Chapter 10
The soft, gentle caress of Calia’s lips against my neck caught my attention, drawing me from a restless sleep. Delicate fingers raked over my chest and down my stomach, tracing my muscles in tender adoration.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, nipping my earlobe softly before resuming a trail of kisses down my neck.
“This is not real,” I said, refusing to open my eyes to the agonizing emptiness that would be waiting. No, I wanted to stay with my wife in this illusion of my own making. This moment was the only place I could still feel her presence, and I refused to let it go just yet.
“Of course it is,” she said, taking her time as she slowly stroked the peak of my nipples with her tongue. I could not stop the shiver which ran down my spine, or the low groan that escaped.
Each touch of her lips drove me to insanity. She could have asked for the world at that moment, and there would be no denying her. And she was torturous in her pursuit, taking her time to draw out what I could only assume was a cruel, delicious punishment.
It seemed that not even in sleep could I find solace. I had spent the past week agonizing over her loss, resentful of every second I remained alive without her.
Because that was the truth of it. I could not choose to live in a world where she no longer existed.
Once we had successfully disposed of my mother, I would join my beloved wife in the afterlife. Jasper and Rowena would mourn, but I would be no significant loss; they would move on in time, and then the world would forget my name.
“Stop thinking, Rion, and just feel,” Calia said softly, parting her lips and nipping the skin at my hip.
I let out a guttural moan, reaching out to tangle my hands in the soft waves of her hair. If only I could see her, that would give me some peace. Her eyes crinkled when she smiled; the warmth inside of them was enough to thaw the ice around my heart.
“Rion,” she gasped as I tugged her closer.
I needed this. I needed her. At this moment, there was no pain. I remained blissfully ignorant of the truth, locking the vault in my mind to keep it at bay.
There was only her.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. Her breath fanned against my face, her freckled nose touching mine as she leaned in.
Gods, she was so cold. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and not leave this bed until she was as burning as I was. I would set her aflame, worshiping every inch of her body. There would be no part of her left undiscovered.
“Kiss me,” she said again just before our mouths collided.
Her tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I greedily gave her access, running my own along her bottom lip. We were a torrent of lips, tongue, and teeth, each of us refusing to come up for air.
I could not resist; I had to see her. I would die if I did not.
But as I opened my eyes, I was not greeted by the sight of my wife bright-eyed and flushed from lust. No, this was the Calia of my nightmares, the one I could never outrun.
Her skin was pale, so pale that it was almost translucent, yet clusters of burns spanned her body. And then there were her eyes—milky-white, leached of all color.
Lifeless.
Her haunting, dead eyes stared back at me as though she could see right through me.
Oh gods, no.
I looked down at my hands, which had just been tangled in her hair. They were covered in blood.
I looked up in horror, noticing the gash on the side of her head where blood leaked down her neck and chest. It ran in rivers until she was coated in crimson.
No, no, no, no…
“What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head. “Do you not like what you see?”
I screamed, unable to stop the bloodcurdling sound before it escaped my lips. I flew backward, clamoring against the headboard as I curled in on myself and closed my eyes.
“This is not real. Not real, not real, not real” I tried to push the terror clawing its way through me back into the dark pit of my mind. There, I could be numb. I did not have to feel or think.
Seconds, minutes, or hours might have passed. I did not know how long I had been fisting the sheets at my side—the sting of fabric cutting into my hands. That small pain was the only thing I knew was real, and the feeling of adrenaline and a racing heart confirmed it.
Slowly, I blinked against the harsh light filtering through my window. I looked around the room, wondering if her ghost had lingered to torture me in the waking world as well.
But nothing came. Calia was gone once again, and I did not know how I would survive with her memory haunting me.
I could not go backto sleep after my encounter with Calia. The experience was jarring; I almost could not tell if it was real or a dream. But the sensation of her body against mine was committed to memory; every single dip and curve, the minute scars along the back of her thighs, consumed me.
I sat in the worn armchair in the corner of my room, watching the shadows stretch with the sun. The events of last night played in my mind, and I was unable to glean joy even at the memory of the man’s screams.
He had been a fool to lie to me, but even more for taking Leonora’s contract. I was to be captured alive, no matter the cost. But it was not out of love. No, I knew her better than that. She only loved herself, craving an unobtainable amount of power that was not hers to hold.
I was not even surprised. My mother would do anything, say anything, to get what she wanted, but Calia was dead. With her, she took the cure to our curse.
It was over, was it not?
It needed a bonded pair, Darrow and D’Arcy, to mix our blood in the golden chalice and have it blessed by a descendant of the sorceress who had placed the duty on our heads.
That bonded pair was broken. I was only half of a whole. Her blood, which had rended my soul, was gone—beneath a headstone on a hill.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning at the madness we were entangled in. There were so many questions, many of which I knew we would never have answers to.
A single knock sounded, my only warning, before Jasper walked through my door. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh, picking up a decanter and pouring himself three fingers of bourbon. With two quick gulps, he finished, pouring another before collapsing against the wall.
“Good morning?” I questioned, quirking a brow.
He grumbled, bringing the crystal glass to his lips. “You know what I hate?” he asked, continuing before I could test whether it was a rhetorical question or literal. “Women.”
I could not stop my chuckle. “No, you do not. You may wish you did, but we know your feelings are far from hate.”
“Why do they have to get together and gang up on me? They’re like, I don’t know, stronger in a group setting. It’s unnerving, honestly.”
“Ah,” I said, shaking my head. “This could not possibly have anything to do with the fact that my sister and Sloane met last night, could it?”
After we had left the chamber, we all agreed it would be best if Sloane stayed at the mansion until we brought my mother to justice. It was not a ludicrous idea to assume my mother knew the outcome of her little mission by now. Not to mention that somehow they had known about our meeting. Now, Sloane too would not be safe alone, and I could not guarantee her protection if she returned to the covens.
More than that, she said that we had proved ourselves to her, and she would gladly offer her assistance. Well, gladly would be exaggerating.
Seeing as the witch had no clothes, we asked Rowena if she had anything Sloane could wear for the time being. Unsurprisingly, Rowena refused to help until we told her what had happened. We had, after all, showed up at her door covered in blood.
Black, it seems, did nothing to hide the stains of brain splatter. Who knew?
It had not taken the two women long to bond, ultimately kicking Jasper and me out after we had told Rowena what had happened at the church.
“I tried to bring them breakfast this morning. When I knocked, Sloane answered and grabbed the tray from my hands before kicking the door shut. Then, I heard their laughter on the other side!” he huffed, downing the rest of his glass. “This is why you don’t do nice things, Jasper,” he muttered.
I outright laughed, a small tear escaping the corner of my eye. “Please. That has never stopped you before. Besides, it will be good for Rowena to have company while we are occupied today. She will be safe with Sloane.”
Jasper nodded, looking down at his feet. Something else was bothering him, but I could not put my finger on it, nor did we have time to dissect his trauma over female bonding.
The women in question walked through my door, grinning at each other like old friends. Rowena laughed, and it was a proper, belly-deep laugh—one I had not heard in a long time.
“… and that’s when I told him if he valued his balls, he’d take his hands off my arm and back away slowly,” Sloane said, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Oh gods,” Rowena responded, clapping a hand over her mouth and laughing. “That is amazing.”
“It’s all a matter of threatening what they treasure most, and there isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t back away at the threat of castration.” Sloane glanced at Jasper and smiled. “Isn’t that right, Jasper?”
My friend covered his crotch in his response. Even I shifted slightly at the thought.
“See what I mean?” she said with a snicker.
They dropped onto the loveseat at the foot of my bed, training their stares on us. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Like shit,” Jasper and I said at once.
Sloane nodded. “That tracks. So, what’s the plan for today?”
I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. There was no time to hesitate. If we were going to have any chance at subduing my mother, we needed the full support of the elders. They alone were the key.
“Today, you are going to get us an audience with the leader of your coven, and we will pray to the gods we impress him.”