“It wasn’t me,” I snap, cutting her off. “And I would know if it was me. I’m not the one who lacks control. I’m not the one who conjured this bloody bond, and now we’re stuck with it. With each other and our magic. The blood weave isn’t something you just undo. It’s ancient, unpredictable magic, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping either of us breathing.”
“You’re lying,” she spits, but her voice falters. She’s not entirely sure.
“Believe what you want,” I say coldly, releasing her wrist. “But you’ve done this to us. Your desperation to escape put us both here. Find a mirror if you want to find the person to blame.”
Zara’s lips part in shock, but she snaps them shut quickly, her jaw tight. Her silence is gratifying and her fury almost palpable, a maelstrom she’s struggling to contain within her small, defiant frame. The witch is far too volatile, and that makes her easy to push and pull.
And I always know where to strike.
I lean back and gloat, as the semblance of a plan begins to form. It’s wicked and cruel, but Zara has reminded me of my former tutor, and I know exactly where to start. Malric. The old warlock is brilliant, ruthless, and as steeped in forbidden magic as he is in debt to me. If anyone can unravel this blood weave, it’s him.
But if he can’t, then it’ll work out for me too.
It’ll let me mold her into something I can use, into something I can control. I can use the time and pressures of the journey to manipulate her, and by the time we find Malric, even Zara should be trained to obey me. To fulfill me. To satisfy my needs and submit to my whims.
“There might be a way,” I add, my tone almost dismissive.
Zara’s silence stretches, her suspicion sharpening as she studies my expression. I meet her glare with a smirk, letting just enough of my intention slip to unnerve her.
“I can’t promise anything,” I continue, sounding like I’m trying to win her trust. “It’s dangerous too, Zara. We should wait until we’ve got a handle on how our magic works now. It’s changed and we’ll be safer if we defend ourselves before we set off on this course.”
Her eyes narrow, the emerald flames within them flickering. “What course?”
Zara shifts her weight. Her lips press into a thin line, her distrust radiating off her in waves. But behind it, I see the faintest glimmer of unease. I feel it too, and while I’m loathe to admit it, this blood weave born of her recklessness does come with some perks. Her emotions can be exploited, along with her magic, and all I have to do is learn how to control her. Or get her to obey me.
“If anyone knows how to undo this, it’ll be my old tutor,” I tell her with a grin. “Malric is dangerous and difficult to find.You’ll need to obey me. Without question,” I continue as if her trust, or lack of it, doesn’t matter. “Malric knows more about ancient magic than anyone alive. He’ll either untangle this mess or help us figure out how to make this bearable.”
“I don’t trust you,” Zara says, her voice low but steady.
“Smart,” I reply with a grin. “But trust isn’t necessary right now. Obedience will suffice.”
Her fists tighten, but she says nothing more, and I turn away, already envisioning the pieces of this puzzle falling into place. Zara is a challenge conceived in chaos, but I’ll enjoy playing with her, savoring every moment until she’s under my control. Her fight makes this more delicious and breaking her slowly will be the most exquisite game I’ve ever played.
