Chapter 1 #3
I observed his reaction carefully. The way his hands curled into fists, the way his jaw twitched—he was rattled.
“There’s more,” I added. “James claimed Alina found one of the missing blades—the Sun or the Moon Dagger. I don’t remember which one, but she had it.”
Balthazar stiffened, his nostrils flaring. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the dim firelight.
He was afraid.
“There’s no way,” he shook his head. “They’ve been missing for thousands of years.”
I narrowed my eyes. So, the great Balthazar—so smug, so unshakable—could be affected after all.
“I knew Alina was up to something when I was hunting her,” he muttered, pacing again, his agitation palpable. “That’s why I need that damn journal. I knew she would find a blade; I could feel it. And if she did, she would have written down where she hid it.”
His eyes snapped back to me, glowing like embers in the dark.
“What else?” He asked in a low, dangerous growl. “Tell me everything James said.”
I stroked my jaw, pretending to think. I already knew what I would say, but I let him stew in the silence a little longer.
“James said Alina hid the blade somewhere safe,” I finally admitted, watching his every twitch. “And she gave her journal to Malik for safekeeping.”
Balthazar stopped pacing.
A predatory smile curled his lips as he straightened to his full height, his shadow swallowing mine.
He leaned in slightly.
I squared my shoulders, adjusting my trousers as I met his gaze.
“You’re going to help me find Malik,” he said, voice dripping with dark promise.
His tongue flicked across his lips like he could already taste the blood.
Excitement thrummed through me as power rippled off Balthazar’s body, an intoxicating force that sent a shiver down my spine. This was why I followed him. This was why I served him. The sheer thrill of plotting wickedness and carrying it out, the exhilaration of standing beside true darkness.
A surge of exultation washed over me.
“Of course, I will help you,” I said, my voice reverent. “I will always be of service to you.”
I stepped closer, my pulse pounding with anticipation. “Olivia went to find Malik—she had the map John James gave her. I glimpsed it while she studied it. I know where to look.”
My breath came quicker, my hunger for the hunt growing. “I will find the journal. I will find the daggers. You have my word, Lord Balthazar.”
I bowed deeply, solemnly, silently swearing my allegiance once more.
When I straightened, Balthazar studied me, stroking his goatee. The trim facial hair, dark as midnight, sharpened his devilish features, making him look like Satan’s wicked brother.
“You’ve always been a good servant, Marcellious,” he mused. “But I’m not entirely convinced of your loyalty.”
A cold prickle of fear slid down my spine. My knees nearly buckled, but I forced myself to stand tall.
“With all due respect, I have proved myself since the moment you summoned me,” I said, my voice steady despite the hammering of my heart.
“I have obeyed every order. I have told you everything I know. I have betrayed my brother and my people—” I inhaled deeply, the words tasting like ash.
“—and I will continue to serve you until my last dying breath.”
Balthazar said nothing.
His silence was suffocating.
Sweat beaded along my forehead and neck, trickling down my spine in hot rivulets.
Then—a smile.
Sinister.
“We shall see,” he murmured. “Find Malik. Bring me the journal. That will prove your loyalty.”
A dark thrill surged through me, drowning out the fear. Yes. This was where I belonged.
Back in the shadows.
Back at Balthazar’s side.
And now, I could finally unleash my darkness again—and revel in the thrill of evil.
I pulled my head back. “I’m ready to leave now. I can head for the Catskills at once to find Malik—and I can prove my loyalty to you anytime by killing anyone who stands in our way.”
Balthazar’s smile stretched into a wicked leer.
“You’ve forgotten something.”
I frowned. “What’s that?”
“You’re healing.” He gestured toward my abdomen.
I glanced down, patting my stomach. My skin was smooth, my muscles taut. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I feel fine. That healing tonic worked.”
Balthazar chuckled, the sound curling around me like a noose. “That was only the first treatment.”
He turned on his heel, striding toward the heavy wooden door at the back of the room. The moment his fingers brushed the handle, fire erupted in my veins.
A strangled cry tore from my throat as agony seized my limbs. My body convulsed, muscles twisting into unnatural knots. I crumpled to the ground, pain swallowing me whole.
Balthazar didn’t even glance back.
“I’ll return soon to administer more elixir,” he called over his shoulder, his laughter trailing behind him as the door clicked shut.
The room spun. My vision darkened at the edges. Every nerve in my body screamed, molten agony replacing my blood.
Had I made a mistake?
No.
No, this was the price of power.
I gritted my teeth, fists clenching against the stone floor. This wasn’t suffering. This wasn’t punishment.
This was a transformation.
The toll I had to pay to become the ruthless killer I was meant to be.
I forced my body to still, embracing the torment like an old friend.
One day, I would rise from this agony. Stronger. Unstoppable. A predator in my own right.
If, of course, I survived.