Chapter 43
43
ROMAN
A nastasia crawls back onto the bed. Regardless of my denials, she still thinks she can seduce me. She looks like a wraith, her pale body covered in smears of blood.
“It’s a lost cause.”
“What is?” She pushes aside the fabric of my shirt.
“This seduction. My heart belongs to someone else.” As soon as I say the words, a glow flares up in my left hand, and warmth flows down my arm like liquid. It pools in my heart with my dark magic, and nothing has ever felt so right.
“Impossible,” Anastasia hisses, raking her nails across my ribs and leaving four scratches in their wake.
I tug at the ties around my wrists once again, nearly grunting when it gives, and my palm slides free. The pain of the rough rope abrades my skin and stops me dead in my tracks. My wrists throb where the rope cut into them.
“Oh, poor baby. Don’t like to have your perfect skin marked? I’ll kiss it better.” Anastasia leans down to put her mouth on my body. Leaving the questions about my curse for later, I snatch my wrist from the rope and wrap it around her throat. My magic goes to work immediately, tugging at her soul and bringing it under my control.
“You may have some pathetic amount of persuasion magic, but I can control your very life force.” My voice is menacing.
She gapes at me, her lips gulping for air like a fish.
“You’re going to stop touching me and go sit in that chair.” I squeeze her soul, and she cries out. I’ve never experienced the pain of it before, but I’ve been told it feels like someone is crushing your organs from the inside of your body.
Anastasia rolls off the bed and falls to the floor. My magic is connected to her soul now, and I don’t need to have physical contact to continue controlling it. With one flick of my hand, I could rip the filthy essence out of her body and leave her a vacant heap forever. She scampers over to the chair in the corner, only this time, there’s no seduction in the move. There’s only the desperation to obey and to get away from me that drives her.
I free my other hand from the rope, rubbing at the sore spots on my wrists and wincing at the pain. What the fuck. There’s a black mark on my ring finger. I lift my hand to inspect it. Two intertwined vines slowly creep across my finger like ink being laid on a page. They form a ring. My chest fills with warmth when I look at the mark. Briar and Tristan had similar marks in the illusion Ambrose created. It’s a fucking fated bond.
A stab of anxiety rushes through me. Where is Josephine? A sense of urgency to get back to her overrides all other emotions. Jo is in trouble. The knowledge hits me like a premonition, which is not magic I have. The door splinters open. I spin around, ready to fight. My hands fly up, fire on the tips of my fingers.
“Roman,” Bram shouts as the destroyed door bangs against the wall. Bursting into the room, his magic pours out of him like a physical shadow, cloaking the space in a blanket of darkness. He begins pulling it back a moment later, getting himself under control.
“Fuck. Bram. What are you doing here?” The last I saw him, he was at his burning house.
“We came to save you.” Ava pushes past my brother and eyes my half-dressed state and a naked Anastasia in the corner of the room. “From yourself, apparently.” This last bit is said with a lot less enthusiasm. Bram’s shadows have all but retreated, leaving shredded bedding and drapes in their wake. Ava curses under her breath.
Ambrose and Stellan file into the room a second later. Ambrose’s eyebrows shoot up when he sees Anastasia. “Should we leave?”
Stellan follows his gaze, and a snarl tears from his lips. “If you fucked that piece of shit, I will pluck your eyeballs out so Josephine never has to look you in the eyes again.” Stellan lunges for me. Bram and Ambrose grab him and hold him back, but he’s a big fucker.
“This was not consensual,” I snap. Ava’s wandering around the room like she can’t see the chaos behind her. She picks up the potion on the nightstand and sniffs. “What is this?”
“She attempted to use it so she could fuck me.”
Everyone turns to stare at Anastasia. Ava gets the closest, an absolute look of disgust on her face. “You tried to rape him?”
“A woman can’t rape a man,” Anastasia spits out, so fucking superior.
Ava’s fist slams into Anastasia’s already bloody nose. She leans down so they’re face to face. “You’re what’s wrong with this world.”
I untie the ropes at my ankles and fix my clothes, immensely entertained as Ava puts the witch in her place. Dropping a hand to her shoulder, I squeeze and murmur a soft thank you. Ava steps aside, her arms crossed like she’s just waiting for Anastasia to make another move. She might wear the frumpiest clothing I’ve ever seen and look frazzled half the time, but it’s easy to see why she and Josephine are such good friends.
Anastasia’s moaning, cupping her hands around her nose. I stand in front of her, letting my disgust show on my face. “You deserve more, but I’m not as vile as you are.”
My magic pulls at her soul again, but this time, it’s to take control of her body at the cellular level. I twist my hand, dragging forth a word that spans across her chest.
Predator.
It looks like a scar that never healed properly. It’s red and raised and will never fade.
Anastasia looks down and screams. “What have you done?” She scratches at the scar, leaving welts on her skin and making it bleed.
“I’ve let the world know what kind of witch you are. Have fun explaining that.” I turn and walk away, needing to get out of this room. Away from this fucking house.
“Is Josephine still at the chateau?” I’m desperate for one of them to tell me yes, but I already know deep down that she isn’t. The ache in my chest, the fear fogging my head, it’s all because of her.
The two vines circling my finger send a jolt of magic up my hand, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes to find her.