Chapter 32 Lumi
Lumi
Isee Isolde’s strain trying to work her magic. I see how the curse is affecting her. She’s not as strong as she was when we last met a couple of weeks ago. And she won’t be as strong in the next two weeks when the full moon comes. I’ll make sure of that by making her use all of her magic on me now.
She can’t kill me.
She won’t kill either of them.
She’s not convinced that Ambrose is my mate, not fully. Which means she won’t take any chances by killing either one just yet.
I just have to wear her down. Tire her out even further so she has nothing left come the marking ceremony.
“Trust me, Ambrose. Just trust me.” I send, immediately feeling his anxiety creeping into my mind.
He’s worried; he doesn’t want me to push Isolde.
Doesn’t want me to suffer. But I’m willing to endure whatever pain I have to ensure that she has nothing left when it really matters.
Then we can defeat her. So I will provoke her.
I taunt her with my eyes all the while keeping my own anxiety buried so deep inside that I know even Ambrose can’t feel it. All he feels is my calm, steady allure. I will not show fear, not to her.
The creepy smile on Isolde’s face tells me she thinks she can win. That she will win. Maybe she will, but not without a fight.
I sense Nyx next to me, holding onto his humanness with everything he can. He’s struggling even if his demeanor appears void and distant; I can tell he won’t be able to hold on much longer.
“You think I only have my own power to draw on, you foolish girl. You think you can get me to use my own power to drain me so I’ll have nothing left. You’re a fool.”
I don’t flinch at Isolde’s words even though she figured out my plan. I can sense the tinge of fear in Isolde’s own words. She believes them but isn’t sure it will be enough.
She looks to her left, then right, holding out her hands. The witch’s closest to her move in, taking her hands expectantly. Her eyes never leave mine, but for a second, I feel her grip on me loosen ever so slightly as she focuses on the witches next to her.
She squeezes their hands tight enough that they grimace, marking both of the witch’s faces.
I feel the shift in power. I watch Isolde and the two witches next to her.
They grow paler and paler with each second that passes, while her aura grows stronger.
The power shifts from them to her, and then suddenly, she lets go of them, and they both drop to the floor.
I gasp, shocked to see how easily she drained her own coven members’ power.
“Thank you, sisters,” she says. She nods toward other witches standing behind her, and they swoop in, lifting the two drained witches up.
I can hear their faint heartbeats. They’re still alive, for now. But I can’t imagine what it feels like to have your power drained like that for your coven leader. It must feel like being stripped of everything that makes you you. They must resent her for it.
“They give me their power willingly because they know this is the only way to break the curse. They will regain their power at the next full moon. The Moonfire coven draws out power from the moon. They will rest until then. I have endless witches willing to give their power to me. My own coven. And witches from every other coven. Because we all want the same thing. To break the curse. It’s the only way we survive. ”
I don’t flinch, even though I know I’ve been playing with fire, and I’m about to get burned.
I brace for impact, but it’s worth it to discover what Isolde must do to gain the power she has.
I suspect I still don’t know enough about their curse.
Even though Ambrose is half witch, he might not suffer the full extent of the witches’ curse.
And I don’t know Isolde’s individual curse. The one only given to her.
Without warning, power blasts into me, until I can barely breathe. Screaming rings out—mine? Ambrose’s? Nyx’s? I’m not sure, but the screaming is all-encompassing. It floods my brain, overwhelming all of my other senses. Louder, louder, louder until it becomes deafening.
My brain tells me I should be doing something, but I can’t think for the sound. It’s so loud. Why is it so loud?
And then the silence stops. The world stops. I’m frozen in space and time as I look at Isolde as if nothing else exists around me.
“I own you, Lumi. I alone control you. All of your decisions are mine.”
“Fight, fight like hell,” a male’s voice screams in my head. But I can’t tell whose voice it is.
I open my mouth to speak. To fight back, but nothing comes out. I try again to force a sound out, any sound, but it’s like my voice is gone, ripped from my throat.
“Do you finally believe me? I control you. I can force you to complete the marking ceremony with anyone I want. I can force you to drive a knife into both males’ hearts. You belong to me now. There is no fighting this, Lumi.”
Fear creeps up my chest, but I don’t let it show on my face.
I refuse to let her see my fear. Because I know she’s not done.
She needs to display her absolute dominance over me.
She wants me to fear her. Think she can kill me.
Or the men next to me. But she’s already shown me her cards.
It’s all a bluff. She won’t kill them or me.
Whatever she’s going to inflict upon me, whatever control she’s going to display doesn’t matter.
I’ll survive it. Which means I’ll find a way to break her control and kill her for the pain she’s about to cause the men next to me and me.
“Let’s see,” she taps her chin thoughtfully. “What should I have you do first? How should I test your true mate for myself?”
I keep my breathing steady, but my heart is thundering in my chest despite it.
I won’t show fear. I won’t give that to her, which is what she wants.
I suspect her ‘tests’ have nothing to do with figuring out my true mate and all about enjoying my fear and being able to control me. So I won’t give her what she wants.
But deep down, I hate losing control. It’s my biggest fear. And it’s like Isolde picked up on that and knew the best way to hurt me. I don’t know if I can keep my fear from showing.
“Kiss Ambrose,” Isolde says.
I frown, not sure I heard her right.
“You heard me, kiss him. It’s simple enough. You claim to be mates after all. Just kiss him.”
It would be so easy to do. Just kiss him. But I know that’s not where this will stop. She has more planned. More than just a kiss. But once again, she showed me her hand—and I know what her plan is now.
I glance at Ambrose. “This isn’t about you, but I can’t give her what she wants. No matter what.”
“I know.” He smiles softly. “We’re in this together. Fight like hell.”
I feel his warmth spreading through me, wrapping around me like a warm comfort. It’s not his magic. His magic has been dampened in this cell, but he’s pushing his feelings to me through our bond.
“No,” I say firmly back to Isolde.
She smiles, like she’s already won. But I keep Ambrose’s warmth and let it pulse through my body, instantly calming me.
Suddenly, my arms pulled high over my head, and my legs spread until my body forms an ‘x.’ I look at my wrists, expecting the manacles and chains to reappear, but it’s just her magic holding me in place.
I look back at her just in time to see that twinkle of delight in her eyes that tells me to brace for the pain. I hear the sound of a whip before it registers on my back. The pain explodes out of me, hitting me so hard that I instantly feel my skin pulling apart from the lash.
I don’t have time to prepare before the next lash as the whip hits my back, my body flings forward against the invisible bindings holding my body taunt.
I cry out, I can’t control the sound leaving my body. And with it, I hear the sound of the two males roaring next to me.
Stop, I try to tell them. Don’t give her what she wants.
But before the words leave my lips, another lash has me screaming in pain. And the sounds echoing around me from both men continue louder and louder.
Five times I’m whipped.
Five scars that I know won’t ever leave my body without a healer’s help.
Five incentives for killing Isolde.
I’m panting in pain when the whipping finally stops, pain sharpening with every shift of my body. I look at Ambrose, whose face is twisted, like it hurts him to see me like this.
I look to Nyx…He’s rabid—feral, furious, consumed.
“He smells your blood, and he wants to eat you,” Isolde says pleasantly.
He does, and yet, I don’t think that’s the reason for the fury on his face, the huffing of his nostrils, the glare on his face. It’s not directed at me.
“Kiss Ambrose,” Isolde says, releasing the bonds holding me up as she speaks.
I fall to the hard ground, my knees hitting the dirt floor with a loud thump, and my wrists catching me from smacking my face straight onto the ground.
I take a deep breath—one, two, three, trying to get my panting and heartbeat under control before I answer her.
Slowly, I lift my head, defiance in my eyes. “No. You’ll have to whip me until all of my flesh has been torn from my bones before I ever give you the satisfaction of doing anything you want. Your magic will vanish long before I do what you want.”
“Oh, my dear. The whipping was just for my enjoyment.” She lifts her hand, and like she’s a marionette controller, she lifts my arm and legs off the ground like I’m her puppet. I have no control over my limbs as she walks me to Ambrose.
Ambrose doesn’t move. His eyes lock with mine, though, and I see the pain etched into his face.
My body stops inches from his. So close that if I lean forward at all, I fall on top of him.
“How can I help? What do you want me to do?” he asks in my mind.
“Nothing—there is nothing to do,” I say back.
“Do you want me to kiss you back? Make it enjoyable? Be defiant?”