I would do anything for you, Issy,I murmur back to her.Even this.
I jolt as a fiery sensation slithers through my veins, the energy hot and unwelcome and heading straight for my chest.To my soul.
Nikolas reaches for my nape, yanking me into him as the spell takes hold, melding our fates together.
His lips take mine, sealing the deal and lighting sparks within me. Not the kind I desire or even enjoy, but flames of furious rebellion.
My spirit is screaming at the wrongness of this mating, my very being trying to fight the dark enchantment.
But I can feel it sinking its anchor into my heart, forcing me to accept and to bow to this change in my destiny. Just as Nikolas’s tongue demands submission, taking control and possessing me in a way only a mate can.
It hurts.
It twists my stomach.
It makes me feel physically ill.
Yet there’s a lightness at the end, one emboldened by fake promises and a false sense of hope. It’s a trick. I can still smell the foulness of it all, but the magic is taking hold now, the power convincing my soul of the rightness.
I can barely hear Issy’s cries, her pain a faint thought that whirls with my confusion.
It’s then that I hear the chanting, Daithi’s voice low and cold.
What is this?I marvel.What’s he doing?
Issy shouts my name in reply, but I can’t seem to reach her. I… I can’t connect to her.
What’s he saying?It’s ancient Gaelic, words I barely hear.Why do I feel so cold?
My lips are numb. My tongue frozen.
Nikolas has stopped kissing me. But his hand…
He’s still holding my nape.
Securing me.
While he…
While hedrinks. I try to jerk backward, alarm racing through my limbs as I suddenly feel his fangs in my throat.Part vampire, part warlock.I knew this. But I didn’t expect him to bite me.
What the fuck?
And why is Daithi still chanting?
I glance at my father in alarm, noting his reserved expression. “It’s for your own good, Fallon,” he tells me. “It’ll be easier this way.”
Easier?I want to ask.
My mother wears a similar look, though her silver eyes glitter with resignation. She reminds me so much of Issy in that moment, her broken features a mask for the fury beneath.
Because Issy often hides behind a glamour of sorrow. But deep down, she’s angry at her fate. Furious that she can’t voice her own defense. Livid that she’s perpetually trapped in our parents’ home, unable to see the outside world without risking immediate death.
She’s on permanent house arrest. It was that or allow the O’Neelys to kill her. My parents chose to imprison her as a result—a consequence that wouldn’t change, not even after today.
One day, I’ll free you,I’ve promised her a thousand times.
Whether it be by playing the part of the perfect mate and earning trust or by breaking all the rules and risking our lives, I’m not sure. But I’m determined to help Issy escape.
