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“All right, my witch.” He took a lock of her golden hair and slid it between his fingers, admiring the soft texture. “Tell me what spells you have for us on this fine evening.”
“I am going to kill my husband.”
He dropped her lock of hair. “That is a dark thing to joke of,” he said, displeased.
“I do not jest, Damien. I am a witch. Years ago, I used my gifts to lure him to me, to make me a grand duchess, and now I shall use my gifts to end his life and be with you. You shall inherit his title, land, and wealth—as I cannot by law—and you will become the father of my children—something he has been unable to give me.”
Damien instantly sensed that Willa was not jesting at all. “Willamina, stop this at once. You cannot make light of murder.”
“I am not making light. Do you not believe I am what I say?”
He sat up. “No.”
“Damien Greystone,” she objected, her tone harsh. “You are a descendant of the knights who survived the Battle of a Thousand Beheadings, of the men who sold their souls to the devil in exchange for sparing their people’s village against an onslaught of Vikings.”
That was folklore. Legend. Passed down from generation to generation. The truth was, no one in his family knew how they had evolved this way. Every male was born a twin.
One good. One bad.
One body to share.
It was always the task of the good twin to stay in command, only allowing the evil brother to assume control when it was required. Fight, survive, defend. The beast that resided within was a weapon.
What no one, not even his father, had cared to tell him was that the more fighting, surviving, and defending they did, the more difficult it became to contain the beast. His bloodlust only grew.
“How do you know about me?” he asked Willa. He had never shared this information with her.
“Because I am a witch. I can see your brother looking at me, just behind your eyes.”
He stood and began dressing. “Whatever the case, you cannot kill your husband.”
She stood, not bothering to put on her dress. “Do you not love me?”
He did. But her underhanded scheme went against everything he believed in. She had made a vow to that man. It was one thing to be an adulteress, but to kill him? For what crime? For taking her as his wife? For making her a duchess?
Additionally, there was the matter of his unwelcome passenger. She would never truly be safe around him. Children even less. If he married, it would be out of loyalty to his father. It would be to a woman who knew how to stay out of his way, out of his bed, and to not ask questions.
“Willa, I cannot marry you because you are already married, and I cannot be a part of your scheme to make you a widow. I live by a code. There are rules—”
“So I’m not good enough for you?”
“If you are what you claim to be, then you understand how taking the life of another comes with a price.” His father had killed many men and suffered from sleepless nights. The faces of the dead never left him.
“I am offering you a new life,” she argued. “The life of a wealthy man with land, servants, and a title. I have discovered that my husband killed his brother over a quarrel about their inheritances. It was many years ago, and he has simply been telling everyone that his brother lives in France. Do you not see? I will be serving justice by ending his life, and once I do, you can take the place of his brother. No one will discover you. He is completely unknown in society, and all but one aunt, who is blind, remains alive.”
Willa had it all figured out.
“It is still wrong. I cannot.” He slid on his pants. “I must return home. Dress so I may escort you back.” She was staying with her family in their home up the hill. It was one of the nicer estates in the area, but rumors had been spreading about her father gambling away their money.
She grabbed his arm, digging in her nails. “He beats me, Damien. He drinks and blames me for our lack of children. He forces me to do the cruelest of things in the bedchamber.”
How convenient.Now she wanted to cast her husband as the villain to justify her plan. “Why have you never mentioned this before?”
“What could you do? He is miles away. You are here.”
Willa was lying. She had to be. “You claim to be a powerful witch, so then why have you not used your gifts to stop him?”
“I have my reasons.”
