Chapter 7 #2
He stared down at her. “I warned you.”
She squirmed in his arms.
“Don’t scream,” he warned, his voice low. He lifted his hand, slow, one finger at a time, his gaze never leaving hers.
Magic swirled through her. Ravenna panicked—she couldn’t use it, she couldn’t. “Release me.”
Saturnino held himself still, immovable, calm and poised. Cool breath brushed against her cheeks when he spoke. “This is how easy it is for me.”
Her heartbeat roared in her ears. “What is?”
His chilling whisper cut through the night. “To get my hands on you.”
A shiver slid down her spine. She inhaled through her nose, fighting her magic’s siren call, but for the first time in years she was wavering. It would be too easy to give in. To let the magic engulf her senses, overrunning her body and control.
She would rather fight with a matchstick or a spoon, with her bare hands, than use something as detestable and shameful as her dark magic. “Please don’t make me do this,” Ravenna whispered. “Per favore.”
Saturnino shifted her in the cage of his arms, dipped his chin to better see into her face. He pulled his dark brows together into a quick frown. Moonlight cut across his brutally handsome face. “What do you think you could possibly do to me?”
It was the derisive tone in his voice that pushed her over. The magic within her flared, and as if of their own accord, her hands snaked up to his cheekbones. Ravenna curled her fingers into a tight fist. “No, I won’t do it. I won’t. Let me go.”
Saturnino’s lip curled. “Do it.”
The magic shot out of her, through the tips of her fingers, forcing her hands open, forcing her hands to grip the sides of his face. Saturnino’s eyes widened as a current of powerful energy struck him—
Ravenna held her breath, tears gathering in her eyes.
She tried to pull her hands away but the magic held on, a force that knew no bounds.
Everything around them faded, it was only the two of them, alone in the night with the sharp blade of her magic piercing him.
Saturnino locked his jaw, his hands flexed against her upper arms. The magic poured out of her, but the worst didn’t happen, her worst didn’t happen.
The knight ought to be dead, or at the very least wounded.
It flared once more, and then snapped back inside her, rushing up both arms, curling inside her chest. Her skin was feverishly hot, a living, breathing furnace that fed on her emotions like kindling.
Ravenna gaped at him.
Her magic was lethal. To everyone.
A terrifying expression crept over his face. “Is that all, human?”
Ravenna slowly closed her mouth. Her surroundings came back into focus, and her body prickled with the sense of danger that curled around her. Saturnino held her in an iron grip. Her blade was lost amid the tall grass. And her magic could not save her.
“There is nowhere you can go where I won’t find you.” He dipped his chin lower, his mouth drawing close to her temple. “Don’t make me chase you again.”
Saturnino released her and drew away, retrieving her dagger. He held it out to her, handle first.
Ravenna glanced down at it briefly, before lifting her gaze, brow furrowed. “Why would you give this back to me?”
Saturnino arched a black brow. When he spoke, his words sounded like a challenge—or a dare. “You can’t hurt me.”
She took the weapon from him, then she bent at the waist and tucked the knife back into her boot.
Ravenna straightened, wary, conscious of the eerie way he held himself: too still, hardly breathing, immobile.
Firelight from the guttering torches bracketing the shuttered windows spilled over him.
He regarded her with a contemplative look on his perfect face, lips tight.
His dark gaze scraped from the top of her head to the hem of her gown.
Slowly, he drew his eyes to hers once more.
The knight wore dark green hose and a billowy tunic that made her think of a bowl of cream.
His black hair fell in disordered waves, brushing the tops of his shoulders.
His voice was a quiet whisper. “Where would you have gone?”
“Home.”
“Volterra won’t take you back. Perhaps your family might, but if you had any sense at all, you’d do the decent thing and not endanger their livelihoods or their lives by returning to them. The life you knew was lost the second you revealed yourself as a witch.”
Her throat felt narrow, too tight. She looked away from him, from his awful perfection and cruel honesty. It was Cavaliere Saturnino who was lethal, not her. He knew exactly where to strike, knew exactly how to twist the knife for a mortal blow.
Ravenna thought of her family and how she’d likely never see them again. She wouldn’t be there to help raise her siblings. That life was forever gone.
Saturnino struck again. “Cut them out of your life and forget them.”
Everything inside her revolted at his words. “Even if I never see them again, I will carry them with me for the rest of my life.”
“What a terrible way to live.”
“Better than yours,” she countered.
He gave her a flat look. “You’ve wasted enough of my time. Let’s go.”
Ravenna stiffened, pressing herself as close to the side of the building as possible. “Don’t touch me.”
“Do I need to?” he asked. “Because I will if you don’t come willingly.”
She pushed away from the wall.
Saturnino turned and led her back to the front door, the moon high above their heads.
He didn’t check to see if she followed; he didn’t need to, and the knowing of it grated her.
He remained silent as he opened the door for her, silent up the stairs, and down the whole corridor to her room, where her guard sat, his head slumped forward, deep in sleep. The other chair stood empty.
“Useless,” Saturnino muttered in disgust.
He kicked the guard’s booted foot and the man lurched to his feet, pale eyes blinking rapidly as he took in the situation.
His gaze swung to Ravenna, and realization dawned on him one sickening beat at a time.
His shoulders tightened, and he visibly braced himself before shifting to meet Saturnino’s judgment.
The poor man seemed to shrink at Saturnino’s scathing and brutal expression, and Ravenna had to squelch the wild impulse to tell the guard to run as fast and as far as he could go into the surrounding hills.
“Where’s the other guard?”
“I don’t know,” the guard said. “The privy, I would assume.”
“You are captain,” Saturnino said in a voice that could have cut through bone. “And you set the example for the rest of the retinue.”
A line of sweat beaded the guard’s hairline. “I don’t know what I was thinking, or what happened.”
“You don’t know,” Saturnino said in that same awful voice. “You failed at your job, that’s what happened.”
The guard’s hand dropped reflexively to the hilt of his sword, sensing the palpable tension steeping the air between them. He swallowed hard; his face bloodless. He had been rude and awful to her earlier, but Ravenna couldn’t help but think of a cornered animal awaiting his master’s punishment.
“It won’t happen again,” the guard said. His eyes turned pleading, and Ravenna furrowed her brow, not understanding why the man seemed terrified for his life—
“You’re right, it won’t.” Saturnino moved in a blur, and a dagger flashed in his pale fist. The blade glinted gold and silver from the flickering oil lamps in the hallway. He swiped at the guard, one brutal strike near his ribs. The blade sunk into flesh, hilt deep.
The guard slumped against the wall, colliding with the chair; it toppled onto its side with a loud clatter. His hands clutched Saturnino’s immovable hold on the weapon. “No, please—”
Saturnino twisted the knife.
The man groaned, clenching his eyes. Saturnino yanked out the dagger, blood gushed out of the wound, and the guard tried to stop the incessant flow, but it seeped through his fingers. Eventually, his grip loosened and then went slack.
He didn’t open his eyes again.
It was over and done within a matter of seconds.
Ravenna pressed her hands against her cheeks, her head swimming as the scent of metal assaulted her nose. Saturnino bent forward and used the man’s tunic to wipe the blade clean, first one side and then the other. He straightened and then turned toward her.
His eyes were flat and emotionless. Saturnino opened her bedroom door for Ravenna. “Inside.”
She didn’t dare argue, and as she walked past him, he said, “Don’t run from me again, Ravenna.”
He locked the door behind her.