“Heather, my sweet Heather—focus,focus! Bring your attention back to me,” he says, attempting to grab hold of my hands. Magnus draws in a deep breath, slow and deliberate, coaching me to do the same. “Like we did before, count with me or just listen to my voice. One, two—”
Soft needles pierce my skin as feathers sprout one by one, encasing my neck in a wreath, while my eyes swell and harden. The power of transformation is matched measure by measure by the pain coursing through my body. The counting, the soft tone of his voice—instead of calming me, each word drives tension further down my back until I’m all but being ripped apart.
“I am not yoursweet!” I roar and it feels like fire ripping through my lungs. Footsteps rush into the hall.
Guards? Their movements blur in a display of vampiric powers. I am dimly aware of the tension of my limbs being pulled together by what feels like coarse rope.
“Release her this instant!” Magnus growls, except they don’t. The rope winds tighter and tighter until my red vision glosses over like a movie screen, playing footage from the night Chris kidnapped me. I can smell the wood of the barn even in this place of cold stone.
Tied up.
Helpless.
Live bait.
Or in this case, a prize.
No—no! I’m not letting that happen again.
“Do not touch her! Do you hear me?” Magnus’s voice rages through the chaos. “By order of your king.”
I snarl, shaking off the feeling of Magnus’s arms wrapping around me. The only person I want to have and hold is Moth, but that doesn’t seem like it stops these men from trying to take ownership of my life.
You’ll be happier.
I shrug him off.
I’m doing this for you.
I open my mouth to scream.
Fuck all of that.
I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, the red cast over my vision is no longer speckled but fully pigmented, like lipstick smeared across a mirror. Everything on the other side is hazy, but I can still see Magnus. He’s trying so hard to save me, like a child who’s watching their new favorite toy fall into the mud.
Snap.
The ropes fall to the ground.
Crash.
The bodies fall next.
Magnus is among them. He reaches up to touch his face, blood trailing from a split lip. His pretty purple eyes widen, and that lean body shakes as he crawls backward.
“You’re—you—” he stammers, backing into a corner. Magnus, the great vampire king, shrinks into someone small and trembling right before my eyes.
“I’ve been saying this whole time: wait until Moth comes for me. He’ll destroy this place. He’ll kill you.” The shrill sound of my voice bounces off the stone walls, and Magnus cringes, covering his ears. “If you’re going to keep me here—I’ll do it myself!”
“Heather!”
Another rope—this time from behind me—snakes around my body in an attempt to bind my arms to my torso. With a flex of my muscles, it’s fallen to the floor along with another set of guards.
“Stop! She just needs to calm down!” Magnus barks.
With a snarl, I dive past Magnus and straight toward the portal he keeps in the corner of his bedroom.
“This isn’t you,” Magnus pleads, racing in front of me. He holds his arms out wide, blocking me from the portal. “Please, turn back. Forgive me, life was so terribly boring before you came into it. Turn back. Let us talk through this one more time.”
