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“You have it, don’t you?” he asks Gabriella, his tone less acerbic. Almost saccharine. He’s not looking at me, but I feel the pressure of his power. It’s like a boulder sitting on my head—crushing me—while my mate and family are oblivious. As if blocked to my emotions. “It’s why you’re so confident?”
“Have what?” I sense Gabby’s confusion. The others, too.
“Ask your sister. She knows.” At that moment, he slams into my mind and I blank. I can’t move and time slows. “Just know that I’m not the only one interested. Many will come for you both.”
My patience is waning, young one. You will come to me of your own volition and comply—behave like the good girl you were raised to be—or be forced to watch them all die. He’s in my head. Voice cocky and amused. One by one, I will kill them while you watch. Your sister. Her husband. Your mate. Each one will die because of your selfishness before my son takes you as his bride. By choice or by force, you will become our whore. The clock is ticking, Isabella. Choose wisely.
“Isa?” Her voice snaps me out of the mental hold and I shake him off.
The act surprises King Larue. Me too, but it also gives me a smidgen of hope.
“Not now, Sister. We must go home.” And it’s the urgency in my voice, the tremor, that has her nodding as we rush out with our mates following. No one says anything, but Xadiel and Gabriella sense something is wrong.
They didn’t question my silence that day, but they will in the future.
My allegiance and hand in marriage to his son. Or Xadiel’s death and my imprisonment.
In either equation, he never meant to let Gabriella live. She’s a vessel he must destroy to gain access to Thanatos’s stone; her power is too uncontrollable to dominate. I can’t kill with the closing of a fist like she can and the pain I inflict can be stopped, but I’d give my soul to protect the ones I love.
To win, I need them all alive. To protect my future child, I must suffer now.
However, his kingdom will pay the price for his choices, and that is a vow I made long ago.
Until a new leader arises, blue blood will paint the streets of France.
“Talk to me, Little Moon? You’ve been quiet since we left home,” Xadiel asks, riding behind me as we trot on Pearl back into Moore land. There’s a book I need from my bedroom, a memoir written by my Father that’s been calling to me for days on end. This one didn’t go into any of the vaults, it felt wrong to do so the day I cleaned his office, and now it wants my attention.
I tried to ignore it, but that changed last night. He whispered in my dream to come and find it.
His voice startled me at first; I couldn’t see him no matter how hard I looked, but the voice was unmistakable. There’s something in those pages I need to see and after explaining it to Xadiel, we teleported back to Italy not long ago.
Like the last time, the ward is up, reaching out to me and my wolf, allowing us entry once within the border limits. But that’s where the similarities end. Death is all around us, feeding the ground, and I recognize it for what it is.
“Blood magic.”
“What did you say?” Xadiel pulls on the reigns and Pearl halts, shifting from foot to foot. She, too, senses something’s off. “What do you see?”
“I don’t see…I feel it.” Ignoring his command for the horse to stop, I tap her side and she rushes forward at a speed he’s not accustomed to. Pearl doesn’t pause until we’re at the entrance to our home, and my eyes take in the carnage. Bodies on the ground, cut and bleeding—feeding the enchantment of a powerful wielder.
They’re alive, but weak. The sight of our people subjugated like this is enough for a red haze of ire to overtake me.
I’m back to the night our parents were killed and I ran with my siblings to safety.
I’m back to finding Meera and what’s left of her coven. They were chained and drained like this while some piece-of-shit warlock abused them.
I’m back to Xadiel’s almost rejection because of a selfish woman and a fae practitioner’s dark influence under Larue’s orders. Because it all tracks back to him. The same stench of decay left behind by blood magic.
“We’re in this together, |
Isabella. I fight for you.”
“And I love you, my king.” Turning my face, I give his lips a quick kiss—pour all my love and appreciation into the singular touch—before ripping myself away. He tries to reach for me, but I’m moving faster than I ever have before.
“Isabella!”
“Prohibere. Sanguis ad vos reverteur.” All blood flow stops at the powerful command, and those on the floor gasp a heaving breath. They choke, coughing and groaning, but I don’t pause to check on anyone as I return what’s been taken. They’ll be well soon.
My attention is on the house now, and more importantly, a female’s bloodcurdling scream that rends the air a second later. It’s familiar and came from beyond the wide-open doors—the following crash is loud.
