Chapter 6
We will rebuild and we will prevail. Our world is not broken, merely changed, and in time we will find a way to coexist with the threads of magic that have found their way into our world. Technology is malleable, and in time we will prove it.
The wind whistled in my ears as the world tipped topsy-turvy and inside out. A scream bubbled up my throat, rage aimed at that bastard Talbot, but before I could release it, I landed hard on the ground with a muffled ugh.
The ground…
Oh, thank the heavens.
I pressed my cheek against the cool wood and hugged the floor, barely registering the click of heels until a pair of shiny black boots appeared in my eyeline.
A moment later, a deep, rumbly male voice drawled, “I’m no stranger to women metaphorically falling at my feet, but this is new.”
I scrambled to my feet, coming eye level with taut, brown pectorals—partially exposed because the maroon shirt he wore was too tight to do up the buttons.
Normally, that would have been enough to put me off, but then I spotted the intricate ink decorating his decidedly masculine arms, also on display because his sleeves were rolled up.
My weakness for inked men kicked in, fingers itching to investigate him.
“Have you finished taking in the view?” he asked coolly.
My gaze whipped up to the kind of face that belonged on a work of art—chiseled lovingly into planes and sharp lines, softened by pillowy lips.
He arched a dark eyebrow, his tawny eyes flat and hard.
Hunter eyes. They assessed me like I was new and interesting prey, but the goosebumps that brushed over me had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with anticipation.
“Don’t worry,” he continued. “There’ll be plenty of time for you to eye-fuck me in class if you’re permitted entry to the Academy.”
Perfect, he was one of those guys—gorgeous and completely aware of it. Totally off-putting.
My fascination with this stunning male faded.
“I have a policy against eye-fucking arrogant assholes.” I expected him to make a cutting or smart remark back, but he simply stared at me as if he could see right through me, and my stomach trembled.
I didn’t need this shit. “Where’s Old Vitra? He’s expecting me.”
“Old?” His mouth twitched. “I suppose technically I am.”
I am? He was Old Vitra?
This male, in his prime? Okay, so he had a streak of silver in his shoulder-length dark hair, but it was much too perfect to be natural.
The port behind me crackled and died, becoming nothing but an innocuous stone arch once more. There was another behind Vitra. This was obviously a port room, like the one at the Border House, but smaller.
He watched me process, his eyes flinching slightly as if he too was processing something. “Why are you here, Miss Onyx?”
“If you’re Vitra, then you know why I’m here.”
“Yes, yes. But why? Why bother coming to a place where most everyone hates you?” He sounded genuinely interested.
“Most everyone hates me wherever I go. At least here, there’s a chance I might get something out of it.”
“If you’re expecting acceptance, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
What the hell did he know about disappointment?
Standing there in his expensive shirt and slacks, with his perfect hair and that sympathetic look on his beautiful face.
“Fuck acceptance. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.
I’m here to claim what’s rightfully mine—my family’s power back.
It’s been kept from my bloodline long enough.
” My mother’s frail form filled my mind’s eye, her dark eyes brimming with pain and the aching sorrow of a life saturated with loss.
The Arcanum Imperium had done this to her.
Punishing her for a crime committed over a century ago.
A crime that was probably a lie. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “We’ve suffered long enough.”
He looked down his nose at me, a cold, assessing gaze that made me want to curl in on myself and hide. “And what if the Coterie denies your request?”
I lifted my chin in defiance. “On what grounds?”
The corner of his mouth turned up, but there was no warmth in the half smile. In fact, if I was reading it right, it was a smile of pity. My scalp prickled with unease.
“There are always grounds,” he said. “The Arcanum Lex keepers are paid handsomely to find them. And you, Miss Onyx, have given them three weeks to do so.”
Well, that explained their stalling and his pitying smile. “I didn’t give them anything. This was the date they provided.”
“Because they are in control here.”
“Maybe, but I can be a pain in the ass, Mr. Vitra. Trust me, I’ve had practice, and if you’re here to feel me out and report back to the Coterie, then you can tell them to be prepared to cut the bullshit. I have enough time and funds to tie them up in legal knots for the foreseeable future.”
Every coin in the Onyx wealth fund was now mine. As the last living Onyx, I was the heir to it all. I could buy an island if I wanted, but what I wanted was closure. What I wanted was justice with a hot slice of vengeance.
“I’ll be sure to pass on the message.” He walked off, heels clipping on wood. “Come. I’ll show you to your room.”
I was forced to trot to keep up with his long stride, which I was sure he was deliberately lengthening. But I’d be damned if I asked him to slow down. I could keep up just fine.
As we walked, I took in my surroundings.
Whereas the Border House had been all stone and metal framework, this tower featured plastered walls and high, arched ceilings etched with intricate vine-like patterns, giving it a warmer, homey feel.
The lights were low, with only every other electric wall sconce lit, leaving patches of darkness in between.
Vitra cut a regal figure. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Nice ass. The kind that begged to be cupped and squeezed. Times like this, I missed the ability to feel the pleasure of physical touch.
When my curse activated at sixteen, stealing two senses that I’d taken for granted, it hadn’t immediately seemed like such a huge deal.
I’d done a ton of reading to understand the parameters of my curse—how my body hadn’t lost its ability to feel sensation like pressure, heat, or cold, and yet failed to translate those sensations into pain or pleasure.
The loss of pain, in many ways, was a blessing, as long as I was careful.
But losing physical pleasure? Well, the enormity of that loss registered with my first sexual encounter.
I could be drawn to someone—lured by attraction, aroused mentally and emotionally—but there would be no physical sensation of pleasure in the act of sex unless I remained mentally aroused.
So far, no male had succeeded in keeping me that way.
I’d learned to fill in the blanks, tricking my mind into believing I was feeling more than I was.
It worked…sometimes. But right now, watching this fine male specimen make his way down the corridor, I was reminded that the only pleasure I’d ever experienced with a man was in my head. Thank Trinity for vivid imaginations.
We took a left onto a passage lined with vaulted windows looking out into the night, where the majestic Main Building sat on an island in the middle of the churning sea, its many windows brightly lit from within.
Waves crashed and foamed against the cliffs that surrounded it, and two white bridges gleamed in the moonlight, stretching from the mainland and rising high above the waves to connect to the island.
But no struts or framework were visible to explain how they were held up.
“Miss Onyx?” Vitra called from a door farther up the corridor. “I don’t have all night.”
I tore myself from the view and hurried to join him. “How did they build it?”
He pushed open the door and slipped through. “Build what?”
“The Main Building,” I continued, “and the bridges leading to the island. I mean, it takes up the whole of that land mass…at least it looked like it from here.” Once again, I had to trot to keep up.
“I’m no architect or builder.” He took us up a short flight of stairs onto a carpeted corridor. “You’ll be housed in the fourth-floor turret with the other Unwoven while you’re with us.”
“Unwoven?”
“A meal will be brought to you in an hour, and Polina will collect you at nine a.m. sharp to escort you to your meeting. You will not leave the turret tonight, is that understood?”
“Why not?”
He stopped and turned on his heel so suddenly that our bodies collided, chest to chest, long enough for me to breathe in his sandalwood scent and sip on the heat emanating from his body before I rebounded.
He gripped my shoulders to steady me, and my head whipped up, gaze snapping and locking with his.
His nostrils flared, eyes narrowing slightly, and a sharp tingle rushed down my spine. I sucked in a breath. What the hell was that?
His gaze became probing, uncomfortable. “You’ll stay in your quarters because I’ve asked you to. Is that clear?”
The words you’re not the boss of me sprang to my lips, but I pressed them back. If I was going to survive here, then I’d have to defer to authority to some degree. So I arranged my face into something resembling politeness and offered him a closed-lipped smile. “Crystal.”
He released me. “Good. Now, this way.”
One more flight of stairs, and we entered a cozy sitting room decorated in a patchwork of colors, with several doors leading off it.
“The other Unwoven are at supper, but they’ll be back soon. They’ll no doubt attempt to coax you out from your quarters, but you’re to say no.”
“Wouldn’t that be rude?” I kept my expression open and innocent. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to be rude.”
He gave me a flat look. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”
He shoved open the door to the far right. “You’re in here.”
The room was plain and sparse: a bed, a wardrobe, a dresser with a mirror, and a small bathroom coming off from it, and that was all.
“I’d advise you to lock your door when you sleep,” he said. “You’re not the most welcome guest, and I have business to attend to tonight and won’t be on hand to play guard.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Hmm…”
Trinity, he was annoying. “Trust me, I can take care of—”
In an instant, I was pinned to the wall, cheek to plaster, his hand on my nape.
His body was a cage, powerful thigh pressed between mine, wedging me in place.
Tingling heat spread out from every point of contact, bringing my body to life.
What was this? What was happening to me?
I twisted and bucked, but he had me trapped, his grip like steel, tightening the more I struggled, fingers pressing against my rabid pulse leaving me hollow and breathless.
A penetrating shiver awakened across my skin and gooseflesh broke out up my arms. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt for years, one that bypassed the relative numbness of my senses.
Trinity, how was this possible? Butterflies erupted in my belly and my eyes heated with the threat of tears.
I needed it to stop. For him to stop touching me.
I relaxed against the wall. “You made your point.”
His hot breath skimmed the shell of my ear, and my eyelids fluttered as a fresh wave of sensation washed over me. “I need to hear you say it, Miss Onyx.”
“Fine.” My voice came out as a croak. “I’ll stay in the damn quarters, okay?”
“Good girl.” The words vibrated through me, and another shiver skipped up my spine.
He released me, and I quickly slipped away, putting distance between us and crossing my arms to hold myself together. This…these feelings made no sense.
He watched me from hooded eyes, and silence stretched like hot toffee between us while my pulse continued to beat hard in my throat beneath the bite of phantom fingers.
I clenched my hands into fists, grounding myself, and fixed a hard glare on my face. “Was there anything else?”
“No. That’s all. For now.” He retreated from the room and closed the door behind him.
I curled my hand around my nape, still warm from his touch. He’d touched me and I’d felt something much more than a bland pressure. It should be impossible, but it had happened. I hadn’t imagined it.
Question was, what did it mean?