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“I’ll—kill—you?—”
My body was trembling. My abs wanted to give out and were straining from how hard I was working them, but I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t let up until he was dead.
Abyssian jerked, losing consciousness. Only when the burden of holding his massive body was too much to handle did I finally give out, releasing him.
He dropped to the floor like a lead weight.
“Clara,” I panted. “You need to get the knife. Cut me down.”
My cousin stayed still. Water formed in her eyes. A sinking sense of dread coiled in my gut. She couldn’t move.
“Clara?” I coughed.
She shook her head, trying to tell me something. It was hard to make out with the gag, but it almost sounded like, “He’s not dead.”
Abyssian gasped.
Fuck me.
It was the only thought I had time to process as he got to his feet. Bloodshot, angry eyes glared at me. He wrapped a hand around my throat and squeezed.
“Trouble shifting?” he croaked. He pressed against my windpipe, a cruel smile on his face. “I need you alive to do the spell, Reagan, but the book said nothing about needing you to be awake.”
He gripped me tighter and tighter until spots appeared in my vision and the only thing I could hear was the sound of my blood.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
* * *
Voices drifted in and out.
“.. . cut her hair.. .”
“.. . give me the athame.. .”
Some unintelligible mish mash of gibberish words I couldn’t understand.
“He said ‘soul becomes mine’...”Eres translated for me, but even she sounded far away.
That same phrase repeated over and over again. A knife grazed my back. Then fire erupted in my blood.
Pain became me. Or rather, I became pain.
Somewhere along the way I lost my sense of self in the suffering. Darkness shrouded my gaze. I fought to clear it, but that did little good.
In the midst of the torture, I recognized what was happening. I’d felt it before.
My soul was separating, being ripped apart at the seams, the stitches popping slowly one by one. Except it wasn’t my soul he was taking. It was my mate’s. The piece of him that I had guarded since birth. It was never mine to have anyway. It was definitely not his asshole brother’s.
That fire turned to anger as I thought about all Abyssian had done. What he put Caius through. What he was putting me through. All for his own selfish gain.
Power.
Not even power, when it really came down to it.
