36. Levi
LEVI
I’m being kidnapped... A calm shock washes over me. Well, I’ll always give credit where it’s due, and this woman seems to be an endless source of surprise. Laughter rises to my chest.
Violette gives me an unimpressed scowl as she folds her arms across her buxom chest and cocks a hip that gifts me a glorious view of one long, pale leg, and the fleshy curve of her generous hip.
I have a sudden and overwhelming urge to lick and bite it, which is again, mildly concerning, considering my circumstances.
“So what’s your plan? Ritual sacrifice?”
She purses her lips, eyes momentarily sliding to a corner of the room as if she’s genuinely considering it. “Are you offering?”
My muscles flex restlessly against the bite of the rope, which only proves to make it tighten further. Like a boa constrictor.
“Gideon and Beau will be concerned if I just disappear. I have responsibilities here.”
Namely, murdering my father’s usurper.
Violette gives me an expressionless look. “I will speak with Winnow on your behalf. As for your responsibilities, you may return to this realm whenever you wish. I have no need of holding you prisoner... Once you fully submit to me, accept my bite, and I, yours.”
Pondering her words—bite, submit—feels like an out-of-body experience. I should be shocked. Fearful, even. Surely both of these things would be life-altering. Instead, I feel a certain calm.
“I take it both events would hold some significance? Or is this just an elaborate way of hunting your prey?”
Her lips curl with malevolent glee, eyes going heavy-lidded.
“You will submit to me in all ways. Not merely by force, but by desire, I assure you. As for my bite, it is the way of both god and syrith to drink one another’s blood—their tangible life essence—and mark their soulbound so that all may know you have been claimed.”
My mind glosses right over the mention of blood-drinking and settles like a boulder on the ocean floor at the word soulbound.
I’ve heard Winnow and Gideon use the term numerous times.
She explained that it’s, in short, a soul’s other half.
And that it has something to do with how Gideon ended up with horns, a tail, wings, and a drastically extended lifespan.
All of which would make my boyhood dreams a reality, outside of the fact that I, quite literally, won’t be able to live without her.
My dread outweighs my intrigue.
Being near this woman makes me want to claim her as badly as I want to run for the fucking hills—unless this woman is impervious to death.
A part of me I didn’t know existed dares to hope.
It doesn’t seem too far-fetched, considering she can summon portals and has all the accoutrements of an immortal being.
Before I can ask Violette about her longevity, she gives a subtle wave of her hand. In the same moment, my body becomes airborne and floats towards and into the portal. What lies beyond it appears to be some kind of fantastical, makeshift laboratory in her kitchen.
Fear and excitement finally begin to tingle in my veins. Intuitively, I know I’m not in danger, and Gideon has only ever raved about the realm Winnow comes from. I’m even supposed to attend their wedding in Caerwynath.
So admittedly, I’m more than fucking curious. Gideon’s description sounds like all my childhood dreams come to life.
The only gnawing reality is that I have unfinished business and that forming a relationship of any kind with this woman will mean potentially opening myself up to my own eventual doom.
I’ve barely met her, but I have no doubt that if I hurl myself down this path with Violette, as this bond between us urges me to, I’ll end up just like my mother if something happened to her.
I don’t have much hope considering Winnow’s father, according to Gideon, was a god and got himself killed in some war.
Violette’s brows are deeply furrowed as her gaze remains fixed on me, tension tightening her expression as if she’s just as worried about this little plan of hers as I am. Or perhaps she is merely confused by my lack of protest.
I spent six months as a POW at the hands of truly evil men.
This woman?
My so-called soulbound?
Who resurrects long-dead boyish dreams of having a soulmate type of love, as my parents did?
The only thing about her that scares me is her capacity to die.
“Are you immortal?”
Her eyes narrow with suspicion at my line of questioning.
“Plotting my death already, soulbound?”
“I don’t need to kill you to escape, Miss Lark.”
Her expression tells me she’s unconvinced and unimpressed.
“Define immortal.”
“Can you die?”
She looks at me like I’ve grown an asshole in the center of my forehead.
“Of course I can die. Though not easily. My lifespan is equivalent to many millennia, should no grave incident befall me.”
Unease winds in my gut. “Define ‘grave incident’.”
She arches a brow at me. “Do you honestly think I’d confide all the many ways in which you could kill me?”
My heart sinks. So she can be killed. In a myriad of ways, apparently.
“And how common exactly is it that individuals such as yourself manage to be killed?”
She rolls her eyes, shrugging a shoulder as she seals the portal behind me and lets my body hit the floor with a solid thump that nearly knocks the wind out of me.
“Happens all the time.”
That tiny seed of hope in my chest is incinerated by those four simple words.
Violette, suddenly looking very studious despite her lingerie, begins mixing various herbs, liquids, and potions. Light glows, sparks fly, and vapors coalesce in the air as she murmurs unfamiliar words.
I can’t help but watch with held breath. She’s mesmerizing, and not only because of her beauty, but her gift, and this mastery of skill that I know nothing of, and have only ever witnessed in fantasy.
After a few moments, she turns to me, holding a vial filled with a liquid that seems to move all on its own.
Like a miniature storm in a bottle. Without lifting a finger, my body rises at an angle until I’m positioned on my knees.
My dick thickens as I stare up at her, bound and kneeling before her.
“Lorea da somna satura.”
She’s a fucking witch.
I attempt to keep my features neutral, even if she did just ignite my boyish glee. “Translation?”
“It’s a concoction of my own making. One that will help you sleep deeper than you thought possible, heal whatever ailments you have currently burdening your fragile human form, ease your fears—if only for the night—balance and realign your energy centers, cleanse your aura, and sever any unhealthy energetic cords currently binding you to another. ”
Holy fuck.
“Are there any side effects?”
“That all depends on you, and how much healing your body, mind, and spirit need, how many cords need cutting, how out of balance your energy centers are, and what will come to haunt your subconscious when you sink into the deep sleep you’ll enter.”
Whatever excitement and awe I’d felt a moment ago is replaced by the grim realization that tonight, everything I’ve spent my life burying is going to be set free.
When I vocalize no protest, she gives me a strange look, shaking her head.
“How is it that you’re okay with all this? That you’re not trying to escape? Why are you so calm?”
I huff a laugh. “Oh no, whatever shall I do? The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on—a woman that never in a million years would I have dared to imagine—calls me her soulmate?—”
“—soulbound,” she corrects.
“—a woman with a determination, courage, skill, and ingenuity I can’t even begin to grasp,” I add, nodding to her laboratory, “who can summon portals, wield magic, and heal me… wants to kidnap me? Wants to take me to her fantastical world? Wants anything to do with me?”
A glistening in her eyes takes me by surprise and softens my words.
“Poor me. How will I ever survive?”
Violette’s chest swells on a deep inhale as the harshness in her expression eases.
Several moments of silence pass between us.
It’s mildly awkward because I’m still naked.
The more she stares at me, the more I feel her peeling back all my many layers.
Examining all the parts of myself that had become calloused, and the ones I’ve buried so deeply that even I’d forgotten them.
Like this newfound wonder I haven’t felt since the first time I’d seen my favorite fantasy or sci-fi films.
I’ve been numb for so fucking long; I hadn’t even realized what I’ve become.
For more than two decades, I’ve been a shell. A husk. An automaton in a world of gray, meting out violence and death while praying for vengeance.
And Violette is the technicolor dream I’d never dared to hope for.
Her words seem to reverberate from my soul.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
My mother’s words echo in my mind.
“Sal... One day, I pray to fucking God you find a love like me and your father’s because anything less just isn’t worth it. When you do, you’ll understand why finding happiness without him isn’t possible.”
The knot of emotion in my chest feels like cement. “I’m terrified.”
Her brows pinch as her eyes continue to roam over me as if searching for everything I’m not saying.
She brings the vial to my mouth, and I obediently part my lips. Hesitating, she shakes her head in disbelief.
“This could be poison, Levi. Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?”
My heart pinches at the addictive sound of my name on her lips. Even if it’s not my real first name. “You’ve already had about a hundred opportunities to gut me like a fish if that’s what you wanted.”
She frowns with dissatisfaction. The sight causes something inside me to wilt.
Finally, she tips the vial into my mouth.
A subtle, sweet, earthy flavor blossoms on my tongue and travels down my throat without me even having to swallow.
It’s an altogether startling sensation. Like the liquid has a mind of its own.
The path it takes leaves a soft tingling warmth in its wake before disappearing.
Violette’s head tilts as she studies my reaction.
When I voice no complaint, her slender palm cups my cheek, eyes momentarily searching mine.
“Good boy.”
The rope around me unwinds, then vanishes. Turning on her heel, she strides towards a hallway where glowing lanterns line the walls.
“Follow me. You’ve got less than three minutes before you fall unconscious, so let’s get you situated.”