Chapter 47 Raffaele
RAFFAELE
The whip sliced through the air and landed across my chest with a sharp crack.
Agony bloomed instantly, white-hot and searing, tearing a ragged gasp from my throat.
My knees threatened to buckle, but I forced myself to stay upright.
I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
But it wasn’t just him. It was Vivian. My wife.
The woman I’d sworn to protect.
She stood before me, her body taut and trembling as if she were a puppet on strings. She gripped the handle of the whip tightly, though I could see her hand trembling. Her eyes—gods, her eyes.
They weren’t hers.
The warm, defiant light I loved was gone, replaced with a fractured, foreign hollowness. Every strike of the whip cut deeper than flesh. The pain of losing her, of seeing her like this, tore into my soul. It was infinitely worse than the sting of the weapon.
The whip came down again, this time catching my neck. Stars exploded in my vision as I staggered back, the damp coral chains digging into my wrists and holding me upright.
“Fuck,” I hissed through gritted teeth, not only from the pain, but from the sheer helplessness.
The whip hovered in the air for a moment, glowing faintly as if savoring its next move. I forced myself to look at her, to focus on the woman holding it instead of the agony it brought.
“It’s okay, Vivian,” I said. “I’m fine. I love you.”
Her hand twitched, and for a fleeting second, I thought I saw her hesitate. But then her lips pressed into a tight line, and the whip lashed out again.
The strike didn’t matter. None of it did. All I could think about was the way her shoulders shook, the way her chest rose and fell with shallow, panicked breaths.
“Vivian, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”
Her grip on the whip faltered, her gaze flicking to mine. For a brief, flickering second, I saw the real her.
“I love you.”
Her face twisted with a mixture of pain and rage. “Stop,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “Don’t say that. Don’t—”
The bond was faint but still alive, and I felt the war raging inside her. The real Vivian was there, clawing at the walls of her mind, fighting to break free.
But the bond wasn’t enough.
The whip cracked again, this time grazing my shoulder, and I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. My magic was gone, drained to near nothing by Izo’s siren’s kiss, and I felt every blow with a rawness I hadn’t experienced in years.
I glanced to the side, where Vincenzo gripped the bars of his cell so tightly his knuckles turned white. His face was a mask of rage, his muscles taut as if he could break the bars with sheer force of will.
Our magic didn’t work in the fucking dungeon
“She’s not doing this,” I said, my voice low enough for him to hear but not Vivian. “It’s him. He’s got her trapped.”
Vincenzo’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes burning with fury. “I know,” he growled. “I swear to the gods, I’ll tear that bastard limb from limb.”
His rage mirrored my own, but it was useless here. The runes etched into the walls stripped us of our magic, leaving us as little more than men. No shadows, no strength, nothing.
The whip struck again, and my knees finally buckled. I hit the ground hard, the coral cuffs scraping my wrists as I sagged against the chains.
Vivian took a step back, her chest heaving, her hands shaking violently. The whip dangled from her fingers, its glow fading slightly as if it, too, were tiring.
I could see it in her face—she was breaking.
I had to reach her.
“Vivian,” I said again. “Look at me.”
Her eyes darted to mine, wide and filled with tears.
“This isn’t you,” I said, forcing myself to sit upright despite the agony racking my body. “You’re stronger than him. I know you are.”
She shook her head, her lips trembling as she whispered, “I can’t... I can’t stop.”
“Yes, you can,” I said, my voice firmer now. “You’re still in there. I can feel it.”
“Vivian, that’s enough,” Izo said, his tone laced with amusement. “Stop having so much fun, my dear.”
The whip finally fell from Vivian’s hand, landing with a muted splash in the water. My body screamed in relief, though the stinging wounds across my skin told a different story. Every lash she’d delivered burned, physically and emotionally, the ache searing deep into my soul.
Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned away from me slowly, her gaze shifting to Izo like a moth drawn to flame. I tried to focus on her face, to catch a glimmer of recognition, but all I saw was the same hollow obedience.
He smirked as he stepped toward her and brushed his fingers over her cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “We’ve had our fun, but there’s much more to do. You’re going to follow me around today, little pet, and assist me while we test the limits of this delightful bond.”
The coral cuffs biting into my wrists as I struggled against them. “You’re a fucking coward,” I rasped. “Hiding behind magic and manipulation. Let her go, and fight me like a man.”
Izo turned his silver gaze to me, a cocky smile on his face. “Oh, but this is so much more entertaining, don’t you think? Watching you break while she thrives in her new role by my side?”
Vivian remained silent as he took her hand.
“Come along, my dear,” he said, tugging her gently toward the exit. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”
She glanced at me over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of defiance, of recognition. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Vivian,” I called.
She didn’t stop.
Izo led her out of the prison, his laughter echoing off the damp stone walls.
The guards dragged me back to my cell. My legs barely held my weight, and I stumbled as they shoved me through the barred entrance. I hit the ground hard, the water splashing up around me as pain shot through my battered body.
“Enjoy your rest, Shadow,” one of the guards sneered as they locked the cell behind them.
I lay there for a moment, gasping for air, my chest heaving with the effort it took to stay conscious. The water soaked through my clothes, chilling me to the bone, but it was nothing compared to the cold rage settling in my veins.
I turned my head, forcing my eyes open to look at the others. Vincenzo was still gripping the bars of his cell, his face a mask of fury. Camilla paced her cage restlessly. Dorian sat in the corner of his cell, muttering curses under his breath, while Luca leaned against the wall.
None of them spoke, but their eyes told me everything I needed to know.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
I dragged myself to the wall, leaning back against the cold stone as I struggled to catch my breath. The pain was overwhelming, sharp, and unrelenting, but I welcomed it. It kept me focused, kept me grounded.
I closed my eyes, letting my head rest against the wall as I pictured her face. The real Vivian. The one who had fought beside me, laughed with me, trusted me. The one I had failed to protect.
“I’m going to kill him,” I whispered, the words a vow etched into my very being. “I swear on everything in existence, I’m going to kill him.”
The others didn’t respond, but I felt their agreement like a tangible force in the air.
My body screamed for rest, every nerve alight with pain, but I forced myself to stay awake. I couldn’t give in. Not yet.
But as the minutes stretched into eternity, the exhaustion became too much. My vision blurred, and the world around me started to fade.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was the image of Izo leading Vivian away, her hand clasped in his, and a slight trace of determination in her eyes.
Pain throbbed through my body, a dull, insistent ache that pulled me reluctantly back to consciousness.
My eyes opened slowly, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming.
The bioluminescent algae on the walls cast an otherworldly glow across the chamber, distorting the edges of reality.
When my vision sharpened, the first thing I saw was Luca. He was pacing in his cell, his hand flicking out in sharp, controlled movements as he tried to summon his shadows. Each attempt was met with nothing but frustration, his jaw tightening with each failure.
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides.
I pushed myself up, the water soaking through my clothes and chilling me to the bone. My muscles protested every movement, but I forced myself to sit upright.
The guards were gone. Not a single one patrolled the corridor.
I frowned, the silence pressing heavily on my ears. They must’ve been supremely confident in their wards and the prison’s design to leave us unsupervised.
Luca stopped pacing when he noticed I was awake. “Took you long enough,” he muttered, though there was no bite in his words.
“What’s the situation?”
Dorian stood and crossed his arms. “The situation? Your wife just whipped the shit out of you while looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. Izo has her wrapped around his slimy fingers, and we’re stuck in these cursed cells while he plays house.”
The reminder of Vivian sent a sharp pang through me, but I shoved it down. “He’s controlling her. This isn’t her.”
“No shit,” Dorian said, his tone biting. “But what the fuck has he done to her?”
Vincenzo leaned against the bars of his cell, his broad shoulders tense. “You can’t trust sirens. They get into your head with their damn songs, and once they’ve got you, that’s it. You’re theirs. Mind, body, and soul.”
Camilla sighed. “Even I felt it. Every time he spoke, it was like... like I couldn’t look away.”
Everyone turned to her, their expressions ranging from disbelief to concern.
“What?” she snapped, folding her arms defensively. “He’s a fucking siren. What do you expect?”
Luca shook his head. “Maybe it’s worse for women. Or maybe males aren’t as susceptible.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Vincenzo cut in.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, my voice hardening with determination. “We get Vivian back. And we end that bastard once and for all.”
The room fell into a tense silence. The water lapped at my knees, cold and unrelenting, but I barely felt it.
My mind was on Vivian.
On the pain in her eyes.
On the vow I made to bring her back.
No matter what it took.