Chapter 17 #3
“It’s a two-part question. Nothing too difficult for you.” Lucas waits until my glass touches my lips. “What exactly did you mean by ‘the back’ when you asked us to flip a coin?”
I spit my wine back in my cup, a hacking cough stealing my ability to speak.
Lucas smirks at me so evilly that he could rival Valen’s. He takes a bite of pie, chewing in thoughtful reverie as if he hadn’t planned this for the last day and a half. “And my second question is, which one of us were you hoping would get the honor of fucking your a—”
I throw my hands out, wine splattering across the white linen, and screech, “Stop!” I’m beet red and snatch my napkin to dab at my mouth. Composed as much as I can be, I scowl at him. “Can’t you let anything go? I was delirious with potions and lingering dark magic!”
An aristocratic drawl cuts in. “I, too, am curious.”
My head whips towards Valen. Of course, this is how their new bonding will present: tormenting me. Valen smirks widely. “How did that devious mind of yours imagine such a scenario?”
I’m too exhausted for this. “I didn’t—”
“You’ve never expressed interest in being with two men before.” Valen picks up his own glass with his fingertips. “With other women? Oh, yes. We had a particularly good time sharing Samara.”
Lucas’ eyes light with excitement. “What happened with Samara?”
I squeak and Valen takes a careful sip before answering for me. “We took turns eating—”
“Stop!” I’m about to explode.
Valen smirks. “Did you want to take Samara’s place? Your magician and I can flip a coin as you so eloquently suggested.”
My eyes widen. I remember vividly the way Samara sat on Valen’s cock, her legs spread wide for me to lick her until she came apart, writhing in Valen’s strong hold.
I swallow, face burning. I doubt the men could tolerate each other long enough for a proper threesome, but it doesn’t stop my mind from running wild with the possibilities.
I let out a shivering breath, my gaze darting to Lucas before dropping.
I’m far too curious about which role he would prefer.
I already know Valen would want me to sit on him, so he could whisper deliciously in my ear, feeling my back press against his chest so he didn’t miss even the smallest of quivers.
He’d sit in the chair, his magic forcing my legs to remain on the outside of his, so I stayed splayed.
His hand feather-soft against my breasts…
And then, there would be Lucas on his knees before me. Our kiss, hot, passionate, comes to mind and suddenly I can imagine the feel of it lower.
I chug the remainder of my wine in hopes that it’ll calm me.
I’d slap myself, but it would bring Valen too much satisfaction.
The heat blazing in my face mirrors the inferno between my legs.
Overwhelmed, I snarl my words with more anger than I mean.
“Can you please focus? We have much more important things to discuss. Like how best to get the amulet on the spider.”
They’re ignoring me. Lucas’ eyes lock with Valen’s. “Was it a contest?”
Valen’s head tilts. “No. More sexual torment of a mutual friend. Astoria always loved a good pussy.”
“Oh, I know.”
Cold suddenly douses my growing passion. My eyes flare, snapping to Lucas, then Valen. If Lucas tells Valen I haven’t been with a man since our breakup, I will die of embarrassment. It would reveal too much of my complicated knot of emotions that I haven’t begun to untangle.
Valen catches my reaction, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
I speak far too loudly. “The amulet!” I give Lucas a meaningful look and kick him hard in the shins. He barely flinches. “We should get it back to the spider quickly. But before I go,” my eyes slide to Valen, “I was wondering something.”
Valen’s smirk is still far too mischievous. “Is it—”
I cut him off quickly. “How is Viola?”
The unease of being so close to the estate aside, I miss my aunt horribly. We haven’t seen each other in seven years. Staying at the Bauers’ offers me a rare chance to see her that I might not get again. “Does she still come here often? Do you think you could extend an invite before I leave?”
Valen’s brow lifts. “You’d like me to arrange a meeting?”
My face lights in eagerness. “If you could, but only if it’s in secret. I’d like to avoid my father at all costs.”
“I’d be happy to assist, but the problem is getting her here.”
My gut clenches. “What do you mean?”
His slow sip is maddening. “The Archweaver isn’t letting her out of his sight, let alone off the grounds of his estate.”
“Why?” The force of my heart jumping turns the word into a harsh snap.
Valen doesn’t comment on my tone and instead sets his glass down, his fingers lingering on it. “Unfortunately, I am not privy to the Archweaver’s private thoughts. You’ll have to ask him.”
My mind turns, mulling over this new information. “Or maybe you’ve got it flipped. Maybe it’s Viola who’s choosing to stick close to the Archweaver.” Valen stares at me and I continue the thought. “The bounty on me. Maybe she’s concerned with my safety.”
Valen spins the glass slowly. “It’s a large bounty for someone that wasn’t particularly hard to find.”
I hold his gaze, like I’m trying to read his mind. Did he read the letter? My head tilts. “If she’s so hard to reach, how did you get the letter from her?”
“It was delivered with instructions. My father told me to be the messenger and I obeyed.” He refills his glass. “If you wish to see Viola, I’m afraid you’ll have to go to your father’s estate to do it.”
My skin tightens with a chill and my hands curl into fists, my palms clammy. Maybe I shouldn’t have had such a rich lunch. It’s like a lead weight in my gut.
My lips are numb. “When was the last time anyone has seen Vi?”
Valen’s head tilts, eyes narrowing. “We haven’t spoken to her in six months.”
All the air leaves the room. Valen and Lucas start bickering over plans, but what is said is lost on me as I fall deep into my psyche.
Six months. That’s when I stopped leaving the shop.
A cold, unholy feeling prickled my skin and my magic hummed each time I reached for the shop’s doorknob.
I know well enough to heed such dire warnings.
The memory of the iron’s burn on my mouth jolts hot agony down my center. Tears burn my eyes. What if that’s where Viola is now? Shivering in a corner of the Archweaver’s office, magic sucked from her, waiting for help that doesn’t come.
Purpose clenches my heart, hardening my gaze. No. Help is coming. No god will save my father if I find my aunt in such a way. My vengeance will sweep over that estate with such cruelty, it’ll make my curse seem like a silly jest.
And yet… The estate. My family home. That cold, lifeless place. Could I go back? Walk down the halls that used to close in on me? Could I even breathe in such a place?
My throat closes and my fists tighten. Returning, even in secret, means risking running into my father.
Would checking on Viola be worth such a thing?
My gut screams at me no and to run away as fast as I can, yet I stay rooted in my seat.
I must know what has happened to Aunt Vi…
even if it means facing my father again.
Lucas is laughing, the sound distant, and Valen hisses something vicious.
Magic is thick in the air, cracking and humming.
Lucas’ rings flicker. My heart pounds. Hot and cold ripple over me until I sweat.
They don’t notice. No one notices. I close my eyes, trying to slow my erratic breathing.
Trying to slow my heart, but it doesn’t work.
I need Jinx. My familiar’s rhythmic purring around my shoulders would ease the burden.
But Jinx isn’t here. She’s far away, guarding our home in Havenport.
No, what I need is my grimoire. My threads are warring within my soul and only its power can force them into submission.
My magic throbs, stretched thin from the healing. The fissure on my sternum aches. A pull that I cannot allow to break free of my control nearly slips. Like two magnets, there are two pieces within me that want to touch but can never be allowed to do so.
My breath shivers, my eyes squeezing tighter. I need my grimoire to regain my hold on the pieces. I need it. If I don’t get it soon, then everything I’ve worked for will fall.
But I don’t have the time. My life will crumble if my father gets ahold of me. The Archweaver will show no mercy. I need Viola, who could be locked up in a hellish prison.
I’m alone. All alone and about to face my father with my curse-damaged magic. Hopelessness shakes my resolve, my eyes burning.
The air ripples, the sensation caressing my face. Slowly, my eyes open. The wall behind Valen shifts, morphing. A leg steps through it, pulling out a man in an immaculate sapphire suit, a pin on his lapel glinting in the light.
Valen’s back thumps in his seat and he does not tear his gaze away from his glaring match with Lucas. “Welcome home, Father.”
I can’t breathe. My mind spins, the sensation only getting worse when Vincentius Bauer the Third turns his icy stare on me.
The family resemblance between father and son is strong.
Same eyes, same dark hair. Same creamy complexion.
But where Valen is lithe from his mother’s side, Vincentius is broad, his shoulders cutting an impressive angle in his clean suit.
His thick mustache follows the latest fashion, while Valen prefers being cleanshaven.
Magic preserves the weaver’s body perfectly.
He looks like a human in his early forties, instead of a powerful weaver well over one hundred.
His voice is softer than Valen’s, silk to his son’s velvet. “Hello, Astoria. I should’ve known it was you when I found my sphinx roasted like a lamb on a spit.”
I can’t breathe, can’t think. This man ruined so much. I could be the Heir right now with Valen warming my bed. I could be planning my wedding, bickering with Rossana and Viola over dresses and the guest list. I could be living here, happy and content.
But instead of pure rage, I’m filled with an odd mixture of terror and relief. If anyone can get me to Viola without my father knowing, it’s Vincentius Bauer the Third. I’ll need to play the game and craftily manipulate him, but I can do it. For Viola, I’ll best this man.
So instead of cursing him into a horrific, slow decaying death, I beam cheekily. “Were you fond of it?”
His eyes narrow. “She was an ancient, powerful creature.”
My smile grows. “Whoopsies.”