Chapter 14
White noise pierces through the room in an ever-growing scream. Or maybe it’s my mind screaming, my eyes wide and unseeing. My father put a bounty on me. My father wants me dragged back alive. But why? Why not summon me? Naturally, I would ignore it, but he wouldn’t know that. Unless…
I swallow. Unless he doesn’t want to risk me bolting like a hunted rabbit.
My trembling breaths don’t fully reach my lungs. Seven years. Aunt Viola tried to warn me, to give me time to run, but I missed the opportunity. I could’ve taken that head start, but I hesitated. Now I’m trapped in the Bauer estate.
If only I could get to my grimoire, but The Arachnomicon is in my way. “Fucking spider.”
“What?”
My eyes snap back to Valen. We’re both sitting on the ground now, facing each other while he waits patiently for me to finish panicking. I scan him with cool, objective eyes. What do the Bauers want? “Why is Vincentius trying to collect me? Surely the Bauer coffers aren’t dry.”
“He went to retrieve you before anyone else could. You’re safe here.
The Archweaver may want you, but he would be a fool to try to force his way in here.
We want you back, Tori.” His eyes glow. “Mistakes were made, but there’s still time to reverse them.
” His lips curl in a cold smile. “But perhaps you still need some enticing. How does Atticus’ head on a platter sound? ”
Breath hisses through my teeth. “You’d do that? Kill the Archweaver?”
He shrugs as though we’re not discussing the murder of the Order’s leader and my father. “Atticus is losing his grip. Some say he’s lived too long.” His eyes harden. “You’ve been gone for seven years. A lot has changed in that time.”
It’s hard to breathe again. I rub my aching chest, unable to hold his gaze any longer.
Too much is happening, too much revealed.
Hell, too much is wanted from me. I long for my loft that sits above my shop, with its magical books that bloom, making my modest home smell like flowers.
I want Jinx’s fluffy body in my arms, my nails scratching the back of her neck, while that deep, hypnotic purr rumbles soothingly against my aching sternum.
Jinx. My eyes close. If my familiar were here, we could talk and plan. But she’s not, so I need the next best thing, who happens to be trapped on the other side of the wall. “I want to talk to Lucas. Alone.”
Valen scoffs and eases back on his hands. “Did we not already go through this? No.”
Jealousy from Valen is not something I’m familiar with. He was always confident in his position in my heart. Now, he glares vicious hatred at the wall keeping me separated from Lucas. I need to be careful. “He’s my business partner. Obviously, this will affect him.”
He turns his cold glare on me. “I’m not an idiot, Astoria. Don’t treat me as such.”
Something darker slithers up my chest, changing the ache within into a building pressure as suspicion narrows my eyes.
My magic sizzles across my skin in response.
I barely manage the breath control to calm it.
I shift forward to rest my weight on my hands and glare at my former lover. “Where is Lucas?”
Bitterness leaks into his tone. “You doubt my word?”
“The word of a betrayer? Yes.”
His jaw clenches. My words strike him deep, and he leans away from me, but he does not drop my gaze.
I force in a steadying breath, my ribs still aching from being in a corset for too long.
“Don’t look like that. Your father abandoned me.
You abandoned me, Valen. I trusted you both and I was humiliated in front of the entire Order.
” The old wound stings, my heart aching and voice straining.
“And then, when I was defenseless with no allies, the Archweaver finally got what he wanted. He muzzled me, Valen. My own father tortured me because he thought I no longer had anyone to support me!”
My words reverberate in the room and something in Valen cracks. His eyes shift, the memory returning to us both.
The winds of my attempted curse die down with a thrum of power from the Archweaver. He stands before me, taking up more space than before, his eyes glowing with an opalescent hue that only the Archweaver possesses.
I tremble, my fingers ice cold, my chest burning as sweat slicks my body.
I force my spine to straighten, flinching at the sharp pain in my heart it causes.
Jinx is too far away to help. My father banished her from his estate long ago.
She prowls somewhere within the forest, waiting for me to step beyond the gates.
What happens next is only comprehended in flashes.
My father’s immense power bears down on me and I silently scream.
Pain I’ve never felt before steals my vision and robs me of my voice.
He’s yelling, his voice booming like claps of thunder.
Other weavers enter, restraining me and dragging me through the halls.
The hard floor jolts me back to awareness after I’m thrown into his office.
I barely get to my elbows before something ice cold and metal wraps around my mouth.
A dampening muzzle, the foulest of all weaver punishments. A gruesome, archaic device of pure iron that wraps around the wearer’s mouth and head in a thick band. The prolonged, uninterrupted contact with iron snuffs out the magic by severing the connection between soul and thread until unlocked.
For three days, I curl in a corner of my father’s empty office, too terrified to move. I can’t eat. I can’t drink. I can barely breathe. The stinging iron clamped over my mouth leaves behind compounding blisters that burst and bleed.
Never in recorded history has the muzzle been used for so long. I tremble, my body too weak to do anything else. Hunger and thirst are overwhelming.
Then the door crashes open in an explosion of chaotic magic that singes my oily hair. Viola marches in, her head swiveling, her long, dark hair swaying about her back until she finally turns to where I cower.
She stumbles back, her eyes misting. “Oh… my little love.”
I sob, but there are no tears in my dry eyes. She rushes forward, her skirts swishing, when an arm wraps around her middle and throws her back. My father has finally returned to his office.
The argument between the Androclaria siblings shakes the estate’s foundations. Magic and words are hurled at each other, my aunt ripping through his shield for the satisfaction of slapping him across the face and screaming, “You selfish monster!”
But nothing sways the Archweaver. Hours pass and Viola’s voice rasps from yelling. Then Vincentius, followed by Valen, enters the room. Ice crackles along the walls, Vincentius’ eyes near white as he turns to my father. Icicles drip down the chandelier when he hisses, “You swore she would be safe.”
My father folds his arms, head tilting back. “And you swore she would be controlled. We’re both disappointed now, aren’t we?”
My head spins too much to pay attention to the argument that follows. Valen’s ashen face appears before me. His fingers tremble as he attempts to break the muzzle, frostbite nipping at my cheeks from his flares of power.
Valen is roughly yanked away and I blink up at Vincentius. His pale face is splotchy with a trembling rage I’ve never witnessed from him before.
Raw power crackles around me when Vincentius grabs the muzzle.
His magic tears through the locks and a layer of my skin peels from my face as he rips the muzzle from me.
My magic restores after days of nothingness in a fiery pain that robs me of sound, my vision flashing as the air seizes in my lungs.
My brain throbs within my skull, ribs aching like they’ve been partially cooked from my Dual Threads reigniting. Blood trickles down my throat and I slide along the wall until collapsing to the polished floor.
Vincentius’ voice echoes oddly in my ears, “I’m taking her. Any attempt to stop me will be brought before the Council, Atticus.”
My father growls, “You dare to threaten me?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
But I’ve had enough of the foolishness of men.
It has been eighteen years of suffering under it.
Vincentius and Valen may have appeared to assist Viola in freeing me, but it is because of them that I am in this situation.
They trusted my father not to be cruel when they should’ve known better.
The Archweaver always planned this end for me the moment I showed what little sway he has over me.
Becoming Heir, being recognized by all the Order as being worthy, had been my only hope.
Valen’s fingers brush me and I flinch away. With all my remaining strength, I hiss, “No. I’d rather die under that thing than to be under you again.”
Pain lances across Valen’s face, his eyes shining with brimming emotion. I glare all my hatred upon him, not breaking eye contact even when Aunt Vi wraps her thin arms around me. Only when she carries me from the office do I look away.
Breath sucks into my tight lungs, my throat barely open enough to permit the air through. I shift my gaze to the bedroom’s fireplace. With trembling fingers, I pull my robe up and tighten it around me.
A crackling hum raises my hair, and I whip around to face Valen.
Something dark washes over him, seeping into the cracks of his composure.
The shadows deepen, his voice deceptively calm.
“You asked if I’d kill Atticus?” He leans forward and the power flows from him, so heady that I sway towards it.
He hisses, “Gladly. With a fucking smile.”
Heat curls in me. My eyelids become heavy and my lips part.
He slides my hair behind my ear and speaks softly, almost tenderly.
“I will never forgive him for what he did. I will never forgive that it made you run. I was an idiot for not seeing the threat he is, and even more of an idiot for not going after you. We hoped—hell, I hoped—that you would find your way back. I should’ve known you wouldn’t return.
You’d survive and excel at it.” His gaze drifts to my lips and back.
“Tell me I’m not wasting my time here, Tori. I need to know.”
There’s not enough air. “Valen.”
Such sweet words, full of hope that maybe if I reached out, Valen would catch me.
That it was all reversible. But if he knew what I did to Alasdair…
He might not stay with me. My fingers curl.
I don’t know this adult version of Valen and I was already disappointed by the younger one. “I… don’t know.”
A small tremor in his fingers betrays him. “Do you think there’s hope for forgiveness?”
“Valen.” It’s torture to keep from comforting him.
His hand spasms like he wants to grip the back of my neck and pull me forward, but he resists. “What do I need to do? Anything, Tori. Tell me.”
There it is. My window. I need to seize it, though the mental effort to do so is tremendous. “Then help me, Valen, and do it because you want to make amends, and not because this is your chance to force my hand with the Order.”
Silence rings as he searches me over and over, like if he keeps looking hard enough, he’ll be able to unearth all my secrets. I hold my breath, my nails biting into my palms. The pain centers me, keeps my face distressed and needy.
His lips thin. “Perhaps… I could trade the amulet and my help in exchange for you agreeing to meet with my father and hear what he has to say. If I cannot convince you to return, then perhaps he can.” His hand slips away. “But I require you to make this decision, here and now.”
I release my breath in a huff of poorly concealed rage. “I just said I need to talk to—”
“I know what you said.” His head tilts back and he pins me with a harsh stare. “But you’re asking a lot of me and getting a good deal in return. So, I ask to be let into the fold. You make a deal with me. Show me you’ll honor it.”
Like all Bauer deals, there’s something sneaky underneath. If I agree now, then I’m snubbing Lucas. Valen needs that small betrayal from me to show favoritism. If he wants me back, then he needs to drive away his perceived romantic rival. And this will definitely drive a wedge between Lucas and me.
But it’s a good deal. A really, really good deal.
Valen withdraws his pocket watch. The gold glints in the light. He holds it up. “This deal expires in thirty seconds. Then you’ll be locked in here until my father comes home.”
My breath shudders. My eyes dart to the wall that separates me from Lucas.
“Twenty seconds.”
My heart is pounding. Lucas is going to be mad. If it were just the amulet, he wouldn’t care, but Valen wants to be let in. That means we’ll be a team.
“Fifteen.”
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck it all to hell. “Fine!” My heart stutters and I release a slow breath. Turning from the wall, I meet Valen’s gaze. “I’ll take that deal.”
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Lucas will see reason. Maybe it will all work out.
My hand extends. Valen’s smooth palm meets mine, his fingers curling around in a firm grip. Our magics twine together in an intoxicating dance, sealing the deal. I shiver, heat melding confusingly with the cold unease of a binding agreement.
Valen smirks darkly at me, worsening these sensations. “I look forward to working together, Tori.”