Chapter 35 Raffaele
RAFFAELE
I closed my eyes, focusing on the bond. Vivian was close, I could tell. She had to be on the estate.
Inhaling slowly, I centered myself and reached deeper into the bond.
It acted like an internal compass, and the farther Vivian strayed from me, the more my restlessness swelled.
Despite the absence of her marker on the map, I didn’t feel that gnawing emptiness or frantic pull that would come if she had ventured off the property.
Instead, there was a simmering tension beneath my sternum, a subtle hum that assured me she was still somewhere within the grounds.
As I focused on that sensation, it manifested as a steady warmth in my chest—maddeningly vague, but insistent.
Her presence was a soft glow behind closed eyes, a gentle current of energy that neither spiked nor waned.
Every second I failed to find her chipped at my patience.
She was near, and that knowledge anchored me, but her disappearance was no simple matter of wandering off. Something else was at play.
I was already moving, my mind racing faster than my feet could carry me.
I checked my room first, my magic flaring as I tore through the space, pulling open doors and cabinets as though she might somehow be tucked away, hidden from sight.
She has to be here. But the room was empty, the sheets on my bed untouched. A cold knot formed in my chest.
I stormed down the hall to her old room. She retreated here when this fucked-up arrangement became too much. I slammed the door open, calling her name even as my instincts screamed the truth I didn’t want to accept.
Her laptop was powered down, her books and notes stacked neatly. My pulse pounded in my ears, each beat louder than the last as I tried to piece together the fragments of what could have happened.
Think, Raffaele. Think.
I whirled around, my shadows flaring out in sharp tendrils as I stalked through the mansion. The kitchen, the dining hall, the sitting room where she sometimes took a break. Each place mocked me with its emptiness.
“Vivian!” My voice echoed off the high ceilings, but no one answered. The staff I passed offered concerned glances, their murmured reassurances only fueling my panic.
Where could she have gone?
I burst out onto the estate grounds, the cool breeze slapping my face. I ran toward the overlook near the sea, my breath ragged. She loved that spot. Maybe she had gone there to think, to find some peace. Please let her be there.
But when I reached the overlook, all I found was the empty expanse of land, the sea stretching endlessly beyond it. “Fuck!” I spun around, scanning the woods behind me. Shadows pooled at my feet, eager to be unleashed, but they offered no answers. Think, Raffaele. Think.
As I started back toward the mansion, a new thought gripped me. What if she tried to escape? I’d told myself I wouldn’t let her leave, but what if my failing magic had given her the opportunity? The thought sent a sharp pang of loss and fear straight to my chest.
But no. Vivian wouldn’t leave like that, not without something bigger at play.
As I turned back toward the mansion, a sharp, visceral pang stopped me dead in my tracks.
Panic. Pain. Hers.
The bond roared to life, the intensity of her fear slamming into me like a physical blow. My knees buckled, and I clutched at my chest, gasping as the rawness of her terror flooded my senses.
“Vivian…” Her name escaped me—a plea, a prayer—as adrenaline surged through my veins.
She was alive, but trapped. In agony.
The bond screamed her distress, the connection between us a lifeline and a torment all at once.
My vision blurred as I staggered back toward the mansion, my shadows clawing at the walls in a frenzy.
Each step felt like wading through quicksand, my body fighting against the sheer force of her anguish.
And then, like a lightning strike, clarity pierced through the chaos.
My father.
My waning magic had allowed him to detect her, to see her as the human she really was, not a prisoner of war. Fuck.
The thought sent a chill racing down my spine, colder than the wind tearing through the estate. He’d promised to destroy everything I held dear.
I gritted my teeth, my hands balling into fists. If he’d taken her, if he’d dared lay a hand on her—
My vision darkened at the edges, fury drowning out every other emotion.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
But first, I had to find her. Save her.
I broke into a full sprint toward the house. She was alive, I could feel that much. But she was in pain, and that pain was bleeding into me, a sharp, searing ache that made my vision blur at the edges.
I tore through the mansion, heading for the basement—his quarters. The air grew colder with every step, his oppressive magic pressing in on me from all sides. When I reached the heavy doors, I slammed into an invisible barrier that jolted me back.
“What the fuck?” I growled, my shadows recoiling from the impact.
I pressed my hands against the invisible wall, pushing against it with my magic, but it didn’t budge.
He’d reinforced his quarters with barriers I couldn’t penetrate, a cruel mockery of my own faltering powers.
No wonder I couldn’t detect Vivian’s necklace.
The son of a bitch had warded his quarters, and my weakening magic couldn’t penetrate them.
I could feel her on the other side. The bond flickered wildly, her pain and terror bleeding through in waves that left me shaking. My fists slammed against the barrier, my shadows lashing out uselessly. “Vivian!” I roared, my voice cracking with desperation.
The agony I felt coming from her was both physical and emotional, a raw, unfiltered scream of fear and helplessness that made something inside me snap. My shadows surged again, slamming into the barrier with enough force to rattle the walls, but it held firm.
“Damn you!” I bellowed. “Let me in, you coward!”
But there was no answer, only the suffocating silence of the basement and the echoes of my own voice. I punched the barrier again, the impact reverberating up my arm. Breathing hard, I stepped back, the bond screaming at me to act, to do something.
For the first time in years, I felt completely and utterly powerless.
“I swear to every fucking god,” I snarled, “if you hurt her, I will rip you apart with my bare hands.”
But even as the words left my lips, I knew they were hollow. My father had already hurt her. I could feel it in every fractured breath, every wave of anguish that coursed through the bond.
And it was breaking me.
The barrier hummed against my palms, refusing to yield no matter how fiercely I pushed against it.
My shadows lashed out in frustration, pounding uselessly against the magical boundary.
My father’s magic was strong—stronger than I’d anticipated—but this was my estate, my domain, and I wasn’t about to let him keep me out. Not when he had Vivian.
Her pain pulsed through the bond, sharp and unrelenting. Every wave of agony she felt crashed into me, each one slicing away at my focus, my control. Breathe, Raffaele. I forced myself to close my eyes and inhale deeply, centering the storm of emotions threatening to consume me.
I couldn’t let him win. Not this time.
The bond between us flared again, a desperate cry that left me reeling. The overwhelming fear and humiliation in her emotions burned hotter than any physical pain. My hands trembled as I pressed them flat against the barrier, channeling everything I had into my shadows.
I won’t lose her. I can’t.
The stories I’d heard growing up clawed their way to the forefront of my mind—rumors of emotional states so extreme that they bypassed magical limitations.
I’d always dismissed them as exaggerated tales told by the desperate.
But now, with Vivian’s life hanging in the balance, I clung to that possibility like a lifeline.
If there was even a sliver of truth to it, I would find a way.
Her sobs echoed faintly through the barrier, the sound muted but gut-wrenching. I gritted my teeth. For the first time in years, I felt the sharp sting of tears welling in my eyes. My father was trying to break me by breaking her.
And I’d be damned if I let him.
I drew on every ounce of strength I had, my shadows surging with a force that sent cracks rippling through the barrier.
The magical resistance burned against my skin, but I pushed harder, feeding the bond with my desperation, my rage, my need to save her.
Vivian’s presence flickered stronger through the connection, and I seized it, letting it fuel me.
“Vivian,” I roared, her name tearing from my throat like a battle cry. The barrier shuddered, then shattered with an ear-splitting crack, the force sending me stumbling forward into the room.
The stench hit me first—a rancid blend of rot, decay, and blood. It was suffocating, choking the air out of my lungs as I struggled to steady myself. My shadows coiled protectively around me, reacting instinctively to the threat in the room.
And then I saw her.
Vivian was bound to the center of my father’s grotesque four-poster bed, her limbs stretched taut by shadowy restraints.
Shallow cuts marked her body, her blood staining the filthy sheets beneath her.
She was completely naked, her form trembling with sobs that tore through the silence like jagged glass.
My father stood over her, his gnarled hand resting on her shoulder, his sharp, unnatural smile curving across his face. He looked up as I entered, his glowing red eyes narrowing with amusement.
“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice a venomous purr. “Look who decided to join the party. You’re a little late, my boy. I was just getting acquainted with your... wife.”
My shadows flared wildly, crackling with an energy I hadn’t felt in years. “Get your hands off her,” I snarled.