful witch I knew. So, I stayed and learned from her.
Later, when my magic matched hers, I sharpened her jealousy into a weapon. Slept with other women just to make her snap. She couldn’t hurt me anymore.
Or so I thought.
Being bonded to Nicole and all the other harvests proves the opposite.
A knot tightens in my chest as an unwelcome realization dawns on me. I did the same to Nicole. I stripped her of her clothes and her strength. I tormented her heart as I pressed the blade to her skin.
The thought of putting her through that fills me with the same shame the memory of Madeline’s torture still awakens in me. It had to be done. I had to make her apologize, beg.
I clench my jaw and unfurl my fists. My fingers stretch out into the darkness again. Knuckles marked with runes stand stark against Nicole’s skin. Instead of summoning the insects back, I brush the tip of my finger against her forehead. She shivers.
Her hand twitches atop the blanket, and her breathing shifts.
“Gaetano…” My name slips from her lips.
Every muscle in my body grows taut. Any desire I had for entertainment is gone, replaced instead by a single-minded focus: I don’t want to hurt her. Not today.
Leave! I command the night creatures. They scatter back into their hiding places as if they never emerged.
I’m about to teleport out when Nicole stirs. Then she bolts upright, sitting up in bed, eyes wide open. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, scanning the darkness. She can’t see me, can’t feel my presence. Yet, she must be sensing something.
I won’t hurt you, I almost tell her. But I don’t. Because in less than two weeks, I’ll do much worse than cause her pain.
She reaches for the lamp. A soft glow spills over her profile, highlighting the sharp line of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips.
The letter on her brow. Her gaze flickers, filled with a mix of confusion and fear.
I remain invisible, but she still turns her head in my direction.
My pulse races with hers—an uncontrollable, maddening reaction.
I’ve spent countless nights in the rooms of my harvests, probing for their deepest weaknesses. Still Nicole’s awareness makes my skin prickle. She keeps staring straight at me, the tension thickening the air between us.
Before I stop myself, my fingers extend toward her forehead again. Her lips part in surprise, and I brush her skin, the delicate line of her cheekbone, the gentle curve of her chin. I don’t know if she registers anything beyond a faint chill, but to me, the touch is solid, warm, and painfully real.
That damn protective instinct flares up again, unbidden and impossible to ignore. I came here to toy with her. I stead, all I can think about is how peaceful she looks in her sleep.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I teleport away before I do something reckless.
My magic wavers once I’m back inside the castle, unstable for no clear reason. Maybe it’s those fragments of memory I keep locked away. Tonight, they’ve slipped free, crawling over my skin, coiling around my heart. Almost as if—
The hairs on my neck rise. I focus on the wards, a sense of urgency pulsating beneath my ribs...
A relieved breath escapes me. Everything’s intact. The protection is holding.