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1
The Coven often cautioned young witches that bad luck came in threes, but I never found that omen to be true. Trouble, like the ebbs and flows of a wild winter storm, possessed no logic, only the desire to destroy. And trouble always had a way of finding me, no matter how diligently I tried to avoid it.
On this particularly gloomy December night, I found myself sequestered inside my dank, windowless cavern of a room within the elusive Vampire Court.
It lacked the warmth and comforts of my space inside the Coven estate, but it also had the benefit of complete privacy. A year ago, I would have never been caught dead near the bloodsuckers, but then Alexei Vasyliev happened.
The too-bright lamplight strained my eyes as I focused on the rusted pair of spectacles I tinkered with. These glasses, imbued with the ability to show the wearer their truest desire, wouldn’t be so terrible if they didn’t also contain a curse that would drive the wearer completely mad. Not just mad—absolutely feral—until they destroyed their own lives chasing after fruitless aims.
When the vampire prince first introduced the cursed talismans into my life, I became increasingly fascinated with the objects imbued with illicit dark magick by the original spirit witches of Bled Island. A tragic tale I only vaguely knew from our history books and whatever morsels Alexei deigned to share with me.
But as I spent months trudging through failure after failure to break the corrupted curses within the stolen objects, they soon lost their appeal. Such magick broke the laws of balance and could not exist in our evolving world.
Or so Alexei said.
His secretive past with the Bled witches and the cursed objects remained a mystery, along with the way to fully break the corrupted magick within them.
The frames suddenly sent a zap of magick at me, singing my fingertips to blistering points. I hissed, dropping them back onto my crowded workspace with a curse.
Quickly, I dipped my fingers into the amber jar of fragrant healing balm I kept nearby for such occurrences. The calendula and honey infused with moon water soothed my singed skin, and I sat back in my chair with a sigh, letting my chocolate-brown waves hang in brief defeat.
I looked at the spectacles with a grimace, dreading the pain they would lob at me next. The corrupted talismans possessed a penchant for striking out with violence when you tried to toy with their power within.
In my weakness, I searched through my canvas bag stuffed to the brim with ingredients and grimoires until I located the talisman that could solve this problem with little effort.The Amulet of Davorina—the Bled heirloom Ember won from Alexei last Samhain after she discovered his cousin’s killer.
The onyx diamond glistened ominously, the power emanating from the stone more eerie and ill-boding than any other talisman I had come across this past year.
It granted the wearer intensified power, channeling their magick to achieve aims they could hardly dream of. Too bad the magick within remained corrupted, meaning a well-intentioned surge of power could either help or hurt my efforts to varying degrees of destruction.
With a heaved sigh, I placed the necklace around my neck, and with more confidence, lifted the spectacles in my grip. Under the influence of the amulet, my spirit magick rose through me like a heavy cloud until I nearly burst with it.
That tendril of power rushed to the surface and sought the darkness embedded in the spectacles like a hawk diving for its prey. I whispered the spell to dampen the magick, holding firm when it tried to lash out with more offensive sparks. As sweat misted my brow, the glass cracked, sending shards over my wooden workspace.
My eyes glinted with triumph at the dulled magick that barely lingered.
A success in my book.
I felt a nudge along my chest, reminding me of the talisman I still wore. Quickly, I dropped the amulet back into the dark recesses of my bag before I exploded another tabletop with my turbulent emotions.
And not a moment too soon. The door behind me creaked open.
I slipped my bag to the floor, hiding the evidence of the amulet as my spine stiffened irritably. I didn’t need to turn to know who lurked in the darkness. Only two vampires in the entire city knew where to find my lair, and Silas had better things to do than spy on a witch he didn’t want on the premises.
To calm my suddenly racing heart, I smoothed my simple black dress down my legs, feeling the vampire’s attention following the trail of my fingers. “Was there something you needed, or did you plan on watching me like a stalker all night?”
I faced the vampire in question, bracing myself for the full effect of Alexei Vasyliev’s beauty. Everything about the vampire prince screamed wealth and sensuality, from his meticulously maintained wardrobe to the cultured manners he displayed when it suited him.
Not that anyone would dare call Alexei Vasilyev agentleman.
“Is my presence distracting you, darling?” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned against the doorframe in his expensive two-piece black suit, before he swept a casual hand through his raven locks.
I felt my eyes grow heavy-lidded despite my irritation.
Damn his Slovenian accent and the words purred with that charm he always seemed to emit through his pores. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. Hewasknown as the Prince of Pleasure, after all. Which made his flirtatious smile all the more infuriating.
Males like him could promise fun for a night, but the havoc they wreaked on your life made the pleasure nowhere near worth it. Alexei Vasilyev was the last male on Gaia I would allow myself to desire—and the only male who made me feel truly alive. Ihatedhim for it.
“Distracting me?” I sneered. “You have nothing that would steal my attention away from my duties other than your incessant hovering. Sort of like a mosquito—desperate and irritating.”
