55. Prince Cole
Chapter 55
Prince Cole
“Love requires sacrifice, but it’s worth it.”
— Nicholas Sparks
D ays blend in a haze of intoxication and self-loathing, the image of Davina lying unconscious on the ground haunting me relentlessly.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from these endless, torturous days, it’s that loving someone so deeply can be both a blessing and a curse. Every second without her feels like an endless struggle to breathe, like drowning without the sweet release of death.
But I’ve felt so much that I’ve begun to feel nothing at all. I’ve been drinking myself into oblivion—days just blurring together until they lose all meaning.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here when Lorelda decides to host one of her twisted parties, a gathering of cursed souls under her control, all serving as her playthings.
The room feels like a stage, everyone performing their roles in a twisted play that I can no longer understand.
The music grates my nerves, a relentless buzzing in my ears, and the laughter feels like shards of glass scraping against my brain.
I’m sprawled on the sofa, drunk and disheveled, when a girl sidles up to me. Her hand trails along my arm, and I’m barely conscious of her touch, the alcohol dulling my senses.
“Why so glum?” she purrs.
I glance at her, my vision swaying. She’s wearing a dress that barely conceals anything and leaves little to the imagination.
“A handsome man like you should be having fun, not brooding in the corner.” Her voice is a low murmur in my ear as she runs her fingers down my chest, and though I should feel something, it’s as if I’m disconnected from reality.
“You really look like you could use some distraction,” she whispers, her lips grazing my ear. “You’re hurting. Let me make it better.”
I roll my eyes at her with half-closed lids.
My mind is a fog, and I don’t bother to reply.
Her touch becomes more persistent. “Come on,” she coaxes softly. “Don’t be shy. We could go somewhere more private, just you and me.”
“You know what? You might just be the distraction I need.” I manage a forced, lopsided smile, playing along even as my heart feels like lead. “Lead the way?—”
She grabs my arm with surprising strength and leads me through the crowd; the music and laughter fade into a distant hum as she guides me through the narrow corridor.
She pushes open a door that creaks in protest, then closes it behind us with a soft click. A knowing smile dances on her lips.
She shoves me onto the bed, and I feel the roughness of the sheets against my skin as she begins to undress me, her fingers brushing against my chest before moving lower.
I grab her arm and pull her closer, close enough that I can smell the perfume she’s doused herself in. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do.”
She grins at me, mischief glinting in her eyes. “What’s that?”
My hand slides up to her throat, my grip tightening just enough to make her eyes widen. She smirks, but I tighten my grip, watching as panic replaces the flirtation, her playful demeanor cracking as a cruel smile forms on my lips.
Because this isn’t what I need.
It’s not her.
I belong to Davina. I am hers and hers alone, forever bound to her, just as the moon is tied to the night and the stars surrender to the sky. Whether she is with me or not, I can never be another’s.
She struggles against my grip. I feel her pulse race under my fingers as she tries to pull back, but I’m beyond caring.
“You wanted my attention,” I hiss. “Now you have it.”
“Stop,” she gasps, her hands clawing at my arm.
“You’re the one who wanted to play. And we’re about to play a very fun game.” I lock eyes with her, willing my intentions to seep into her consciousness. “Help me,” I command silently, my voice echoing in her mind.
She blinks rapidly, visibly struggling against it. I push all her thoughts aside, seizing control of her movements.
Her expression shifts from horror to a twisted kind of compliance as her hand drifts to my belt where my knife is sheathed.
“Go ahead,” I command and release my grip on her throat. “Use the knife.”
I watch her, her gaze darting between the blade and my eyes. Her hand shakes as she brings the cold blade to my skin, pressing it just hard enough to draw thin, red lines.
“Deeper,” I urge. “Make it hurt.”
A tear slips down her cheek, but her hand obeys.
A sharp sting of pain slices through my chest, but I don’t flinch. I barely register it, too consumed by grief and the adrenaline that is pounding in my veins.
The blade slides further into my flesh, and I clench my jaw, the pain mingling with satisfaction.
Her hand is trembling violently now, but I need her to push through it, to give me what I crave.
I press her hand harder against the knife, forcing the blade deeper, the pain intensifying until it’s all I can feel. My vision blurs for a moment, but I welcome it, embracing the agony as it consumes me.
Her sobs grow louder, but her hand doesn’t falter. The blade cuts deeper and deeper; the pain becoming more excruciating and drawing a hiss of agony from my lips.
Suddenly, her eyes roll back, her body going limp as she passes out. She crumples forward, collapsing on top of me.
With a grunt, I push her aside and glance down at the bloodied mess she’s made of me.
It isn’t enough.
It’s never enough.
Cole, it’s starting to hurt…it hurts so much…
I’m jolted awake, gasping for air, and drenched in sweat. My heart is pounding so violently I fear it might burst from my chest, the echo of Davina’s anguished cry still ringing in my ears.
I feel the prickling sensation begin at the edge of the birthmark like needles tapping my skin. It’s insistent, demanding attention, but I try to ignore it and focus on my surroundings.
The room is shrouded in the shadows of night, and the warmth of my seeping blood is replaced by a chill that seeps into my bones. My mind races, trying to piece together what I’ve just experienced. Was it just a nightmare, or was it something more? Her voice was so real, so filled with pain. It’s as if she’s right here with me.
The idea of her enduring pain in any form is unbearable, and desperation claws at my chest as I scramble to my feet.
My hands shake as I fumble with the door, pushing it open with a creak.
The cottage is small, so it doesn’t take long to reach the main room. But Lorelda is nowhere to be seen.
A sudden noise behind me makes me whirl around.
“Looking for something?” The faintest smirk plays on her lips, but there’s something cold and calculating in her gaze.
The silence stretches between us as I struggle to find the right words.
“I need—” They stick in my throat, tasting bitter on my tongue as anxiety churns in my stomach, dreading the questions that might follow. “I need a cure. A cure for a slumber.”
“Oh?” Her eyes gleam with dark amusement. “A slumber, you say?”
“Can you help or not?”
“What kind of slumber are we talking about here? What’s the nature of it?”
I swallow hard, the anxiety tightening in my chest. “I can’t explain it right now. Just—can you help me or not?”
Her gaze sharpens as she studies me, a twisted pleasure in her expression. “Ah, it’s someone you love, isn’t it?” she mocks. “I can only imagine how upset Madeline would be if she knew how quickly you have moved on.”
“I don’t have time for your games.”
“Very well,” she says, her smirk widening. “I can break such spells. I can wake her. But nothing comes without a price. You know that, don’t you?
“Just tell me what it is,” I demand.
“You.”
“Me?”
“I will grant the cure, but you will serve me. Unconditionally. You will follow my commands without question.”
I understand what I’m agreeing to, but the thought of Davina suffering in her slumber is unbearable. “Alright,” I agree, accepting my fate.
She scrutinizes me with a skeptical gaze. “Say it.”
“I will serve you and obey you.”
A devious grin stretches across her face. “A drop of my blood, mixed with a spell,” she says, delighted. “But blood magic is unpredictable. Are you willing to risk it?”
Desperation outweighs caution. “Yes.”
She grabs a dagger from the folds of her dark green gown and pricks her finger. A single drop of crimson blood wells up and hovers in the air, shimmering with a faint light.
“Hold out your hand.”
I extend my palm, and she guides the droplet onto it. The blood sears like fire as it makes contact, seeping into me with an unsettling warmth. She begins to chant, her words ancient, weaving a spell.
The air around us crackles with energy and the ground trembles beneath our feet.
“Done,” she finally says. “Give her your blood, and she will awaken in a few hours.”
I nod, turning to leave.
“Cole,” she calls out, “after you’ve given her your blood, return to me. Immediately.”
I swallow the words that rise in my throat, all the things I want to spit at her. “Yes.”
“Remember, you’re mine now.”
“Yes.”
If I have to endure hell for Davina, so be it.