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“It’s important for healing or you’ll get slow and lose muscle mass.” I shrug.
“Well, okay. I can think of other ways to help.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Kitt kicks him.
“We had a deal, remember?” he warns, but his eyes are on me, filled with hope.
We shouldn’t cross this line again. By tomorrow, we will be at my home, the bond will be broken, and we’ll be enemies again, but as I look to them, I find myself giving into my desires and ignoring the logic that has kept me alive. “Just one hand? What about five?”
We shouldn’t, we all know that, yet I’m the one who throws myself into their arms, losing myself in the pleasure and happiness the mate bond provides.
One last time.
“There is no point in waiting around. Come on, let’s get me home,” I declare early the next morning. I lingered in their arms all night before hiding in the bathroom to rebuild my strength. Today, we’ll face my mother and my past, and we will also break the bond. Every time I look at them or feel them, that notion gets harder and harder. I know my tone is cruel, but I leave them no choice as I walk to the truck and wait while they load up. It’s still mainly dark, but we set off once more on the last leg of our journey. The ride is silent, like a tomb, all of us aware of the impending conclusion. I watch the miles tick down as the temperature gets colder and colder, the scenery around us slowly transforming into a snowy landscape.
“You see those two trees ahead?” I murmur, swallowing hard as memories assault me. I feel the need to fill the silence and distract them from my spiralling thoughts. “That is the border of Draven territory, of Vigil. If we pass through, she will be alerted by her wards.”
Kitt slows, glancing at the others then me before slowly driving through. The magic washes over me, feeling my intentions and welcoming me home like a lost lover, sending a trickle of ice through my veins. The guys, however, wince. I remember the first few times I passed through it. It caused me pain too, but now I’m used to it.
As soon as we are out the other side, the landscape turns white. Snow stretches as far as the eye can see, and icicles hang down from trees. We keep driving, the slippery, windy road leading to one place—Draven Castle. It’s the heart of Vigil. Humans would have been turned away at the border, their minds told by magic that they were lost. It is not even on their maps, but we all know it’s here. We pass over the causeway between this land and our island, arriving on the outskirts of Vigil as the sun begins to rise, the light almost blinding as it reflects off the snow.
“Pull over,” I murmur.
Kitt does it without question, and I slip from the truck, shivering as the cold hits me. My mother would say I am weak. Ignoring her familiar voice and the chill in my bones, I trudge through the knee-deep snow to the lake. Standing in the distance, above the lake on the peak of Vigil Mountain, is Castle Draven. It’s covered in ice, making the black brick an icy blue. Even the peaks of the towers are shrouded in mist and ice. The imposing structure has one big tower in the middle and five little ones on either side, spreading across the mountaintop. It’s big enough to house the entire coven.
I feel them behind me as I stare at my home. “Soulless Lake,” I explain. “I would spend most of my days here. It never unfreezes; none of this land does. My mother likes it that way. When I was a child, I never understood why the others feared it and hid, avoiding this place with such fervour.”
“Why do they?” Bram asks.
Stepping confidently onto the lake, I lean down and wipe away the snow, revealing the glass-like surface so they can see below, to the frozen face, forever displaying terror, staring up at the ice and their freedom.
“Mother uses magic to open the ice then sinks people to the bottom—anyone who defies her or needs to be punished. Sometimes, she brings them back, and other times, they are here forever, frozen in time. It serves as a reminder to her people. It’s soulless, like her, hence the name. I spent years as a child exploring the bodies down here. I never did reach the end,” I admit as I look out. “She said this was too good for my punishment. I suppose that’s a blessing.”
“Your mom has issues,” Raiden whispers. “Really big issues.”
“You need to be strong to lead, and being strong is to be devoid of weakness. Emotions are weakness. Pity, love, and forgiveness do not exist to her.” I repeat the words I have heard a hundred times. “She grows stronger every day, and she’s one of the strongest mages in the world, but also the most feared.” Looking back, I smile. “I hope you are ready for that.”
Walking away from my past, I slip back into the truck and wait for them. Delaying won’t make a difference—she knows we are here.
She will be waiting.
They all will.
Including him.
I cannot afford to be weak. I have been waiting for this for years, so I build a wall between them and me, hiding the bond as deeply as possible. It’s hard, but I’ve done hard things before, like turning on the man I loved, losing my child, and sacrificing my life.
They are silent, no doubt reading my turbulent emotions as we drive up the mountain pass and through the castle gates. The car stops in the circular driveway where an ice statue stands tall and proud in the middle. The ice-covered castle is a relic from another world and life, but my eyes drop to the statue in the centre of the frozen fountain. It’s a figure of my mother, her hand up as if performing a spell, and there are humans crushed under her feet.
“Tasteful,” Kitt mutters.
Nodding, I climb out of the truck and take a deep breath. Ice-cold air freezes my lungs, but it wakes me up. Ignoring the guys as best as I can, I saunter up the steps with as much confidence as I can muster and push the giant doors open. They creak, and like I expected, two lines of coven members await me in the reception area. All their eyes are wide, yet when their mouths open, it’s my mother’s voice that leaves their lips.
“Welcome home, Oriana Draven, lost one.” The deep voice resonates through my bones.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Not wanting to be left behind outside the creepy ice castle Ferol called home, we follow her up the steps, only to find a crowd gathered inside the entrance. We reach for our weapons, but Ferol is unfazed. She tilts her chin up and walks down the path, striding deeper into the spine-chilling castle, passing under four ice staircases that seem to ascend forever. The inside is decorated in blues and whites, and it’s covered in a thin layer of ice. How did our fiery mate live here?
