Page 85 of Hellbound

The words took shape, rising from a Hell-forged memory. A voice that couldn’t have been hers rose even and strong.

“In your shadow, I am hallowed, and hallowed I will remain. By your will, I live, and in death, I am made free.”

Shadows erupted all around them in a swirling vortex with Vale at its center. Marian’s eyes snapped to his face as his frown melted into a frightening smirk. Movement from high above him drew Marian’s attention to a balcony, where Tori had emerged—punching and kicking an advancing Paul.

The traveler slugged him in the jaw, sending him stumbling backward. Tori flung herself at the railing, nearly climbing over it to yell down at Marian.

“Marian, don’t do it! He’s not a demon! It’s all a lie!”

But it was too late; permanence settled in her bones as Tori’s cries filled her with regret. Marian’s heart beat double time, its pace erratic as smoke coiled around her and Vale.

His fingers were suddenly in her hair, forcing her head back. He watched her through hooded eyes as she gasped at the shifting sensation. An arm like steel banded around her as a hand closed over her throat. Then Vale merged with the shadow, and Marian stared up at him in stunned disbelief as the whites of his eyes flooded black. He pulled her in so close that she was suddenly choking on the dueling scents of ozone and wildfire.

“No more running,” he growled against her lips. “Say my name. Finish this.”

Marian’s mouth fell open as she rasped, the foreign word barely a whisper among the rushing sound of unfurling smoke.

“Va’hael.”

A low rumble reverberated through him as he crushed his lips to hers without warning, swallowing her protest.

He claimed her mouth with such finality that Marian thought he’d killed her again. But she remained in this world even as he dragged her very soul out of her through her lips and filled her lungs with the same smoke he’d become.

All that made her alive vanished—heartbeat, pulse, breath—replaced by something new, and just when she thought she was about to be shoved off a cliff and into oblivion, blood pumped through her veins once more. Her heart beat fiercely again, its pace unerring. With each second that passed, he rewrote another part of her chemistry.

There was no tenderness here. Only need.

When he finally released her, Marian took her first unlabored breath. Shadows lapped at her skin and up her arm, burrowing into her crudely carved scar. She gasped at the invasion, clutching her wrist as they inked the mark in darkness. Scar tissue melted into perfectly woven black lines like a fresh tattoo.

She should have wept with relief. The mirror proved she’d been saved; the sludge melted away, and she felt alive for the first time in days.

Alive and yet heavy. Her deals with Stellan and Mr. Vale vanished from her person, replaced by something so much bigger.

Oh, fuck.

Marian scrambled backward as Vale changed. The skin at the corner of his eyes cracked; darkness seeped through them. Smoke and shadows fanned behind him in a cloak of perfect black. She yelped as pressure looped around her throat with an icy bite. Shadows manifested over Vale’s head like a broken crown.

Her hands flew to her neck to claw at whatever had taken hold. Cold metal met her fingers; thin and fine and solid. Not the noose of a demon bargain.

A collar.

Marian tore at her new adornment as shadows etched into Vale’s skin, his body now a canvas of night. He ran a hand through his jet hair as the vortex collapsed and calmed. The longer she stared at what remained of his human guise, the less certain she became of her own sanity.

He loomed before her, standing taller and more regal than he had any business being.

The king of monsters.

The silence between them cracked when his pale lips parted with a long, satisfied sigh.

“Now,” he said as his inhuman gaze drenched Marian in cold dread. Blue irises ignited against fathomless black. “You are mine.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Shit. Shit.

Marian felt healthy for the first time in days. Alive. Whole. And yet … wrong.

She groped her collar, yanking hard. Its surface promptly turned to smoke and hissed through her fingers. Then it was back, its delicate metal loops snug around her throat once more. She lifted her accusing gaze to Mr. Vale, who stood there like a void with a face.