Book Two of the Broken Souls Trilogy

Melody Joanne

I will break free,

whether he wants me to or not…

Destruction’s Desire

Copyright © Melody Joanne.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction.

First edition, 2024.

Book cover design by Krafigs Design

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-0692790-0-2

Table of Contents

Author Note

Trigger warnings

Dedication

Preface

Part 1 – Threads of Haze

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Part 2 – Threads of Shadow

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Part 3 – Threads of Light

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Sneak Peek – Freedom’s Fury

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Author Note

This is book two in the Broken Souls Trilogy, and you need to read book one, Creation’s Captive, to understand what is happening in this story.

Vivian has a habit of making up rules for herself. As such, I’ve started each chapter of this book with one of her rules. I hope you enjoy them, and I would love to know your favorite! Personally, I’m a fan of rule five.

Thank you so much for picking up this book and continuing to read Vivian’s journey! It truly means the world to me. Please consider leaving a rating or review on Amazon, as ratings help authors be able to keep doing what we love.

Finally, for exclusive behind-the-scenes access to things like early ARCs, giveaways, and new releases, be sure to check out my Facebook group, Melody’s Midnight Musings: Dark Fantasy & Romance.

Trigger warnings

This book gets dark. If you fight with depression, please, take care. As someone who fights every day to keep living, putting that struggle into words nearly broke me. Every one of my triggers was breathed to life in this book. Why? Because I want you to know you aren’t alone. I see you. I am you. We fight back. Always.

This book is not meant to glorify these topics. Your mental health matters. Trigger warnings include but are not limited to:

-          Violence

-          Bullying

-          Trauma

-          Depression

-          Blood

-          Choking

-          Domination

-          Hair pulling

-          Biting

-          Marking

-          Praise kink

-          Gaslighting

-          Breeding (mentioned)

-          Slavery

-          Cliff-hanger ending

-          Restraining

-          Kidnapping

-          Possessive MMC

-          Child abuse/assault (mentioned)

-          Suicidal thoughts

-          Rape (mentioned)

-          Abusive relationship

-          Somnophilia

-          Anal

-          Breath play

-          Face fucking

-          Blackmail

-          Narcissism

-          Murder

Dedication

To the fantasy romance readers,

I get it, I want to escape too.

Now, squeeze those thighs together,

and turn the page.

That’s my good girl.

Preface

Sin’s Point of View

The mortal is tiny.

She’s weak, too.

She blacked out the second we hit the wards guarding the Shadow Realm. I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been watching her for years.

This mortal is nothing like the warrior we faced in Atlantis. She looks about as fierce as a kitten, passed out in my arms.

What does surprise me is the state I’ve found her in.

Fates above, I knew Leon was a piece of shit, but I didn’t think he’d go so far as to hurt the mortal.

They’re supposed to be destined for each other. The idiot has a piss-poor way of treating his fated.

Guilt and rage war with each other as I take in her sorry state.

She’s bleeding from multiple cuts, and there’s a piece of wood lodged in her arm. I can see bruises circling her neck and down her arms. She looks more pale than usual.

We led her to her own slaughter.

When we found the mortal four years ago, Morgana insisted we only keep an eye on her to ensure she survived long enough to find Leon. Once the two were reunited, we’d open up communication channels. If the prophecy is to come to light, Leon and the mortal must be together. That’s the only way this will work.

Our plans fell apart when Magnus, our spy in the black market, reported that the mortal might be in danger from Leon.

That changed everything.

The mortal stirs in my arms, but we aren’t quite at Morgana’s castle yet.

“Sleep,” I command her.

My influence is fast-acting, and she once again stills in my arms.

I don’t want her waking until I’ve had a chance to remove the wood shard from her arm. While I could just as easily use my destructive powers to remove the wood – I’d rather do it with medical supplies on hand.

Mortals are delicate creatures. Best not to take chances.

I try not to notice her scent. Or the silky feel of her hair brushing against my arm.

She might look like a siren, but she’s just another Council puppet — an obedient little princess born to serve the whims of the corrupt.

Her existence disgusts me.

And yet – our sources say Leon is still wearing his collar.

And the mortal is in a broken state.

I hold her a little more tightly as we enter Morgana’s castle.

If the mortal fought Leon and didn’t give in to the Council, then maybe, this kitten has claws.

Part 1 – Threads of Haze

“The scariest monsters are the ones

that lurk within our souls.”

- Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 1

Rule one: Always be aware of your surroundings.

Some things get old very quickly.

Take waking up in strange places, for instance. That shit got old three wake-ups ago.

A rush of adrenaline surges through me the moment I open my eyes, obliterating the usual sleep haze that clings to me when I wake.

This isn’t my room.

The stones that line the walls are a dark and polished gray, their smooth sides reflecting the sunlight that shines through a single window next to my bed. I frown, trying to find any sign of familiarity, but much to my consternation, the room is rather lacking in personal touches. Other than a wooden chest at the end of the bed and a green upholstered chair to my right, it’s bare.

Even without more to go off, I already know this isn’t Leon’s castle. The walls don’t match.

I don’t know this place.

My heart rate picks up, and I take a deep inhale, willing my pulse to calm down.

There’s no reason to panic. At this point, I should just assume I’ll be in unfamiliar territory every time I wake up. It’s not ideal, but at least I woke up on a bed. That’s a step up from waking up on grass.

Rubbing at my temples, I try to piece my life back together. It’s been difficult to remember things ever since I woke Leon. I’m assuming that’s yet another disturbing side effect of the bond.

But to my surprise, the memories are quick to come flooding back.

Leon trying to use our bond to get me to unlock his collar, his hands all over me, my refusing to free him, and the fight that ensued.

My breathing picks up as the memories flash by. Whether it’s from fear, anxiety, or both, I’m not sure. But my final waking memory is the one that just about stops my heart.

An unfamiliar voice and being grabbed from behind.

My first instinct is to crawl back under the blankets and pretend none of this ever happened. Maybe if I fall back asleep, I’ll wake up and learn this has all been a nightmare.

But as tempting as that course of action may be, I resist the urge. Not because of some ill-fated attempt at bravery, but rather because of sheer stubbornness.

I made a goal to be more aware of my surroundings, and I’m damn well going to stick to it.

Considering I’ve already managed to be transported to a new place without any idea where I am, I’m failing miserably at my goal.

I need to do better.

Think, Vivian, use your damn head.

My head really hurts.

Taking another deep inhale, I try to stop the throbbing directly behind my eyes.

I can do this.

When faced with big problems, it’s best to take things one step at a time and break down seemingly impossible tasks into smaller, more manageable goals.

Did I learn that habit from a day planner?

Yes.

But I think the strategy holds up.

Another breath, and I start to break down my problems. First, I’ve been magically bonded to a potentially dangerous man. Second, an even more dangerous man might try to blow up the universe. And finally, third, I’ve possibly been kidnapped by a strange man.

I’m starting to see a pattern emerge. Are men the root of all my problems?

I should have stuck to reading about them. Men written by women are much less of a hazard.

Focus, Vivian.

Alright, one problem at a time. My first and most pressing problem is my possible kidnap predicament.

I mull the word around in my mind.

Kidnap.

It should be enough to terrify me. I have enough hours logged watching true crime specials to have a very good idea of how badly kidnappings can go. But logistically speaking, there’s no way.

I have an all-too-recent memory of what happens when Leon and I are apart. When he left me to go see Need, the distance between us resulted in excruciating pain on my end. Given the absence of agony ripping through my body, Leon must be close by. If I had to take a guess, this must be the Council’s castle.

Why do neither of those thoughts help to ease my anxiety?

A chill runs down my spine at the thought that Leon could enter this room at any moment.

The last time I saw him, Leon was out of control. He was furious when I refused to give in to his demands. Namely, he wants me to unlock his collar so he can potentially kill my entire town in a battle with another all-powerful Destroyer. Oh, and not to mention, he’s also demanding my love, my blind obedience, and quite possibly, my womb.

Can’t forget those little tidbits.

A haze of despair curls around my throat, its icy grip trying to steal away my breath.

One step at a time, Vivian. Focus on what you can control.

The idea that I have any control is laughable, considering my life has been commandeered by all-powerful supernatural creatures. I’m pretty sure I’d have more control over a natural disaster.

At least you can take shelter from a tornado. But a Destroyer who can un-exist your realm with a single thought? That probably isn’t covered by bunkers.

Silently slipping out of bed, I’m distracted by my full bladder and focus on finding a bathroom.

Small goals.

There are two doors on the other side of the room, and while one is closed, the other is slightly ajar.

Tiptoeing across the worn wooden floors, I cringe when one of the floorboards creaks.

Still not a super spy.

Shame.

I’d like to think some lessons are so painful, you only need to learn them once. When I was kidnapped by my classmates, I realized that it’s better for dangerous people to think you’re asleep for as long as possible.

Of course, even with that piece of wisdom, I manage to stub my toe on a loose floorboard and let out a small expletive.

At the sound, I freeze, wincing at the pain in my toe and the noise I just made. I wait three breaths, listening for any sign of life outside my room. But nothing happens.

I’m counting that as a silver lining.

Luckily, my suspicions are correct, and there’s a small ensuite bathroom behind the open door. I don’t hesitate to close it and lock it behind me.

The state of the bathroom reinforces my suspicion that I’m no longer in Leon’s castle. Leon’s place had chamber pots, whereas this bathroom almost looks like it’s come out of the human realm. There’s a toilet, a black marble sink, and a walk-in shower made from shining black tile. I can almost pretend I’m visiting a resort back in my own realm. I just need to ignore the small orbs of light floating above my head.

A few moments later, I happen to catch sight of myself in the large mirror that hangs over the bathroom sink. The sight that stares back at me looks eerily similar to what I saw after my classmates attacked me. My eyes are sunken in, and there are dark smudges underneath them. One of my arms is a myriad of purple and blue bruises, and I can distinctly make out the shapes of Leon’s fingers. My other arm is bandaged, but more blue marks are peeking over the edges.

At least Leon had the decency to patch me up after he hurt me.

The thought has my stomach twisting.

How am I going to get away from this man?

Death.

He said the only way to break the bond is through death.

I’m no expert, but I think I might be in a toxic relationship.

The haze of despair grows larger, and I can feel it winding more tightly around my throat. It’s suffocating.

There’s no air.

My hands clamp down on the edges of the sink, and I can feel a panic attack coming on.

Fighting the urge to hyperventilate, I force myself to take deep belly breaths. Panic attacks are nothing new, not after that night in the woods. I’ve had years to find a strategy that can stop them.

Rather than letting the fear paralyze me, I focus on compartmentalizing it. I shove the emotion into a box in my head specifically reserved for repressed feelings. Once the fear is locked away, I can’t feel it.

My breathing starts to slow, and the clawing sensation around my throat subsides.

I don’t have the luxury of letting myself fall apart right now. It’s like the saying, ‘There’s a time and place for everything.’

If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve never found the time or place to have an emotional breakdown. I’m hell-bent on keeping my depression in remission. I can’t even imagine what opening those emotional boxes would do to that goal.

That’s a definite ‘no thank you’ from me.

Only after the attack has fully ceased do I notice I’m not in my own clothes. Instead, I’m wearing a pair of gray leggings and a black T-shirt that’s far too big for me. I stare at them, dumbfounded, until I remember that my clothes are probably still strewn around the broken table shards in Leon’s castle.

I guess I didn’t think to put them back on when I was crawling on the floor, gasping through blinding pain.

My body gives an unconscious shiver. It’s both from the thought of Leon and the violation that someone dressed my unconscious body.

Swallowing, I shove those thoughts down.

If I ever do decide to try and process my trauma, I’m going to need ice cream. I have a sneaking suspicion that guided meditation won’t cut it if that day ever comes. But if I want to survive long enough to make it back to the land of frozen treats, I need to be smart and find a way to escape Leon.

Because I will be free again.

Giving myself a stern look, I mutter what I hope will be the pep talk of the century, “Suck it up, Vivian. No one is coming to save you. If you fall apart, your loved ones die. Now. Get. It. Together.”

I make a mental note to look into a career writing motivational quotes as I step back into my room.

Only, it isn’t empty anymore. A man is leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

I freeze.

He’s tall, at least a head and a half taller than me, and huge. Not just in height, but in bulk. The man looks like a warlord. His dark brown hair falls just past his shoulders, and he has a short but somewhat scruffy beard. His skin is a deep bronze, reflecting hours spent outside. I think he might be in his early thirties, but it’s hard to tell with immortals.

I’m not staring. I’m taking in my surroundings.

Assessing.

Goals are serious business.

Do I assess his muscular arms crossed in front of him and the intricate knotwork of tattoos that interlace over them?

Of course.

But that’s okay because I haven’t one hundred percent ruled out that I might be a kidnap victim.

I need to pay attention to details, just in case. I’m positive I heard a survivor on a true crime special say that once.

Besides, he’s the one who came into my room without knocking. He’s the creepy one. Not me.

At my silence, the intruder cocks an eyebrow at me. His eyes are a piercing light gray, almost blue. They contrast his snug-fitting black T-shirt that definitely doesn’t show off his chest muscles.

“About done?” he asks.

I swallow, trying not to let my cheeks heat.

His voice is low and gravelly. I can appreciate that. Not that I’m in the market for any more supernatural love interests. I already have my hands full trying to handle one large, scary, tattooed man.

More importantly, I recognize his voice. This is the man who grabbed me from outside Leon’s castle. The recognition cuts my ogling short, and I glare at him. “Who are you, and where am I?”

If the stranger is put off by my directness, he gives no indication of it. He stays on his side of the room, looking relaxed. But there’s a barely concealed tension rippling through his body. I have no doubt that if I were to try and run right now, this man would pounce.

Yet again, someone is looking at me like I’m the prey.

I don’t like that for me.

“You’re in Morgana’s castle,” he answers before pausing, as if gauging my reaction.

My brain short-circuits. Why the hell would Leon bring me to Morgana’s castle?

The answer is simple - he wouldn’t. Clearly, the stranger is lying to me. But why?

He doesn’t embellish his answer, and stands there, assessing me right back.

A new theory starts to form in my mind. Maybe the Council is trying to trick me. Maybe this is some kind of pseudo-kidnapping loyalty test.

That sounds like a very councily move.

I keep my voice level as I answer him, “Nice try. Where is Leon?”

Don’t give them an ounce of emotion.

If this is a test, then I need to pass. I can’t give the Council any more reason to suspect I’m anything other than a regular human. I just know things will go from bad to worse if Need finds out about my ghost powers.

The stranger’s calm facade falters, and a flicker of disgust ghosts across his expression. “Leon is back in the Otherworld. You’re in the Shadow Realm now.”

The look of disgust is unsurprising. I already know people in the Otherworld hate Leon after he tainted his Creator powers and was demoted to a Destroyer.

The stranger is back to looking bored now. Maybe doing Council loyalty tests is his daily job. Maybe I’m the seventh person he’s tried to trick today. I can see how that would get boring.

“That’s impossible,” I deadpan. “I’d feel it in our bond.”

He smirks, and it’s spiteful. “The bond between Keepers and Destroyers is strong. But not strong enough to pass through different realms. Leon can’t enter the Shadow Realm.”

He practically spits Leon’s name.

I frown at his response. If I’m wrong and this man is telling the truth, then I’ve actually been kidnapped.

By the enemy.

Is that even possible?

My mind reels, looking for some thread of logic.

Was I still within the protective wards when I was in the water outside of Leon’s castle?

The blood drains from my face. I was with Leon when he made the wards. He never entered the water. More obviously, there was a forsaken spirit in the water with me.

I left the wards. I left myself unprotected.

The stranger rolls his eyes before adding, “If we wanted you dead, you’d already be rotting back in Leon’s pond.”

Is that supposed to make me feel safe?

I can think of a lot of things that are worse than death.

A heartbeat passes, and I school my expression back to one that looks brave. I can’t afford to show any more fear than I already have.

“Who. Are. You?” I ask again, putting force behind each word.

The stranger’s jaw works, like he’s debating whether to answer my question. His gaze locks on mine, and I swear I see a challenge. I hope my own looks defiant.

Another slight smirk, and he finally answers, “My name is Sin.”

Chapter 2

Rule two: Always tie more knots.

To my credit, I don’t run.

I don’t even breathe.

Sin – the dark and evil Destroyer that Leon and I are supposed to kill. The creature who might be released at any moment and end all the realms.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Of course I look.

My eyes dart to his neck, drawn by the magnetic pull of morbid curiosity.

Sin notices, and his smirk grows wider before more tattoos spiral across his skin, glowing a deep red.

I barely notice them.

My stare is locked on his neck, where there’s a noticeable gap. A gap that should be filled by the same energy collar I left on Leon.

Sin’s powers are free.

“Oh fuck,” I whisper.

Are there social etiquette rules for getting kidnapped by someone who you’re supposed to help murder? Sin said that if he wanted me dead, I would be. So, he doesn’t outright plan on killing me. But will he change his mind if he finds out I’m part of an active plot to kill him?

Let’s not find out.

I can’t just keep staring at him in horror. My resolve to not show fear is a distant wish.

Say something, Vivian!

“You’re not collared.”

Why am I like this?

My social skills have not improved in the last few days.

At my words, the warlord-wannabe narrows his eyes, giving me every indication that he is very offended by my remark.

“Obviously,” he responds dryly.

My cheeks heat, and I try to explain my reasoning, hoping Sin doesn’t get destructive when he’s annoyed. “It’s just – they said you’d blow up the universe if you were uncollared.”

I figured Magnus was lying when he said Morgana released Sin millennia ago. After all, everyone is convinced Sin will destroy realms if he’s free. Unless… did Sin just get released? Did he kidnap me so he could have an audience while he blows up realms? Oh god, was I too stubborn in not releasing Leon?

This is it. I knew I shouldn’t be entrusted with the fate of humanity. We’re all screwed because I have control issues.

Sin lets out a blistering sigh. It’s almost as if he can see the gears in my head spiraling. “Mortal, I have been uncollared for a very long time. If I was going to destroy the realms, I already would have. So, you can stop looking like you are responsible for the death of the universe.”

I like to think of myself as someone who is difficult to read. Mysterious, if you will.

Clearly, I am delusional.

Mulling over his words, I can’t help but remember that I’ve had those exact thoughts before they were wiped out by the brain fog.

Yet again, I recognize that something isn’t adding up. Why would the Council want to kill Sin now if he’s had the potential to blow up the universe for ages?

As the thoughts cross my mind, I wince, waiting for the searing pain and brain fog that is sure to follow my anti-Council thoughts. But nothing happens.

No pain. No fog.

My eyes widen, and a forbidden emotion starts to surface. Hope is dangerous, and a small seed of it lodges itself within the cloud of despair that still hovers around me.

Sin still watches me closely, like he’s working to decode my every expression.

“You mentioned the bond’s influence doesn’t work across realms?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“The bonds are powerful, but not strong enough to pass through realms. Morgana’s realm is well protected. Leon won’t find you here,” he says cruelly, as if I’m being punished by being separated from Leon.

My knees go weak, and I sink to the floor. It’s probably a stupid thing to do in front of your kidnapper, but the relief that hits me is absolute.

The bond can’t reach me here.

Leon can’t reach me here.

I try to take calming breaths so I don’t start to sob. After three good inhales, I finally glance up. Sin looks utterly disgusted with me.

I don’t have the energy to care.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Have I traded one nightmare for another?

Probably. But at least no one is touching me on this side of my waking terror.

At my gratitude, Sin glances at my bandaged arm, and his disgust morphs into unadulterated rage. His tattoos flare once before he shutters the expression.

Maybe he suffers from mood swings. I can recommend some guided meditation videos for that.

Minutes go by in silence. Sin slowly starts to look uncomfortable as he realizes I’m not getting back up. The tears threatening to spill from my eyes are probably not making this less awkward for him.

I make a mental note that emotions make my kidnapper uncomfortable.

Do we have that in common?

Yes.

Do I plan on storing that information away for later use?

Absolutely.

I might be a trainwreck, but if I’m going down, I’m dragging everyone responsible for the last week of my life with me.

Sin clears his throat before heading towards the door. “You should get more rest. Your body is weak and still hasn’t recovered from the realm jump.”

The red glow in his tattoos has completely faded, leaving only black swirling ink.

I don’t move from the floor or even bother responding. I think not having an uncollared Destroyer in my room bodes a bit better for my survival. Not much, but a bit.

Sin pauses at my door to look back at me. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but shakes his head and closes the door behind him.

His footsteps echo down the hall, but I stay rooted to the floor, still not trusting my legs.

I’m free of the bond’s influence.

I’m free of Leon.

A tear finally slides down my cheek, and I hug my knees tightly – as if the action will help me to hold myself together.

The room is silent, and without any distractions, the twisted parts of my emotions grow louder. It’s horrible for me to feel so relieved at being separated from Leon. The man is literally my destiny and loves me more than anyone ever has. More than I’ve ever deserved.

I knew I was broken.

So broken that I can’t accept whatever version of love he has for me. So broken that I can’t find it in me to trust him with his own power. So broken that I can’t adapt to his culture.

The last thought has me swallowing a lump in my throat. There is so much wrong with what I saw in the Otherworld. Souls pushed into slavery, Leon wanting me to be subservient to him.

I couldn’t do it.

I still can’t do it. And given Leon’s violent outburst at my pushback… My body shudders.

I don’t think I’m safe with Leon. He will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.

But if Leon can’t enter the Shadow Realm, then maybe I have more options than I’d initially thought.

Zero. That’s how many options I had before.

But now, my luck might be changing from completely non-existent to only morbidly abysmal.

I can work with that.

I think back to my brief visit to the Otherworld. I saw very little of the realm, but what I did see hinted that it was vast. I know my own realm is huge, too. A girl could get lost in a place like that. And with no bond to tie me back to anyone here, maybe this is the opportunity I’ve been looking for.

But if I’m going to take this chance, I can’t hide away in this room, waiting to see what the enemy will do to me.

Sin didn’t explain why he kidnapped me.

My heart drops as I connect the dots. He’s probably just holding on to me to make a trade with Leon.

I’m not going to stick around to be a bargaining chip.

Uncurling from my pity ball, I pace over to the window. It’s still daytime, and ironically, it’s a bright and sunny day. Who would have thought a place called the Shadow Realm would get sunshine? A brochure would have been nice.

Unlike the Council’s castle, there’s no city wrapped around Morgana’s place. At least not on the side that my room is facing. Instead, green hills extend out from the castle walls until they meet a massive forest. The forest stretches over the horizon.

That could work.

Looking down, a quick count of windows reveals I’m on the third story. It’s too high to jump but not too high to get creative.

I test the latch, and the window swings open without issue. Turning, my pulse starts to pick up. I might be a sorry excuse for a ghost whisperer and thief, but maybe I can cut it as a prison breaker.

I might not have any real-world experience with most situations, but I’ve read enough books to have mad survival skills.

At least, in theory I do. Whether those skills translate into real life will be another matter entirely.

My focus lands on the pile of blankets on my bed. I’m going to assume that fabricating a rope out of bed sheets is cliché for a reason. The sheets are a soft cotton, but they must be high quality because my measly muscles can’t tear them.

Bummer.

Rolling my lips between my teeth, I look around the room for something sharp. Sin was probably smart enough to remove all the knives and scissors in the room before I woke up. But if he didn’t think to put bars on my window, then he’s underestimated me.

Big mistake on his part.

My eyes lock on the still-open bathroom door, and a grin breaks across my face. Mirrors can be sharp.

Pulling the pillowcase off the bed, I wrap it around my hand as I dart back to the bathroom. I almost snort when I remember that breaking a mirror is supposed to give you seven years of bad luck. Considering my shitty past and most recent break from normality, I don’t think anything I do will change my relationship with lady luck.

I’m already on her bad side.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I punch the mirror. After a sickening crunch, I peek, only to see it’s the mirror that cracked and not my fist. My hand aches, and I flex it a few times. I don’t have any broken bones, but that hit is probably going to leave me with another wicked bruise.

Yet again, I hold my breath, waiting to see if someone will barge into the room and catch me. For all I know, the only reason Sin walked away from my room was because he had a guard stationed outside of it.

Nothing happens.

Bingo.

Gingerly picking out the largest mirror shard, I get to work. I think movies may have downplayed the effort that goes into making ropes from blankets. The seconds stretch into what feels like hours as I tug the mirror shard through the sheets. With every ripping sound, my eyes dart back to the door, waiting to be caught red-handed. And I mean literally red-handed. I should not be trusted with sharp objects. Blood coats my hands from the dozens of cuts I’ve managed to give myself.

Finally, my blood, sweat and tears are rewarded when I hold up a braided rope. I’m not sure it’s strong enough to hold me, but I’m ready to risk it.

The only person I can trust is myself. Beyond my glaring issues with Leon, I have no faith in the Council or the person who voluntold me to be Leon’s Keeper.

I’m positive Need deceived me on purpose. She made it sound as though Sin and Morgana had only just escaped when she roped me into her supernatural affairs. And no part of me has forgotten what Leon told me about Sin’s powers. Sin specializes in mind control.

I refuse to have my free will influenced again.

With my rope ready, I move to the end of the bed but pause when I glance at the chest. I probably should have checked it before I made my rope. Maybe the chest will have something warmer to wear or shoes. Shoes would be great.

As I open it, the hinges make a loud squeak, and I cringe at the sound. If someone is guarding my door, there’s no way they didn’t hear that. But again, nothing happens. Exhaling, I look inside.

The chest’s contents confirm my suspicions that Sin didn’t leave any weapons for me to find. It’s mostly full of empty journals, and to my delight, there’s also a warm cloak. My chances of freezing to death just got marginally smaller.

Grabbing the cloak, I also think to shove one of the journals into a pocket, so I can use the pages to start a fire. How I’ll make fire is a mystery, but I am focusing on one problem at a time.

With my new supplies tucked away, I get to work on tying off my rope to the foot of my four-poster bed. Hopefully, the bed is heavy enough that it won’t drag across the floor once it’s supporting my weight.

Is knotting the rope four times considered overkill?

Or would it be underkill? As in, many knots reduce my chances of falling to my death.

I giggle under my breath, even though I know the joke is lame. But I need the humor to avoid thinking about how stupid my next move is.

Satisfied with my knots, I decide not to dwell on silly things like the odds of breaking my neck.

Peeking out the window, I’m relieved that the castle grounds are still devoid of all signs of life. For a castle, this place is weirdly deserted. The Council’s castle had people all around it.

I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that Sin and Morgana don’t have any friends.

That checks out. I’m guessing being evil villains probably doesn’t mesh well with sending out holiday cards.

I toss the rest of the rope out the window. It doesn’t quite reach the ground, but it looks like I’ll only be falling about eight feet instead of neck-breaking height. I throw the cloak down next. It billows down before landing in a heap.

My stomach twists at the sight.

I really hope the rope holds.

The window ledge is wide, and I gingerly lay across it, lowering my legs over the edge. I hold on to the rope for dear life.

Thankfully, the bed doesn’t budge, despite my added weight.

That’s promising.

I start to shimmy over the ledge. The cuts on my hands sting as they rub against the fabric. But rather than focusing on the pain, I keep my eyes trained on the rope, admiring my blanket braiding craftsmanship.

My climbing efforts are about as graceful as my attempt at stealing a surfboard. Painful for me and riddled with second-hand embarrassment for anyone who might be watching.

But considering I haven’t broken my neck yet, I think I’m nailing this.

Another breath, and I’m fully off the ledge.

My entire life is suspended midair. The wind blows my body around, and I take this moment to feel grateful that I’m claustrophobic and not afraid of heights.

The blanket rope is holding, and before my arms can tire out, I plant my feet against the stone wall and start to climb down. It takes no time for my muscles to burn, but I push through the pain and keep climbing.

I’m making good progress when, suddenly, the rope goes slightly more slack, and I drop a few inches.

It takes every ounce of my self-control not to scream. There must be a knot coming undone.

It’s times like this when I really wish I had taken the initiative to join Girl Scouts as a child. I’m guessing normal knots might not be recommended for death-defying climbs.

Hustling now, I keep moving down the rope as fast as my sore body will allow me.

This probably counts as another adrenaline-inducing activity.

I’m really counting on it not being another near-death or full-death experience.

Sweat is starting to drip down my forehead into my eyes. It’s warm, like an early summer day back home on the coast. There’s a mugginess and humidity in the air that is starting to feel stifling.

My hands are cramping.

I don’t dare look down and keep climbing, willing my knots to hold just a little longer.

The knots do not, in fact, hold.

I’m just about to give myself another mental pep talk when the rope goes fully slack.

I fall.

Chapter 3

Rule three: If the forest looks like a sanctuary for killer clowns, don’t enter it.

Idon’t scream.

There isn’t time.

All I manage is a sharp intake of breath before I hit the ground. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, and my vision goes dark.

I lie there, blinking through the pain, waiting for my eyesight to return. I wasn’t in the market for an upgrade, but now I have the added bonus of bright spots dotting my vision.

Staring up at the sky, I contemplate my life choices. Was climbing down a window with a blanket rope my best idea?

The answer depends on whether I’ve critically injured myself. If I can still escape, then it was a great idea.

Unfortunately, the shock of the fall is making it difficult to know whether I’m about to bleed out and die.

Taking a deep breath, I take stock of my body. The fact that I can breathe at all makes me think I didn’t fall too far. I feel like falling from the third story would probably result in a punctured lung.

Sitting up, I test the rest of my body for any new injuries.

I’m sore but not broken. And honestly, if that isn’t a metaphor for life, then I don’t know what is. I’d probably be more inspired, except I already know I’m broken. But that’s only mentally and emotionally. Physically? I’m going to pull through.

My eyes catch on the cloak, only two feet from where I fell. Landing on something soft would have been nice. But, of course, the universe is in no mood to accommodate my feelings.

I’m on my own. Situation no change.

Picking up the cloak, I take a moment to lean against the castle wall. Standing makes the world spin. Also, the stones are cool, and they soothe my sore back.

Silver lining, at least no one has come running yet.

Other than Sin, I haven’t seen or heard another soul here. It’s adding a lot of fuel to my ‘Morgana and Sin have no friends’ theory.

The spinning in my head starts to slow, but my thoughts still feel a bit fuzzy – likely the result of yet another head injury.

Rubbing at my temples, I try to keep my plan straight in my possibly concussed mind.

Step one was to escape the castle. Nailed it.

Step two, get to the forest, and don’t get caught. Ideally, the forest will eventually lead to a town.

Step three, trade labor for food and a place to sleep.

The Shadow Realm sounds like the kind of place that would have an inn. I’ve worked as a barista and mastered an espresso machine. Working at an inn doesn’t seem like too far of a leap.

It isn’t the best-conceived plan, but it’s better than being a prisoner.

The castle walls stretch on either side of me, barring my view of anything that may be on the other sides. All I can see is the distant forest. But I don’t dare make my way around the walls to look for alternate routes. The longer I stay here, the greater my odds are of getting caught.

With renewed urgency, I start towards the forest.

My escape route isn’t ideal. The open green hills offer nothing in the way of cover. I’m tempted to run or at least jog to my freedom. Instead, I stick to walking, hoping that at least this way, if someone does see me, I won’t look too suspicious.

Nothing to see here, just another Shadow Realm citizen who accidentally got too close to the evil villain’s castle.

Does the Shadow Realm even have citizens?

Leon mentioned the forsaken answer to Morgana. So, I’m assuming there will be some of those. But people? I hope so. Blending in will be easier if I can do it amongst the living. But if push comes to shove, I’m not above living as a hermit with the forsaken souls.

This could be the start of my bog-witch era.

Being barefoot isn’t ideal bog witch attire, but at least the grass is soft. Undoubtedly, I will be in some pain once I’m in the forest. I should have thought to grab the fallen remains of my blanket rope. I could have tied some pieces to my feet.

Hindsight is the worst.

Still, I don’t spare a glance back at the castle. I think surreptitiously sneaking glances behind me would be a dead giveaway that I’m not supposed to be here.

No can do.

It’s killing me not to look. I would love to know I’m not being followed. Instead, I strain to hear every sound. The hyperawareness is making this walk feel much longer than it really is. My adrenaline hasn’t stopped pumping.

The forest looms closer, and that dangerous emotion sneaks back in. I think I’m going to make it. I haven’t heard a sound to hint that my disappearance has been discovered.

But the closer I get to the forest, the more uneasy I start to feel. Not because I think I will get caught and dragged back to the castle, but because there’s something ‘off’ about it. The forest is dark. Even though the sun is up, it’s as if the canopy blocks out all the light, making it almost impossible to see more than a few feet inside. A thick layer of fog sticks to the forest floor, amping up the eerie vibes. There’s an unnatural stillness about the place that sends goosebumps down my arms.

To be fair, I have some forest-related trauma, but even if I didn’t, I think this place would still give me the creeps.

If there was ever a forest that probably doubles as a sanctuary for killer clowns, this is it.

The thought gives me pause, as I reach the forest’s edge.

Am I about to get myself killed?

Something about this place just feels wrong.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” a soft, melodic voice calls.

I scream.

I also jump about a foot in the air before spinning around. Only, there’s no one behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I try to figure out who on earth just spoke to me.

The incident with the forsaken in the parking garage springs to mind and reminds me to look up.

My jaw drops.

I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

It’s a fairy.

With wings.

Only she’s human-sized and quietly hovering over me. Her pink wings move so quickly that I can barely make them out. Their blur reminds me of a hummingbird.

Bright pink eyes watch me warily, and her heart-shaped face is framed by strands of matching pink hair.

I can only imagine the look of utter disbelief I must be wearing because she quickly gives me a small, apologetic smile.

“Oh, sorry about that,” she chirps and lands in front of me. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Her eyes dart to the forest, and she wrings her hands together before looking back at me. “I’m Rosenthal. But everyone just calls me Rosie.”

She said everyone. That implies there’s more people here. That’s promising.

I give her a tentative smile and hope this isn’t some kind of trap.

I didn’t get a good look at her teeth. Do fairies eat people?

My back is to the forest, and it’s making the back of my neck prickle. The sensation reminds me of when you hang your leg off the bed at night. You can’t help but feel like something is going to grab it. Most likely something of the terrifying monster variety.

I swallow, trying to dismiss my unease. Prioritizing is important. Focusing on the possibly carnivorous fairy seems like a solid strategy.

“Hi Rosie, I’m Vivian. Uhm – were you following me?”

Rosie’s hand wringing becomes more pronounced. “Well – yes. Sorry. I was flying to the garden when I noticed you walking this way, and well, we only just got you patched up, and I really think you should reconsider before going in there.”

Her eyes shift to the forest again, widening. Her feet start to tap lightly on the ground as if they’re unconsciously willing her to move away.

I guess I’m not the only one having a visceral reaction to the forest. Still, something else she said stands out as a much larger red flag. If she was back at the castle, is she here to drag me back?

I thought there would be big, burly guards, but now I’m kicking myself for my preconceived notions. I’m a feminist. I need to do better.

Frowning, I ask, “You patched me up?”

“Well, it was really Sin who did the patching, but I dressed you. It didn’t seem right for Sin to do it, and we didn’t want to leave you exposed. Do you like your leggings? I have a stash from the human realm. I thought it might be nice to wake up with something familiar.”

At her answer, I realize Rosie is sporting a pair of black leggings and a tank top.

“That’s, uhm, thank you. I appreciate it,” I answer, and I mean it. The thought that they considered who should dress me makes me feel less violated.

Rosie beams. “It’s no problem at all! I am really hoping we can be friends. I live at the castle, and it’s been so long since Morgana let someone new inside. But you’ll see we have so much in common and I would love it if you could maybe come towards me and move away from the forest.”

She’s talking a mile a minute, and I swear I can hear bells tinkling in alarm.

Immediately, I take a step backward instead, towards the forest. Rosie might seem friendly, but she lives at the castle. She is not an ally.

“I can’t do that.”

Rosie’s eyes dart left and right across the trees like she’s expecting something to jump out and eat me at any moment.

Same girl, same.

There’s a branch poking my back. Another step, and I’ll be in the forest.

A chill runs down my back. I really don’t like having my back to the woods right now. I’m only mildly comforted by the thought that, hopefully, Rosie will scream if something pops out to grab me. That might give me enough time to dart away.

On the bright side, I’m ninety-six percent sure that Rosie won’t follow me into the forest if I decide to make a break for it.

“I really think you should reconsider,” she chirps again. The alarm bells are a bit louder this time, the sound travelling as if carried by a light breeze.

“Why?” I ask, crossing my arms.

It’s probably not wise to stay here a moment longer. It’s putting a severe cramp in my escapee lifestyle. But I think I would be remiss in my goal to not die if I didn’t at least get an idea of what’s waiting for me in the forest.

Rosie’s hands twitch like she wants to reach out and pull me away. My eyes narrow on the movement, but she doesn’t try anything. “This is the forest of the forgotten dead. It’s where Morgana keeps all the dark creatures. They’re not friendly. They’ll rip you to pieces the moment they sense living flesh,” she says.

My heart sinks. That’s the kind of thing that would have been noted in a brochure.

I glance on either side of me, hoping that now that I’m far from the castle, I can spot an alternate path. But no such luck. The forest stretches on for what seems like forever.

This escape plan is not going well.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I consider my options. I don’t take my eyes off Rosie – just in case she decides to try and sneak closer. But I think she’s too worried I’ll back up any further.

Realistically, I can only see two ways forward. I either go back to being a prisoner, or I can take my chances in the forest, where I’ll likely be torn apart.

Sighing, I reluctantly accept that I need to go back.

But only to bide my time until a better escape plan comes up.

And I don’t have to be happy about it.

Conceding defeat, my shoulders drop, and I step towards Rosie. She immediately lets out the breath she must have been holding, a look of relief replacing her anxious one.

Is she relieved I didn’t escape? Or relieved I didn’t die? Either of those options would make it more challenging to use me in some kind of trade with Leon.

Rosie seems oblivious to my paranoia as she spins gracefully in the air, turning to walk with me. Her steps are hurried. It’s as if she can’t wait to get as far away from the forest as possible.

Same girl, same.

I keep pace with her, the feeling of dread growing fainter the further we get from the forest. There are definitely some creepy vibes going on there. My money is still on killer clowns.

“I’ve been so excited for you to wake up! Things get rather dull around here.”

I grind my teeth but don’t respond. If kidnapping people is her idea of a good time, then we have nothing left to talk about. We walk in silence, heading back for the castle, until Rosie tries to draw me into conversation again.

“I know Sin is really intimidating, but once you realize none of us will hurt you –”

I cut her off with a glare. “I’m not going to be anyone’s bargaining chip.”

Rosie’s eyebrows shoot skyward. “You aren’t a bargaining chip! Why would you think that?”

Her voice has an undertone of laughter – as if I’m the crazy one. Does she not know how I got here? Or is kidnapping people just a daily occurrence in the Shadow Realm?

“Well, the whole getting kidnapped by the enemy kind of gave me that impression,” I reply dryly.

“Ohhh! Oh, not at all! You can probably go home soon if that’s what you want. Morgana wouldn’t force you into being a bargaining chip,” Rosie answers matter-of-factly.

My glare falters. “What do you mean by – if I want?”

“Oh! Well…” Rosie starts, her cheeks reddening to match her pink eyes, “it’s just that, given the state you came to us in, I thought maybe you wouldn’t be keen on going back any time soon.”

My heart stops. My feet do, too. “I – I could stay here?”

Rosie’s expression softens like she has an idea of what I’ve just been through. I guess the hand-shaped bruises on my skin didn’t make it difficult to connect the dots.

“You’ll have to ask Morgana, of course. It is her castle. But she would never force you to go somewhere you didn’t want to. Other than this time, of course.” She smiles sheepishly at me before waving me on to continue following her.

I don’t respond, and we keep walking. Rosie doesn’t try to draw me into conversation again.

I could stay here, or I could go home.

A pang hits my stomach. I went into this magical bond thinking the mission would only take a few days, and I could just return my key and return to my normal life afterwards. Not that I have a particular career in mind after college, but my friends will be worried sick. They’ll check on my ransacked apartment. That will only make them worry more.

I hate leaving them like that. But I can’t risk going back. Leon would absolutely come back for me and try to exploit our bond to get what he wants.

The grief of losing my friends stabs at me, and I shove it down. Leon was ready to risk my realm, to put my friends in danger. The safest thing I can do for them is to stay far away.

If that means living my life in exile, then so be it. Their safety is worth it.

I’m not particularly keen on staying with Morgana and Sin, either. While I don’t think they’re on the verge of plunging the realms into permanent darkness – because clearly if they wanted to, they would have – who knows what other nefarious deeds they might be plotting?

I don’t know why they want me here, but hopefully, I can bide my time until a better option appears.

We’re almost at the castle now, and my gaze fixes on someone standing at the base of my window, where I took my little tumble.

It’s Sin, and he looks livid.

Chapter 4

Rule four: When surrounded by predators, don’t act like prey.

“Mortal, do you have a death wish?” Sin’s voice is low, and it holds a deadly bite, making me rethink the direction I’m walking in.

It takes me a moment to notice he’s holding something.

My blanket rope.

I guess he isn’t a fan of my craftsmanship.

Too few people value the arts these days.

Sad.

Rosie squeaks and takes to the air at Sin’s voice. It takes just a few beats of her wings before they become blurred streaks of pink, and she’s airborne. “Well, I’ll leave you two to have a chat. See you later, Vivian!”

I’m sad to see her go. But at the same time, I really can’t blame her. Being alone with an angry, uncollared Destroyer seems hazardous.

Briefly, I consider hightailing it after Rosie. But as I glance in the direction she flew off, I catch Sin’s body tensing up in the corner of my eye. It’s impossible to miss the coiling of his muscles as he gets ready to spring. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m with a predator. If I run, I’m certain I’ll set off some kind of prey drive in him.

The thought has me planting my feet and looking him dead in the eye.

I refuse to be prey.

Sin glares down at me, not saying a word. I’m considering matching his silent treatment until I realize he must be waiting for me to answer his question.

Do I have a death wish?

Not particularly. And this monster of a man looks very angry with me.

The smart thing would be to act meek. But already I know I’m an idiot, and acting meek would be prey behavior on my end.

No can do.

Besides, who gave him the right to be the angry one?

He kidnapped me.

A spark of anger ignites in my chest, burning away at my gut reaction to avoid conflict.

Is this personal growth, or am I spiraling?

A depressive spiral checks out.

“I’m fulfilling my obligations as a kidnap victim. It’s my sworn duty to try and escape,” I respond, barely keeping the irritation out of my tone.

Sin doesn’t laugh or give any indication that he might have a sense of humor.

That checks out. I assume being an evil force of destruction really saps the funny out of someone.

Instead, he steps closer, invading my personal space. With him comes the unmistakable scent of woodsmoke. I stiffen, refusing to think about how good he smells.

The enemy is not allowed to smell good. The scent is probably from the last village he pillaged and burned to the ground.

I tilt my head to glare right back at him.

Are all fantasy world men this attractive? I’m starting to think there must be an entry requirement, as in, ‘You must be at least six feet tall and have more muscles than brains to ride this realm.’

He’s trying to intimidate me, and it’s working.

My instincts are screaming at me to take a step back. Only, I’m getting really sick and tired of large men imposing themselves on me. One of the boxes in my head where I store my emotional trauma cracks open at the thought. With it comes a wave of rage.

I take a step forward.

There’s only a hair’s breadth of space between us, and I can feel the heat radiating from him.

It’s a bold move.

Too bad I have no idea where to go from here. My social compass is out of commission. I’m assuming I broke it when I fell out the window. Or, more likely, I’ve never had a functional one.

Sin arches an eyebrow at my proximity. “Tell me then, in your duties as a kidnappee, did you even bother trying your door?” There’s a mocking edge to his tone.

“I – no, of course not. I didn’t want to risk alerting any guards you had on the other side,” I answer, maybe a little defensively.

Sin grins, and the effect is breathtaking. Only it isn’t a kind gesture. The smile is pure cruelty, like a cat smiling at a mouse it’s just caught.

“The door wasn’t locked, mortal. You aren’t a prisoner here.” He talks slowly, enunciating his words like he thinks I’m an idiot.

And if that wasn’t enough of a mic drop moment, the warlord-wannabee has the audacity to walk away from me, taking my blanket rope masterpiece with him.

I’m left gaping at him as a familiar mantra starts to fill my head.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

How did I forget to check the door first?

This is why I am not cut out for horror movies – or even adventure movies for that part. I make stupid choices like freeing obsessive men from their ocean prisons and making dramatic prison breaks when I’m allegedly not even locked in.

Sin is almost to the other side of the castle by the time I catch up to him. I know he knows I’m following him, but he doesn’t wait.

Jerk.

Again, I am not surprised.

When I reach his side, I ask, “If I’m not a prisoner, then why did you kidnap me?”

Sin doesn’t even spare me a glance when he answers, “Morgana wants to speak with you. She’d hoped to speak to both you and Leon, but we were informed that things may be deteriorating quickly on that front and that speaking to only you might be a better alternative.”

My eyes widen. “What do you mean, deteriorating?”

Does he know we were asked to kill him? Is he planning to psychologically torture me before killing me?

Sin spares me a glance this time, and I swear his expression softens. “We have eyes everywhere. We were informed you might be in danger from Leon.”

I bristle, not wanting his pity. “I’m fine.”

I’m definitely not fine. When it comes to Leon, I’m the furthest from fine you can get. I don’t want to be near the man and should be livid with him.

The logical part of my brain is angry. But now that I’m not wholly preoccupied with escaping the castle, the twisted, broken edges of my emotions are getting too loud to ignore.

Leon’s outburst was all my fault.

I’m the one who kept secrets. I’m the one who refused to accept the bond. Not to mention, I accidentally blasted him into a wall.

Technically, I threw the first punch.

I grit my teeth at that dark train of thought. I saw the bruises on my skin. I’m not completely blind. I refocus on my rage to quiet the trauma-conditioning. It’s surprisingly effective.

If the best way to shut up the broken, guilt-ridden parts of me is to do things that either spark my adrenaline or rage, then I’m about to take thrill-seeking to an entirely new level.

Sin is back to looking at me like I’m a bit of dog poop he’s tracked into the house.

Does the Shadow Realm have dogs? I could use some pet therapy right about now. It seems unlikely. I’m assuming dogs would immediately sense evil and try to eat Sin.

His disgust suits me just fine.

When people see a gross-looking bug, they typically leave it alone or kill it outright to avoid touching it too much.

Disgust reduces my chances of being tortured.

Shrugging off his revulsion, I decide to rip off the proverbial band-aid. If the mistress of evil wants to speak to me, my anxiety would prefer if we did it right away. “Where is Morgana then? I’d like to speak to her, too.”

I don’t think my talk with Morgana will be a pleasant one. Based on the vibes Sin is throwing out, he seems like a strong contender for ‘bad guy number 1’. But it probably wouldn’t hurt to get both sides of the story. Then I can make an educated decision about what I should do next.

Right now, I’m leaning towards finding out if there’s a realm warded against men, and all we do is read smutty novels under soft blankets.

Maybe I can ask Rosie later.

In retrospect, her asking me nicely to please not get myself killed definitely passes the vibe check.

“Morgana isn’t here,” Sin answers, just as we reach a massive set of double wooden doors. The doors are engraved with what looks like thousands of different runes.

They look heavy, but Sin shoves one open like it weighs nothing. Unsurprisingly, he does not hold it open for me, and I need to dart in behind him to avoid being crushed.

I wait a breath for Sin to elaborate.

Another breath.

Nothing.

The box of repressed rage cracks open a little further. “Then why am I here? Can’t we just bippity-boppity-poof over to her?”

He spits his answer, “She’s on a mission and can’t be reached. This is going to be quite a shock to a Council whore, but you are not, in fact, the centre of the universe, and there are far more important things going on here other than your precious time.”

I’m getting the distinct impression that this man has a grudge against me.

I mean, fair, seeing as I am technically supposed to kill him.

But still, he doesn’t have to be mean about it.

Sin keeps moving and stomps up a long set of stairs.

“Okay, well, when is she going to be back?” I ask, trailing after him.

Reaching the top, Sin walks by a few doors before pausing in front of one. He makes a grand gesture of opening the door. There is a noticeable absence of any exterior lock on it.

It’s my room.

I cross my arms, glaring at him.

Sin arches an eyebrow at my posturing and answers, “No idea.”

My jaw nearly hits the floor.

“What do you mean you have no idea? You can’t just keep me indefinitely!” My voice goes up an octave.

Sin takes a step away from my door, leaving me room to enter.

I don’t budge.

He leans against the wall, eyeing me up and down. His cruel smile is back when he answers, “On the contrary, mortal, I can have you at my mercy for as long as I want.”

I flush at the sexual undertone in his words and immediately hate him even more for it.

“So, I am a prisoner then.”

“Not at all. Leave the castle any time. But no one here will help you leave this realm,” he says smugly.

Well, there goes my hope of being zapped into a no-boys-allowed bookish realm.

Sad.

“What am I supposed to do while I wait for Morgana?” I grit out.

If the bad man wants to keep me here, then I am going to go out of my way to make sure it isn’t a fun experience for him.

That’s a new rule.

Sin pushes off from the wall and approaches me.

“Oh, I can think of a lot of ways to keep you busy, mortal.” His tone is laced with an undertone of dark promises.

At my sharp inhale, he smirks before making a point of walking around me, ensuring his body doesn’t touch mine.

He calls out as he walks back the way he came, “But if you need a hobby, try learning how to tie a knot.”

With that, he heads down the stairs, and I’m left standing in front of my door.

I’ve been dismissed.

I glance into my room, only to realize that he dumped my blanket rope onto the floor.

Oh, I really dislike this man.

Chapter 5

Rule five: Never ask the snake shifter about his penis(es?) – ever.

A smart person would hide in their room after being kidnapped by the enemy.

I’m not smart.

Sin mentioned no one would help me escape this realm. He might be right, but he’s made another critical error.

I don’t want to leave the realm. I just want to find a place to build a new life where there’s no chance Leon, the Council, or Sin will ever find me again. At least that way, I won’t be handed back to Leon and forced to put my own realm in danger.

But in order to achieve my witness protection status, I’m going to need more information. I’d rather not accidentally walk into another death forest.

What I need is a tour guide. Or a map. I’m not picky.

With that in mind, I leave my room and set about exploring.

Rosie seems like the ideal tour guide. She’s also the only person I’ve seen here other than Sin. So, I’m really hoping she’s willing to take me around the realm.

After walking up my hallway and not hearing a sound, I double back towards the stairs. Hopefully, the first floor is a more popular hangout.

I’m not trying to be sneaky, but my footsteps sound deafening as I make my way through the seemingly deserted castle.

Seriously, where are all the people?

I’m just about to head back toward the front door when I hear something sliding across the floor up ahead.

Houston, we have life!

Following the sound, I pass a few open rooms, including a dining room and a sitting area. Unfortunately, they’re all empty.

The sound comes again, further down the hallway, and I follow it to a half-closed door.

Quietly, I poke my head in.

The room is at least the size of one of my college classrooms, but nearly all the open space is filled with crates. They are piled high to the ceiling, all along the walls, and more are lining the center of the floor. Many of the crates are open, with weapons poking out of them. I’d assume this was a disorganized armory, but I also spot crates of books, clothes, jewelry, and little glass bottles full of colored liquids.

The sliding sound comes again, and I finally notice someone on the far end pushing a crate over to the wall.

Stepping inside, I clear my throat, and the person looks up at me. I recognize him as soon as our eyes meet. Brilliant emerald eyes lock on mine, and his concentrated expression immediately turns to delight.

Magnus. The snake shifter from the black market.

Well, I guess I know who spilled the beans about Leon being angry with me.

Men are such gossips.

“Vivian! What a delight to see you up and about,” Magnus greets, extending his arms wide.

His luscious black curls are tied behind his head, but a few strands have escaped, making him look even more devilish than usual. He makes his way toward me, and I meet him partway, skirting around the boxes.

“Hello Magnus, it’s nice to see you again,” I say, smiling warmly at him.

I’m not lying. I liked Magnus the last time I met him. He tasted my energy to try and determine my power. Even when he couldn’t figure out what I was, he still gave us information on Morgana.

Magnus clasps my hands. “You simply must forgive me, my darling enigma. I did not mean to deceive you at our first meeting. But I could not stand by and do nothing when the trigger-happy Destroyer leveled his anger at you.”

Gently, I pull my hands back, and Magnus frowns at my bandaged arm before adding, “I won’t apologize for reporting back to Morgana, but I am sorry for not finding a way to get you out of there sooner.”

At his stare, I clasp my arms behind my back, drawing attention away from the exposed skin.

“It’s really okay,” I answer before turning my attention to the rest of the room. “What’s all this?” I ask, pulling the focus away from my skin and my toxic relationship.

I think it might be better to avoid any talk of Leon or Magnus’ position as a spy. We need common ground.

Magnus smiles again, but this time, it doesn’t reach his eyes. He waves an arm around the room as he answers, “This is my warehouse. It’s where I keep the goods I trade. It’s also where I assess them for magical properties and sell them if needed. I’m just sorting through my latest acquisitions now.”

I scan the boxes, my interest fully piqued. “Can I help?”

Magic is still very new to me, and the idea of seeing magical items is alluring. I’m not distracted from my escape goal. I’m making allies.

“Of course! Though, I do ask that you not touch any items unless you ask me first. There are many cursed things here, and well, as a mortal…” he tapers off, letting me draw my own conclusions.

“No touching, got it.”

Maybe I’ll find a knife that can kill an immortal being of infinite power. That might come in handy.

Could I kill someone, though?

I swallow the thought, not ready to think too hard about it.

Magnus leads us to a table hidden behind a large stash of crates, before pulling one onto the table and emptying the contents.

“This crate is from the Seelie Fae Court. The Fae don’t typically part with treasured items, but I happened to be passing by when there was a rather distracting disturbance,” he finishes, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

I gape at him. “You stole these things?”

“Not to worry. The Seelie Court has more treasures than they know what to do with. They covet rare, beautiful items and would never part with even an earring. I hardly expect anyone will notice these items are gone, at least not for a few millennia.”

While my immediate reaction is to move away from the stolen goods, I remember that I’ve already stolen a surfboard and a boat.

I might as well add ‘laundering Fae treasure’ to my growing rap sheet as a criminal.

Everything Magnus pulls out is wrapped in fabric. Once he empties the crate, he returns it to the ground and looks back at me.

“My power gives me an advantage in this line of work. While some could try to use charms to glean what magical properties these items may hold, I can discern them by feeling the aura of power around them.”

He unwraps an item the size of my hand to reveal a beautiful comb. It looks to be made from some kind of iridescent stone. Like moonstone, only a hundred times more brilliant.

I raise a brow. “Let me guess, the comb is cursed to make the user go bald?”

Magnus hovers his hand over it before he smiles back at me. “Fae curses are rarely so blunt. They prefer to wrap their deceits into non-descript items, so the source is more difficult to track.”

He picks up the comb and holds it up to the light that streams in from a window far above us. “This comb is cursed; you’re right. It will cause infertility to anyone who uses it. Not permanently, mind you. Children are very rare in the Fae Realm, and such a curse would be punishable by extinguishing the entire family line. It only lasts so long as the person uses the comb regularly.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “So, it’s Fae birth control?”

Mental note – steal this comb if I ever have to see Leon again.

Magnus shakes his head. “Close, my little enigma. But like I said, children are rare in the Fae Realm and treasured above all else. The Fae don’t believe in contraception. Instead, I would wager that someone was having a tryst with a non-Fae and that this comb was used as a precaution.”

“But wouldn’t they want the children?” I ask, frowning.

Magnus shakes his head as he re-wraps the comb. “Full-blooded Fae are cherished. Half-breeds are considered abominations.”

I grind my teeth together at hearing that yet another realm has serious issues with their thinking.

At my expression, Magnus hurries to add, “But never you fear,” he pauses to look me up and down and winks. “I do not share their reservations about inter-species breeding.”

Right, even in the black market, Magnus was a flirt. It seems that hasn’t changed. Blushing at his implication, I focus on the next item, eager to move the conversation away from this topic. “What’s next?”

Magnus quickly moves through the other wrapped items. There are a lot of knives, a bracelet, a few forks, and a goblet. All are ornate, but most hold no magic. Although the goblet was spelled to glow if it holds poison, which sounds handy.

Finally, Magnus moves on to the last item from the box. He opens the cloth to reveal a small blue-green pendant, set on a long golden chain. My eyes fixate on the stone and how the colors shift from blue to green, as if it were alive.

“Well, that one has to be magical,” I note, smiling.

Magnus holds his hand above it before picking up the chain. His eyes flit between me and the stone. “You’re right. It is spelled, but not with a curse. The necklace holds a charm. The pendant will heat when the wearer is told a lie.”

That has my full attention. “It’s a lie detector?”

Magnus nods. “You should hold on to this one. Something tells me you are in need of more clarity in your life.”

I purse my lips. I should say no to such a precious gift – it’s too much. But at the same time, Magnus is absolutely right. I know not everyone around me is being honest, and I have no idea who to trust.

Noting my hesitation, Magnus lifts the necklace, placing it over my head. “I insist. No doubt you’re concerned about being in Morgana’s castle. And while I can assure you that you’re safe with us, hopefully, this necklace will help you to see that we are genuine in our intentions.”

The necklace sits over my oversized shirt, and I pick it up, taking a closer look at the stone.

“Thank you,” I answer, my heart warming.

“You are very welcome, little enigma,” Magnus answers before tilting his chin at the pendant. “Place it under your shirt so you can feel the heat if you are lied to.”

I do as he says, and the pendant sits between my breasts. The chain feels cool against my skin. “How will I know it’s working?”

Magnus’ eyes dance. “I find you utterly revolting.”

Instantly, the pendant starts to heat against my skin. Not warm enough to burn, but enough to be noticeable.

My cheeks heat. “Thank you, again.”

This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. If anything, my lie detector swag will go a long way in keeping me alive.

Best gift ever.

Magnus looks like he’s about to say something that will make the necklace heat up again, when a voice calls from the doorway.

“Oh, there you are,” Rosie says, looking much less anxious now that she isn’t next to the murder forest or the murder man.

I can’t say I blame her.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. I’m so happy Sin didn’t scare you into running away or hiding in your room,” she adds, skipping over to us.

I stiffen, not wanting to lie about the fact that running away is still very much on the table, but Rosie continues, saving me from having to say anything, “I’m glad you realize Sin won’t hurt you. None of us will.”

Magnus shoots a pointed look at my chest, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s tipping me off that the necklace didn’t heat. Rosie isn’t lying.

My posture relaxes a bit, relieved that at least in Rosie’s eyes, I’m perfectly safe.

“Where is our resident lord of frowns?” Magnus asks, his lip quirking up. There’s enough affection in his tone to indicate that he likes Sin.

Shocking.

Rosie shrugs. “He said he had important business to attend to. He’s gone.”

“He left?” I ask, not bothering to mask my irritation.

Of course, why would my kidnapper bother sticking around? According to him, I’m not important enough to warrant any consideration for my time.

I huff, and Rosie gives me an apologetic smile. “I wish I could say he’s gone to get Morgana, but Sin isn’t exactly forthcoming with what he does.”

Magnus cackles. “Forthcoming? I am surprised he even told you he was leaving.”

Rosie raises her eyebrows and grins mischievously as she tilts her chin at me. “Only because he asked me to keep an eye on our mortal. I have a feeling Vivian gave him a run for his money this afternoon.”

Magnus gasps. “Well now I simply must hear this story. Vivian, darling, won’t you join us for dinner?”

At his words, I remember I haven’t eaten a thing today and am starving. I shrug. “Sure, why not?”

We follow Rosie to the dining room that I walked by earlier. It’s a smaller table than the one at Leon’s castle, and the room has an intimate, warm feeling. The table has eight seats, though there are only three place settings. There are dishes piled high with meats, vegetables, bread, pitchers of water, and what I think is wine.

Rosie takes a seat and points to the chair to her right, just beside the head of the table. I take the seat, and Magnus sits in front of us.

I eye the food, trying to figure out if it’s different from the human realm. Do the other realms have chicken?

Rosie must sense my hesitation because she starts adding scoops of whatever she’s taking onto my plate as well. “Don’t worry, I’ve had mortal food before, and I promise this tastes better.”

Dinner is more fun than I expected. As Rosie promised, the food is some of the best I’ve ever tasted. The conversation stays light and friendly, and Magnus has a great time laughing at my earlier escape.

Rosie and Magnus purposefully avoid asking me anything about my being Leon’s Keeper, and instead, I get to listen to them poke fun at each other’s jobs. I learn that Rosie works in the gardens, which she’s promised to show me tomorrow, where she grows medicinal plants.

Magnus’ job is less of a mystery. He sells items in the black market but also has a gift for ‘retrieving’ difficult to obtain items. After our afternoon with the stolen Fae goods, I’m ready to assume that by ‘retrieve,’ he means ‘steal.’

Magnus tells me about snake shifters and their magical abilities. His species are rare, and Magnus’ ability to sense magical auras is even less common. Most snake shifters sense emotions.

“My species is highly empathetic,” he finishes.

I’m nursing a glass of wine, thoroughly sated, and the alcohol gives me a little bit of liquid courage to ask the question that’s been nagging at me since I first met him. “So, when you say snake shifter – do you actually turn into a snake?”

Magnus’ pupils change to slits, and he licks his lips.

My attention locks onto his tongue.

Right – a forked tongue. I almost forgot about that.

“Why don’t you come back to my room, and I can show you exactly what I can change?” Magnus answers suggestively.

I cough before answering, “No thanks, I’m good here.”

His answer brings up a biology fact I really wish I could forget.

Snakes have two penises.

Yup. I did not need to learn that in the tenth grade.

Magnus winks before adding, “Of course, my darling enigma, you must be exhausted after your adventures today.”

Rosie shakes her head, smiling, before standing. “I’ll show you the way back, Vivian.”

I stand, maybe a little too quickly, before turning back to Magnus, who is still seated, nursing his own wine glass.

“Goodnight,” I say, not meeting his eyes.

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Vivian. It was not my intent,” Magnus notes, pausing my escape. “I do find you very alluring. Your taste is not an easy one to forget. But I am honorable. I would not touch you unless you wanted me to.”

My chest loosens, and I realize I was holding my breath. “Thank you. I, uhm, I’ve…”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, darling. Goodnight, little enigma,” Magnus says.

I turn, and Rosie leads me down the hallway.

“I hope that wasn’t too unsettling. Snake shifters are very forward with their affection,” she notes, pausing at the base of a staircase, “but Magnus is harmless, I promise.”

Again, I know she is telling the truth, and I relax. Now that I know Magnus isn’t a threat, I can deal with the flirting. Conner gave me all the practice I needed.

I smile back at her. “Thank you for checking. I’m okay, really.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Do you know how to get to your room from here? These stairs go directly to the third floor, and your door is the third one. Otherwise, I’m happy to walk you up.”

“Yeah, I can make it. I appreciate your help today,” I add.

“Of course! Like I said, I think we have a lot in common, and I really hope we can become good friends,” Rosie adds, looking hopeful.

“I’d like that.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Well, I’m going to go because I know I tend to go on and on, and you look exhausted. Goodnight, Vivian!” Rosie says before twirling in the air to head down another hallway.

As I make my way up the stairs, my brain is once again without distractions. The dark thoughts are quick to creep in, each feeling like a stab to my gut.

I don’t deserve Rosie’s friendship. Neither Rosie nor Magnus has lied to me, but could I really blame them if they did? After all, I’m a liar and a murderer.

Reaching my door, I pause. Instead of going straight to my room, I eye the second door, directly in front of mine. It would probably be a good idea to know if someone is sleeping across from me. Though I assume I’m in the castle’s guest wing. That sounds like a castle-type thing to have.

Still, I’d rather be sure.

Testing the knob, I’m relieved to find it isn’t locked. It opens easily, and I’m struck by the familiar scent of woodsmoke.

Well, shit. Sin’s room is directly across from mine.

I’d say that I’m surprised, but I’m really not. I bet he’s here to ensure I don’t try anything stupid like slitting someone’s throat in their sleep.

Would slitting a Destroyer’s throat even kill them? I’m doubting it.

I should leave. This is an intrusion on his privacy.

But my heart is pounding from the thrill of being somewhere I shouldn’t be, and the reverberating beat drowns out my dark thoughts.

I’m not going anywhere.

Besides, if Sin didn’t want me to go through his room, he should have locked the door. Or, more accurately, he shouldn’t have kidnapped me.

His room is bigger than the one I’ve been given. There’s a door to my left that I assume holds a washroom. Further in, there are large windows, with a glass door that opens out to a stone balcony. Soft light from the setting sun spills into the room, adding to the ambiance.

The bed is a four poster like mine, only about twice the size. It’s also covered in a large, soft-looking blanket. I walk over and feel the material. It’s cozy and warm.

The thought has me remembering that I shredded all my blankets to make my blanket rope. I chew on my lower lip, considering whether I’m ready to commit another theft.

After the way Sin invaded my personal space today, I know he puts off a lot of body heat. There’s no way he needs this blanket. I, on the other hand, will freeze to death tonight if I don’t find new bedding.

Deciding I’m not in the mood to die, I strip the blanket off the bed, bundling it up in my arms.

I definitely don’t smell it.

That would be weird.

I’ve always liked the smell of woodsmoke, though.

Men are making me crazy.

The room is deathly quiet, making me paranoid that Sin will be back any minute and catch me in the act. While I think antagonizing him might help convince him to leave me somewhere else in the realm, I’d rather it wasn’t a deadly place. So, I hurry out of his room.

Once back in the safety of my own room, I throw my new treasure onto my bed, impressed with my handiwork.

I bet Sin won’t even notice it’s gone.

Chapter 6

Rule six: When sitting at the enemy’s table, try not to moan.

There are some things that transcend the boundaries of time and space. Unfortunately, I’ve just realized that morning people are one of those things.

The sun is just starting to peek up over the horizon when I’m awakened by someone pounding at my door. The sound is insistent, and after a few minutes, I realize they aren’t going away.

Reluctantly, I roll out of bed and rub the sleep from my eyes as I make my way over to the door – if only to make whoever it is go away.

Opening the door, I’m met with a pair of warm brown eyes that look far too excited to be awake. The man is beaming like it is Christmas morning. He’s taller than me, with short-cropped light blond hair, and his face holds a day’s growth of scruff. His frame is lean, but from the shorts and tight-fitting T-shirt he’s wearing, I can see he’s also very toned.

Another attractive man in the Shadow Realm.

Shocking.

“Good morning, sunshine!” he exclaims, and his tone immediately reminds me of Sarah, making my heart pinch a little.

“Uhm – hi?” I answer, trying to figure out who this person is. He looks familiar, and I’m certain I’ve seen him before.

“I’m Damien, sorry I haven’t introduced myself yet, but I only just got back. I’m so happy we get to keep you!” he says, bouncing on his heels.

“No one is keeping me. I’m not a toy,” I correct, narrowing my eyes at him.

His answering smile is sheepish. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. Rosie said you don’t want to go back to Leon, so, in my books, you’re family now.”

I take a step back, wary of his words. I haven’t decided to join these people. I haven’t even met Morgana.

Learning whether the proclaimed lady of the shadows is evil seems like a fair prerequisite to becoming realm-roomies.

“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” I correct.

“No problem! That just means we need to do a good job of making you feel like you should stay. Which you should. Trust me, I work for the Council. They suck,” Damien adds, still sporting his dazzling smile.

That’s when it clicks. I saw him back at the Council’s castle. He was one of the front guards when Leon and I visited. When I messed with the rude guard, Damien held the door for me and tried not to laugh at my joke.

Damien must see the recognition on my face. “There she is. I knew I left an impression.”

I clear my throat. “Sure. Uhm, so can I help you with something?”

Not to sound like I’m whining, but I’m still wearing the clothes I woke up in yesterday. I can’t remember the last time I showered. I don’t have a toothbrush, and I haven’t had coffee. I’m not feeling too social.

“Nope! I’m here to help you! We’re going for a run.”

I almost choke from trying not to laugh. “We are not.”

“Sure, we are, red. You’ve just jumped out of the Mortal Realm. There are a lot more things that want to kill you now. So, you need to start running,” Damien answers, like my possible death is as casual a topic as the weather.

When I still don’t budge, he gives me a once over before grinning conspiratorially. “How about a bribe then?”

Before I get a chance to ask what exactly he plans on bribing me with, he reaches down to the side of my door to pick up a cloth bag.

I crane my neck to see what’s inside.

I’m not above taking bribes. But for a morning run, whatever is in the bag will need to be better than a coffee and a muffin – even if the muffin is chocolate.

Damien opens the bag, finally letting me see what he’s offering. Inside are clothes and, more importantly, a pair of sneakers.

I gasp, reaching for it, but Damien pulls it back. “Say you’ll get dressed and come for a run.”

I look longingly at the bag and then back at him. “Okay, I’m in.”

“Yes! See you in five minutes, red.”

And with that, he runs down the hall, practically clicking his heels.

The run turned out to be more helpful than I expected. Damien is enthusiastic about taking me around the castle grounds and is a great tour guide.

After our first loop of the castle, I learn something of critical importance. There is no way off of the castle grounds.

You either go through the forest of the forgotten dead or scale the nearly vertical cliffs on the opposite side of the grounds, which Damien informs me drop down to a raging ocean.

I’m guessing the landscape is a security feature since Damien also mentioned that only people Morgana trusts can apparate into the castle grounds.

Which begs the question, how did I get here? But I keep the question to myself.

By the time we finally finish our run, I’m gasping for air.

Okay, maybe Damien has a point. My cardio can use some work, especially now that the odds of running for my life have dramatically increased.

We stop in a large sand arena just behind the castle.

Damien starts to stretch, and I copy his moves, grateful we’re done. His bribe contained shoes, socks, a sports bra, a crop top and fresh leggings. It feels weird to be walking out and about with so much skin exposed, but Damien hasn’t said a word about my scars. Maybe the bandage is pulling attention away from them.

“Running is the perfect way to start your mornings. I think it really sets you up to have a great day since you’ve already accomplished something.”

Damien has been keeping a steady, upbeat chatter all morning. I think he and Dr. Parnard should become best friends. Maybe they can be pen pals?

After a few minutes of stretching, Damien gives me a pat on the back that nearly knocks me over. “Great job, red. Let’s get some breakfast.”

He throws me a devilish grin before beckoning me to follow him inside.

What is happening right now?

I am in the lair of the enemy, and I’m working out and getting breakfast with them? Weirder still, I think I might actually like the company of Magnus, Rosie, and Damien. They’ve been nothing but pleasant.

Am I suffering from Stockholm syndrome?

I don’t think so. I think if I were, I’d start to love my kidnapper. And I think Sin should spend an afternoon walking on Lego.

But before my thoughts can start to spiral again at the grim reality that I’ve been kidnapped, Damien leads me into the dining room.

Rosie and Magnus are already seated, so I take my spot next to Rosie, and Damien sits beside Magnus. The table is filled with an assortment of pastries and a pitcher full of what I really hope is coffee.

“Hi, Vivian! Did you have a good run?” Rosie asks as she reaches for the pitcher and pulls it closer. The smell reaches me, confirming that the dark liquid is coffee.

Not all heroes wear capes.

“It was alright. I’m not a big runner. But Damien makes a good tour guide.” I add the second part lest Damien think I’m not thankful for his help.

He winks at me.

“Good morning, my little enigma. I’m sorry to hear you aren’t pleased about Damien’s obsession with honing muscles,” Magnus notes, lifting his cup of coffee at me in greeting.

But before I can respond, Damien interjects, “This has nothing to do with physical appearance. It’s about survival. Red won’t look nearly as delicious if she’s dead.” He levels me with an apologetic smile. “I’m going to need to up your endurance and strength.”

I slump in my seat. While I know Damien has a point, I get the sinking impression that he’s going to make the morning wake-up calls a typical occurrence.

Magnus notes my expression, which may or may not reflect that I’m pouting, before he chimes in, “Not to worry, we have something for you that is sure to make you moan.”

Do I notice how sexually charged his comment is?

Of course.

But I also notice the covert glances he, Damien and Rosie share. They’re up to something.

My cheeks heat, but I push back against my embarrassment. Sassing Conner helped me to deal with his incessant flirtation. So, instead of sinking into my chair, I take a sip of my coffee and let out a small moan. “You’re right. It did make me moan. Thanks.”

Rosie giggles, but Magnus and Damien are both looking at me like they’re hungry. Considering we’re sitting at a table full of food, I’m just going to go ahead and assume they want more pastries.

Rosie chimes in before Magnus gets another opportunity to flirt with me, “The surprise will have to wait until after breakfast. Then I’ll change your bandage.”

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a bit awkward. I’m not used to being fussed over.

“Of course!” Rosie replies, “And if you want to have stuff to do today, we’re each happy to have you tag along with us while we work.”

“Oh – but doesn’t Damien work at the Council’s castle?” I ask, confused. I will not be joining him if that’s the case.

“Guards in the lower rankings have odd rotations. We work for six weeks and then are off for two weeks. So, no work for me other than getting my hands on that body of yours,” Damien answers, wagging his eyebrows at me.

I know I’m blushing, and yet again, I remind myself that I am fully capable of handling flirts. “Thanks, but I can touch myself just fine.”

Magnus chokes on his coffee. Rosie and Damien are in stitches, laughing as Damien pounds Magnus on the back.

I sit back and take a bite out of a chocolate éclair. Chocolate makes everything better.

Once Magnus is no longer trying to inhale his caffeine, Damien embellishes, “What I mean is we’re going to start going through some self-defence.”

I purse my lips, considering his offer. I’ve always wanted to take self-defence classes. But before I can accept, Magnus interjects, “Or – she may want to join me. I have more treasures to go through today, little enigma. Would you like to learn more of the magics of the realms?”

Another tempting offer. I loved learning about the Fae Realm yesterday. And learning about more magic can only help me.

Rosie chirps beside me, “Men are so silly when they get competitive. I’m going to be making medicines today and working in the garden. Feel free to stop by any time. To visit any of us.” She gives a pointed look to the men at the last bit.

The conversation continues amiably, and from the teasing that goes on between the three of them, I can’t help but feel comfortable despite having only met the trio. It’s mainly because their dynamic reminds me so much of Sarah, Conner and Isaac.

After breakfast, Rosie tags along with me to my room to change my bandage. I follow her into my bathroom, assuming she wants some water when I notice the changes.

The mirror has been replaced, the shower now holds bottles and soaps, towels are piled high on a shelf, and there is a toothbrush in a cup by the sink.

I gape.

Rosie beams at my surprise. “I’m sorry we didn’t get you these sooner. I realized last night that you will probably be needing some extra things. So, Magnus and I raided most of the supply closets in the castle to find you everything we could. I also left some extra pants for you and a couple of shirts. We can’t leave the grounds just yet since Sin put us on a bit of a lockdown, but we wanted to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.”

I might cry.

Scratch that, I shed a tear – or ten.

Rosie squeezes my hand gently, promising that she’ll change my bandage after I’ve showered.

Once I’m alone again, I waste no time stripping. I don’t want to think about the grime coating my body. I haven’t been able to bathe since I was showering in my apartment the day after I woke Leon.

The thought has me trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. Leon was the perfect gentleman when I first woke him. He was kind and considerate. But the moment I started talking about breaking our bond, it’s like something in his head snapped, and the man I’d barely gotten to know was gone. After that, I became acquainted with his contempt, possessiveness, and rage.

A chill spreads through me, and I turn the water temperature up higher to try and burn it away.

But no amount of heat can stop the guilt that eats away at me.

I was the problem. I was the one who didn’t accept the bond, and it drove him crazy. If I had just trusted him, trusted in the Fates, things might be different. Leon might not have snapped.

My stomach starts to ache, and the dark thoughts only start to spiral faster.

I’ve never done enough, never acted fast enough. Because of me, people get hurt. First Jackson, then Leon, and soon, my friends back home, when they realize I’m missing.

I’ve always been the problem.

I feel like I might buckle under the weight of the haze that presses in on me, and I keep trying to shove the dark thoughts back into the boxes in my head where they belong.

It isn’t working.

So, instead, I hurry through the rest of my shower. Not because the water doesn’t feel heavenly but because I need another distraction to pull me out of my head.

I don’t like it in here anymore.

Chapter 7

Rule seven: Ensure the Destroyer hates you at all times.

It’s been three days since I woke up in Morgana’s castle, and contrary to my typical introvert tendencies, I’ve been doing my absolute best never to be alone. Usually, I would have books or television to disassociate from my dark thoughts, but no such luck here. So, instead, I’ve become a shadow to Rosie, Magnus and Damien.

Luckily for me, the trio have welcomed my company at every opportunity. We’ve pretty well settled into a routine. In the mornings, Damien comes to get me for a run. We do a few laps before eating breakfast with the others. After breakfast, I help Magnus sort through his magical inventory. And by help, I mean listening to all his knowledge of the other realms and the different kinds of magic. We hang out until lunch, and then Rosie and I go to the garden to gather plants for her different medicinal potions.

Later in the afternoon, Damien and I work on self-defence until we finally stop for a late dinner. I’m so exhausted from the constant socializing and exercising that I pass out the moment my head hits the pillow.

It’s been so busy that I haven’t given much thought to escaping. I’m happier here than I expected. Besides, Rosie, Magnus and Damien have been teaching me so much. It would be stupid to leave while being so unprepared. Not to mention, we haven’t seen or heard from Morgana or Sin.

According to Rosie, they can be gone for years at a time, so why should I bother leaving? I’m in good company. No one ever talks about Leon or asks me about my past. So long as those two topics are avoided, we have a grand time together. And, if all of that wasn’t already amazing enough, my necklace has never once heated around them. They’re honest with me.

Today, Damien and I are in the sand pit again as he tries to teach me how to get out of a chokehold. Try is the key word. I feel bad that he’s stuck with such a piss-poor student. I’ve tripped over his feet at least six times in the last hour, and I’m not even supposed to be moving my legs.

“Okay, red, again,” Damien demands.

He’s a tough instructor, but he’s got the patience of a saint. Also, at my insistence, Damien never flirts during training. We’ve made a game of it. If he slips up and flirts, I don’t need to run with him the following day. But if he keeps things fun and professional, I’m not allowed to whine during the morning runs.

Needless to say, I haven’t been sleeping in. I’m grateful, though. Our game has gone a long way in making me more comfortable, considering the suggestive positions we’ve been getting in.

Damien stands behind me, and his hands lightly circle my neck – just enough to know he’s there. I lift my arms and try to spin them in a windmill pattern like he’s shown me over a dozen times. But instead of hitting his arms and dislodging his hands, I accidentally slap him across the cheek.

Damien lets me go, laughing. I’m mortified.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” I exclaim, hoping I didn’t leave a mark.

Damien only laughs harder. “Alright, I think we need to back up a step. Clearly, being out of eyesight is too advanced. Though I do applaud you for landing a bitch slap.”

He pokes me in the ribs as he comes around to stand in front of me, and I squeal. Damien only smirks. “Keep your guard up, red. This one will be easier. I’m going to choke you from the front, and all you need to do is become dead weight and let yourself drop to the ground.”

I nod, relieved that this strategy requires less coordination.

Seriously, there’s a reason I don’t play sports.

Damien’s hands wrap around my neck, tighter than before. The sensation automatically sends a cold sweat down my back, and my eyes widen. But Damien only nods to the ground, indicating that I should follow his instructions.

Letting my knees give out, I gasp when, a moment later, I find myself breathing easily on the ground and out of Damien’s grasp.

“I did it!” I exclaim, jumping up.

Damien grins and pats me on the back. “See! There is a warrior in there, you –”

But his words are cut off by a ripple in the air. Sin apparates directly beside us. In typical Sin fashion, he looks livid.

Damien at least looks happy to see him. “Hey! We were wondering where you…”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Sin demands, interrupting. His hands are fisted at his sides, and I resist the urge to inch behind Damien.

No prey behavior allowed.

Damien keeps up his upbeat mood despite the mountain of a raincloud standing next to us. “I’m teaching red self-defence. We don’t want our mortal getting eaten.” He pauses to throw me a salacious grin. “At least not until she’s begging for it,” he adds with a wink.

I shake my head at him. I’m definitely getting out of running tomorrow for that one.

Sin stiffens and levels a glare at Damien. “Leave.”

Damien turns to me and gives me an apologetic look before shrugging. “See you at dinner.”

I watch him go, avoiding looking at Sin.

That only seems to piss him off more. I can see him from the corner of my eye. His arms are crossed, and his jaw is working.

When Damien is out of sight, I finally look at Sin and give him my best customer service ‘fuck you’ smile.

Seriously. The man disappears without a word for days after literally kidnapping me, and now, once again, he has the audacity to look angry with me. As if I’m the stick in the mud.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

His tattoos have a slight reddish glow, warning me that he is very upset. The sight has my adrenaline picking up, and I remind myself that Sin won’t hurt me. Rosie, Magnus and Damien have all vouched for him, swearing he and Morgana wouldn’t dream of it.

Unfortunately for Sin, that means his intimidation tactics are even less effective than they were when I first got here.

“Do you struggle with short-term memory loss? Damien just told you. He was teaching me self-defence.” I manage to sound like I’m concerned for Sin’s health.

His eye twitches.

“Why?” he asks, suspicion oozing off him in waves.

I can’t stop the incredulous look that crosses my face. Maybe Sin isn’t very smart. Maybe the more power you hold, the more it corrodes your brain cells.

It’s a solid theory.

“Because I’d very much like to not die any time soon. And I know that’s going to be more difficult now that I’m away from my own realm,” I answer honestly.

Maybe I need to try to be nicer to Sin. If I’m not actively trying to escape, then we should learn to co-exist.

Sin sneers at me, ruining my temporary good intentions. “And you think training with the boy will help you stay alive?”

I huff, “It’s a good start. And I just learned how to escape a chokehold. He’s a great teacher.”

Sin’s hand darts out so quickly that I never see it coming until it’s wrapped around my neck. He doesn’t hesitate to cut off my oxygen as he lifts me into the air, leaving me dangling by my throat.

Immediately, I start to scratch at his arms as I thrash against him. He only tightens his grip and I immediately still. Not because I’m afraid he will kill me, but because his grip around my neck is sending heat pulsing to areas that are absolutely unacceptable.

Sin’s eyes darken, and I’m mortified by the thought that he might know what his touch is doing to me. He cocks his head to the side as he considers me, before placing me back on the ground.

He lets me take a single breath before cutting off my air again.

I don’t struggle. I don’t dare move. Instead, I focus on trying not to feel the ache between my legs.

Seriously? Kind, funny and helpful Damien chokes me, and I panic. But when the toxic, dangerous man does it – I’m turned on?

My kinks are the worst. I want a refund.

“Where are your self-defence lessons now, mortal?” he hisses.

I glare at him, already realizing that going boneless will do nothing to help me get away.

In response, Sin yanks me closer so my chest is pressed against him. Luckily, any embarrassing sound I was thinking of making is cut off by lack of oxygen. His eyes watch mine. There’s a heat in them, but I think it might just be his rage.

“I know what you are,” he whispers, and my pulse picks up.

Has he found out about my ghost powers?

“You’re just another Council whore, looking for someone strong to latch onto so you don’t have to fend for yourself. I bet you were thrilled about being a Keeper. All that influence – so easily manipulated. How long did it take, I wonder, before you spread your legs for Leon? An hour? A day? And now look at you, desperate to find someone else who will save you.”

My eyes start to burn from unshed tears, infuriating me. But Sin only smirks and tightens his grip.

“You’re pathetic,” he whispers before finally releasing me.

I crumple onto the ground, gasping for breath. Sin doesn’t make a move to help me up.

“Don’t manipulate my family,” he orders before turning and walking away.

I’m caught between shame and fury.

I make a mental note to look into electroshock therapy. Maybe if I get zapped every time I get turned on from something unhealthy, I’ll finally be normal.

In the meanwhile, I need to stay as far away from Sin as possible. I don’t even care that he thinks I’m a whore. I have no intention of correcting him. Let him think the worst of me.

At least if he hates me, he’ll keep being a dick.

After the way my body responded to him choking me, I know I’m in trouble. I may never know why my brain decided that ‘Destroyers’ are its type. But regardless of the reason behind it, the attraction is there, and I refuse to breathe any life into it.

I’ve sworn off men indefinitely.

So long as Sin keeps being insufferable, I won’t have any issues. Considering the man has the personality of an infectious rash, this should be easy.

Chapter 8

Rule eight: Hit the books. Don’t throw them.

I sleep in the following day, only feeling a little guilty for not going running. Still, Damien never showed up at my door, so I assume he knows his comment broke our rule.

By the time I make my way down to the dining room, it’s vacant. The others are already off doing whatever tasks they’ve set aside for today. But rather than immediately going to find them, I pour myself a cup of coffee and decide it’s time to do more exploring. I haven’t seen much of the castle since I arrived.

Now that Sin is back, I’ve lost hope that he’d stay away for at least a few months. I can’t afford to bury my head in the sand longer than I already have.

It’s eerily quiet again as I turn down a new hallway. Floating lights like the ones in my bathroom float above ornate sconces, and their golden hues only illuminate when I approach. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but if Morgana’s castle is so well-guarded that only her most trusted friends are allowed in, then maybe she has information stashed away.

Information I am desperate for.

My thoughts immediately flash to a silly cartoon where the evil villain has schematics drawn out of their plans to take over the world. While I don’t think it will be quite that easy, maybe Morgana will have an office. Offices can have important documents.

I pause to open every door, keeping my steps casual, even as my heart races. My rule-breaking anxiety makes me want to weep at my new, reckless lifestyle. But if I want answers, then I need to get clever.

I come across another storeroom, a kitchen that looks completely unused, and a large hall that may be a ballroom. I’m starting to think that maybe I’ll have better luck on the second floor when I open another door and find a large sitting room. It looks a bit like the one next to the dining room, only instead of plush chairs in varying shades of gray, these couches are all a worn, tan leather. There are also two walls covered in floor-to-ceiling shelves that are bursting with books. While my heart jumps at the sight, my attention is drawn to the old wooden desk in front of the far wall to my right.

Bingo.

Closing the door as quietly as possible, I pad over to the desk, scanning everything on the surface. Everything looks neat, and I’m guessing whoever sits here is meticulous in keeping organized. While that description sounds like something that might fit Sin, the desk chair definitely would not. This must be Morgana’s. There are a few folded pieces of paper, a quill, some ink, and an orb that has a black swirling smoke dancing within it.

I don’t hesitate to open the first document. The paper is heavy, like thick cardstock, and the writing inside is in a neat script. Still, I’m disappointed to find it’s some kind of ledger with numbers and locations that are utterly meaningless to me.

The second document is more promising. It’s a letter, and it hasn’t been opened from the undisturbed wax seal. I swallow, steeling myself since I know what I’m about to do will cross a line.

I open it.

It’s dated the day I woke up here.

To Nightingale,

The Otherworld felt as though it shuddered today. While I cannot account for events that transpired outside of my immediate posting, I can attest that the Destroyer’s glow was bright enough to be seen even from my position across the city.

The Council doors have closed, and the courtiers dismissed. Even some Council members have taken to their home realms. No one knows what is happening.

Jester

I read the letter twice before carefully folding it and placing it back on the desk. While the writer used code names, it’s easy enough to figure out who they are. Morgana must be Nightingale, and if I had to guess, Damien is the Jester. He was still on rotation as a guard the day I was kidnapped, so he would have seen Leon’s reaction.

If Morgana didn’t open the letter, does she even know I’m here?

Shaking my head at how ludicrous this entire situation is, I move to the other side of the desk and try to pull open the drawers. They won’t budge, even though I can’t see any sign of a keyhole. I chew on my inner cheek, wondering if I should try and pry one open when the air behind me moves.

I spin, finding Sin leaning against the wall behind me, arms crossed and staring at me disapprovingly.

“I see you haven’t given up on finding creative ways to get yourself killed,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

My spine stiffens. “Why? Are you having another mood swing? Have you decided to kill me after all?”

The memory of him manhandling me yesterday is all too close to the surface. There will be no making peace with Sin.

He rolls his eyes before stepping closer to me and picking up the shadowy orb from the desk. “The desk is protected. The orb will shatter if anyone unauthorized tries to open one of the drawers. The darkness will be unleashed and will fill their lungs, suffocating them.”

The small shadows in the orb dance as if they’re sentient, and I swallow. “Something you devised, I’m sure?”

Death traps sound like something a Destroyer would be proficient in.

Sin bares his teeth at me before answering, “I don’t have the pleasure of taking credit for this. It came from a friend.”

I scoff at his mention that he has friends. From what I’ve seen, while the others seem to respect Sin, they aren’t close. I suppose having the sense of humor of an asp will do that for you.

Sin replaces the orb before taking a seat on one of the leather chairs.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I consider whether I should leave the room. Sin has no proof that I was going to go through Morgana’s desk, and if I leave now, that might only make him more suspicious.

Instead, I pace to one of the bookshelves and scan the titles. Most appear to be old historical accounts, and I pull one off the shelf, thoroughly intrigued.

“You make a terrible spy,” Sin drawls, sounding bored. He’s spinning a dagger between his fingers, and I immediately look away, reminding myself he isn’t going to kill me.

“I’m not a spy,” I answer, not bothering to add any venom to the statement, as I take my book to the couch the furthest away from Sin.

He’s welcome to think I’m a whore, but a spy is just ludicrous.

Sin tsks. “Spoken like a truly terrible spy. Of course, that’s exactly what they want. They want you desperate, meek.”

I grit my teeth, staring at the book but not seeing the words. I contemplate throwing it at his head instead.

As if sensing he’s struck a nerve, Sin continues, “It’s so easy to spot a Council whore. It’s always the pretty ones. The ones who are utterly useless, except for what you can offer between your legs. And offer it you do, for any scrap of power or information.”

Sin lounges in the chair, his posture completely at odds with the abhorrence in his words.

I have spent my life swallowing my anger and avoiding conflict. But I’m already neck-deep in conflict, and it’s not even from my own realm. I don’t bother biting my tongue.

“Are you for real with all of this?” I ask, incredulous. “You. Kidnapped. Me. I am not a spy. I’m trying to figure out why the hell I’ve been indeterminately detained by a glowstick with anger issues. So, unless you’re ready to use your big boy words and tell me why I’m here, go fuck yourself.”

Sin crosses his arms and eyes me up and down before answering, “Why would I bother fucking myself when I’m staring at an eager little whore?”

I throw the book at him.

Hitting him would have been all too satisfying, but of course, Sin catches it easily, grinning maliciously. “You’re playing a dangerous game, mortal.”

I give him the finger. I already knew there would be no reasoning with this man, and now I’m annoyed with myself for even trying.

Sin stands, dropping the book on my lap.

“Bat those eyelashes at the others all you want, but no one is going to share classified information with you,” he says before apparating out of the room.

I sit there, fuming for longer than I’d like.

Sin is an asshole and a bully. But I have years of experience dealing with bullies. I shouldn’t have engaged. I know better.

I make a mental note to ignore Sin at all possible costs the next time I see him, before turning my attention back to the book.

‘A historically accurate description of the realms and their people’ is an old leatherbound tome. It’s so cracked along the spine that it’s difficult to read the title. It was the ancient appearance that caught my attention.

I’ve already been to three realms, and Magnus told me a bit about the Fae Realm. How many more can there be?

The preface answers my question.

Long ago, the universe was divided into seven distinct realms. The Fae Realm was made for creatures with an affinity for the natural world. The Beast Realm was made for those with a feral nature who craved wildness and blood. The Angelic Realm was created for the ones who lived and ruled by light, the Shadow Realm for the broken, twisted souls that were too dangerous to carry on, the Mortal Realm for the pitifully weak mortals, and the Otherworld Realm for the powerful creatures who fit in no boxes. While it is unclear why the Underworld Realm was created, one can presume it was for creatures of darkness. All the realms were made separate, and they were unified by a ruling body composed of representatives from each space. These elected officiants were made into the first Council, and within them was one elected to rule.

While there are detailed historical records to support the founding of each realm, there are less reputable documents that whisper of an eighth. However, upon rigorous further research, this historian has concluded that the eighth realm is nothing but legend and will not dive into the world of myths. I leave such accountings to writers of fiction.

The book pulls me in, and I spend the remainder of the afternoon getting lost in the pages, reading fantastical accounts that now make up my reality. I forget to eat, and at some point, a plate appears on a table next to me, heaping with sliced fruit, vegetables, crusty bread and cheese. I have no idea how it got there, but I snack away, thankful.

Hours later I look over only to notice a steaming cup of tea on the side table.

Now strongly suspicious that the house is somehow enchanted, I whisper a quick ‘thank you’ to the silent, empty room. An enchanted house would explain the unused kitchen and the laundry that magically appears clean and folded in my room.

I like that explanation better than the alternative that someone is sneaking up on me.

By the time dinner approaches, my body unconsciously tenses, knowing I might run into Sin again. But seeing as he never joined us for dinner last night, maybe I’ll be lucky again.

A girl can dream.

Chapter 9

Rule nine: Do not trauma dump on your enemies.

To my relief, Sin isn’t at dinner.

It’s just me, Rosie, Magnus and Damien, so naturally, we are having a great time. Tonight, Magnus and Damien are getting into it, and I can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“The black market is a dangerous place. You never know when there’s a new plan to overthrow realms. My intelligence gathering is critical to ensuring we know where loyalties lie,” Magnus says. He’s arguing with Damien, but he winks at me.

Damien scoffs. “Yeah, sure, gathering intel from a bunch of thieves is fun and all. But I’m on the front lines, spying on the Council itself. It’s very risky business. Real hero work,” he adds, wagging his eyebrows at me.

It’s nothing new. They both always manage to make our meals at least a bit flirtatious. It’s entertaining, and while I think they’re both very good-looking, I don’t feel the urge to rip off their clothes.

I’m both relieved and frustrated at that thought.

Relieved because clearly, I’m only into walking cesspools of toxicity, so it’s nice to know that Magnus and Damien are good people. But I’m also annoyed with my body. If I’m going to stay in this realm forever, maybe I would like to try sex again. But if the only men I’m attracted to are horrible, then I’m going to be staying reluctantly celibate.

Sad.

I rub my chest, shoving the frustration back down. At least Sin isn’t here to act as a living beacon of my atrocious taste in men.

But wouldn’t you know, it turns out that when you think of the Devil, sometimes he actually appears.

A voice calls out behind me, and I don’t bother to turn around to see who it is.

“You do realize you’re spilling secrets to a Council agent,” Sin says in lieu of a greeting.

His eyes are narrowed at me when he makes his way to the head of the table, which is inconveniently right beside me. I give him my sweetest smile before pointedly turning away from him and focusing on the pleasant people at the table.

I’m starting to think my prisoner energy is badass.

“Awe, Sin, don’t be like that. Red probably doesn’t even know the Council is evil. You don’t want to work for bad people, do you?” Damien asks as he gives me an expectant look.

He’s right. I don’t have any intention of working for the Council. But if Morgana turns out to be an even greater danger to my realm… then I might need to make some difficult choices.

I chew on my lip, trying to figure out how to answer honestly and not make everyone at the table hate me. “I don’t have much of an agenda other than making sure my realm isn’t blown up.”

Magnus leans forward, drawing my attention. “She won’t tell on me, will you, darling? Wouldn’t you agree my head looks much better attached to my body?”

“You can’t trust a word that comes out of her mouth. She’s nothing but a warm hole for Leon to use and another mind for the Council to control,” Sin retorts.

My cheeks flush, and I remind myself that if I engage, I’ve already lost. He isn’t worth it.

I’m thinking it might be easier to just leave the table when Rosie defends me. “You know that’s not true, Sin. I’m a Keeper, and I don’t bow to the Council.”

I whirl on her, shocked. “You’re a Keeper too?”

How have I been hanging out with this woman for days and am only just learning this now?

I have terrible people skills. It’s not like I up and asked her, ‘so what supernatural agreements have you gotten into?’ Now that I think about it, we didn’t discuss much of our personal lives at all. It was easier that way. It ensured no one brought up my own issues.

I need to work on myself.

Of course, I’ve known this for years. But that doesn’t make it any less true.

“I sure am!” Rosie answers brightly. “I’m Irena’s Keeper. She’s the third Destroyer.”

I almost fall off my chair. “There are TWO Destroyers here?”

That’s it. I’ve already had to deal with enough all-powerful dark creatures for a lifetime. I know my limit, and I’m playing within it.

Rosie’s head hangs down as she answers, “I wish. The Council has Irena locked away. She’s fully warded, locked deep within their castle.”

Well, now I feel like a jerk. Rosie’s voice sounds small, and it’s easy to see she’s really torn up about being unable to get to Irena.

Rosie continues, “The Council has always put Irena back to sleep when she wasn’t on missions, and I would have to wait for them to decide when she was needed again. But then they decided Irena needed a new Keeper. They wanted someone more deeply committed to the Council.”

I frown. “But I thought the only way to stop being a Keeper is in death.”

Rosie smiles faintly. “It is. If it wasn’t for Morgana, I’d be done for. But she got me out of the Otherworld on time. I’m safe here, but it means I can’t get to Irena.”

Things are starting to make sense now. Why Rosie speaks so highly of Morgana, and why she’s sure I’ll get asylum here.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” Rosie says, giving me a small smile.

I feel it, then, a small hint of warmth in my chest. Rosie is my friend. It doesn’t matter how I ended up here. I trust her.

Magnus and Damien start exchanging funny stories of how they ended up working as spies. I reach over to put some food on my plate but am shocked to see it’s already heaping with servings.

I blink at my plate, confused. Sin is quiet beside me, his focus on the others, and I’ve been looking Rosie’s way since Sin insulted me.

An enchanted castle it is, then.

Not letting myself think more on the subject, I dig into my dinner, savoring the buttery mashed potatoes. Damien recounts a story involving a horse, two naked guards and a harrowing escape from a dragon. When he’s finished, I turn back to Rosie.

I’ve been avoiding talking about my connection to Leon, but I have a real chance to learn more about the Keeper-Destroyer bond. Given I know almost nothing about them, I think it would be wise not to squander this opportunity.

“Rosie, do you mind if I ask you some questions about being a Keeper?” I ask, hoping the topic isn’t painful for her.

“Oh gosh, not at all!” she answers. “It’s such a rare gift, and I love having the chance to meet other Keepers.”

She looks so earnest as she says it, and I can’t help but feel ashamed that I’m not feeling the same gratitude.

“Uhm, so you and Irena, what form did your bond take?” I ask, testing the waters.

Rosie smiles wistfully. “Irena and I have a lover’s bond. It’s very special. Not that the friendship bond isn’t special, too – sorry, Sin. I just mean, gaining your soulmate in a romantic sense is an incredible feeling.”

I hum, once again getting the sinking feeling that I’m the problem.

“How do you cope with the whole blind obedience thing when Irena is awake?” I ask, figuring I may as well learn how Rosie deals.

Rosie looks confused by the question, so I embellish a bit.

“Leon insists that I follow all his orders without hesitation. That it’s my duty as his Keeper to do as he says.”

At that, Rosie snorts, looking at me incredulously. Sin’s expression gives nothing away, but Magnus has less control and starts laughing.

Damien is biting his lips to keep from doing the same but saves me from further confusion. “Red, keep a close eye when Morgana gets back to see who actually calls the shots around here.”

Rosie explains further, “The entire point of a Keeper is to act as a moral compass. Otherwise, the all-powerful creatures could do whatever they wanted. It’s our job to call the shots. Not theirs.”

My shoulders drop a bit at her explanation, and I suddenly feel a lot less horrible about my decision not to release Leon.

Magnus chimes in when he finally has his laughing under control, “I wonder if the Destroyer is overcompensating again when he doesn’t get his way?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

Magnus sobers. “I’m willing to bet a small fortune that Leon has not returned your memories from your previous life. Or told you the full truth about the night you died.”

I’m momentarily taken aback by the fact that Magnus seems to know about my previous life, but then I assume it’s common knowledge since Morgana used to be part of the Council.

“I – I asked him to, but Leon said removing the block from my previous life’s memories would drive my mortal mind to insanity.” It still seems like a valid reason not to risk it.

Sin, who has been quiet until now, eyes me like he’s trying to figure me out. “Are you so weak-minded that a few memories would drive you to insanity? Mortals are getting weaker.”

He sounds disgusted.

I ignore him.

Rosie saves us from getting into a fight at the table. “I know you’ve been avoiding the topic, and I want to respect that. But I can’t help but notice that you don’t seem impressed with the Destroyer you’re looking after.”

She’s still smiling at me tentatively, so I answer her, once again trying to be careful of how I choose my words, “At the moment, I’m not very pleased. But I’m relieved to be away from the pain and the brain fog so I can finally work through it.”

Rosie frowns. “What fog and pain?”

I pause. “Oh, uhm, you know, the fog and blinding pain at the start – before you accept the bond. Or maybe you accepted it right away?”

I’m feeling stupid now. Way to let everyone know that I’m stubborn and an idiot.

Rosie places a hand on my shoulder, looking concerned. “Vivian, I didn’t accept Irena as my fated mate right away. There was some getting to know each other. But I never felt any pain or had any fog. That – that’s not normal for Keeper bonds, is it, Sin?”

Sin is frowning down at me, as per usual. “No. There’s no pain in a Keeper-Destroyer bond. It should just be an underlying pull towards the other.”

Rosie nods before turning back to me. “Can you describe your bond a bit better? If you don’t mind. Something isn’t adding up. We only want to help.”

My necklace remains cool, and I know she’s telling the truth. As much as the subject makes me want to drown in my shame, I answer, “The bond draws me to Leon; it makes me want to be very – very close to him. But it causes me a lot of physical pain if I’m too far from him or if I feel upset with him, and well… if I fight the pull to be, uhm, intimate. The fog comes if I think a little too negatively about the Council. Leon says he’s unaffected because he wholly accepts our bond. The only reason I’m in pain is because I keep fighting it.”

Magnus reads between the lines and doesn’t let me gloss over the sexual aspect of the bond. “So, it makes you want to fuck him. Otherwise, you become debilitated by pain?”

I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I stare at the table, not having the courage to look any of them in the eye after the embarrassing things I’ve just admitted to. “I’m sure it’s normal enough. I – I think maybe it’s because I’m broken,” I add in a whisper.

If you can’t spill your darkest fears in front of your enemies, then where should you be spilling them?

No one says a word.

The sound of Sin’s chair is jolting as he shoves away from the table. I look up at him, surprised. His tattoos are glowing red again, and he looks livid as he storms off without a word.

I turn to the others, confused. Rosie looks horrified, and Magnus and Damien look seriously disturbed.

Way to go, Vivian. Making things awkward for everyone with your trauma dumping.

Rosie swallows and takes a shaky breath before correcting me, “The bond between Irena and I has never caused us pain, Vivian. It just made us a bit more invested in each other’s well-being. That you are experiencing brain fog, pain, and a very strong desire to – well, let’s not mince words, fuck Leon’s brains out… That’s not a Keeper bond. It sounds…”

She swallows thickly and looks afraid. She takes a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, “I don’t think you have a natural Keeper bond. It sounds like your bond has been tampered with to be much more sinister. I think someone is trying to force you into being with Leon. And whoever it is that did the tampering, they have tried very hard to make sure you don’t realize it.”

Chapter 10

Rule ten: Do not get turned on at the thought of being his sex slave.

I think I’m going to throw up.

I excuse myself from the table, and mercifully, no one tries to stop me. My head is spinning, and I don’t know how to stop it. The castle walls feel like they’re starting to close in on me.

I can’t breathe again. This panic attack is coming on with a vengeance. I don’t think I’m going to make it to my room.

The large double doors that lead outside the castle are a few steps away. Numbly, I push one open and walk out into the brisk night air. The grass is cool beneath my feet, and I start walking into the night. I have no direction in mind other than, ‘Don’t go towards the murder forest.’

The breeze pushes my hair from my face, and I use the wind to try and force more air into my lungs.

Breathe, Vivian.

Just fucking breathe.

It’s not that hard. And quite frankly, it’s really shitty of my body to decide that breathing is not for me when I’m feeling overwhelmed. It’s right up there with fear paralysis in terms of lousy responses to danger.

I follow the stone path that leads around the side of the castle. There’s a rock wall parallel to it, and my fingers trail along the smooth stonework. The sensation helps to ground me. The path splits into two directions up ahead. One leads to a stairway leading up to a balcony on the second floor, whereas the other leads to Rosie’s garden. Small twinkle lights flicker between plants, giving the garden a magical ambience.

I take a hard left, steering well away from the greenery. Even though I’ve helped Rosie with her plants a few times now, gardens still remind me of the maze at the Council’s castle. Mazes remind me of Leon, and what we did in there.

My stomach cramps.

Every intimate moment with Leon, was it all just the product of a corrupted bond?

Did he know? How could he not if he’d already had other Keepers before me?

Leon’s words haunt me… I never had a choice.

The depressive haze starts to press around me as I make my way up the steps. I focus on shoving that train of thought deep down with the other emotions I’m not dealing with. But the box feels more fragile than it used to be. Like I’m repressing too much, and it’s starting to burst at the seams.

That thought is terrifying.

The steps curve around the castle wall and open to a large semicircle stone balcony. It looks over the sand arena where Damien and I have been training. There are open doors, with translucent white curtains billowing in the small breeze. I can’t make out many details, despite the dim lamps floating along the walls. The place has a shadowy but cozy atmosphere.

I love it.

This is the Shadow Realm vibe I expected to find here. And the part of me that swoons at cozy things is completely here for it. It’s almost perfect, save for the large, imposing, warrior-looking man leaning on the balcony, staring out into the darkness.

I suppose I could pretend Sin is a gargoyle. That would fit the aesthetic. And honestly, I think Sin would make the perfect gargoyle.

I debate whether I should turn around and hope he doesn’t notice me when Sin calls out, “Were you going to stare at me all night?”

He sounds annoyed. Maybe I’m intruding on his me time.

With that thought, I make my way over to stand beside him. Kidnappers don’t get me time. They get annoyed by their prisoners.

“So,” I start, “you left the table in a hurry.”

“It was better that way,” he answers.

I pause, waiting to see if he’ll continue. Of course, he doesn’t.

I chew on my lower lip as I consider how far I’m willing to push this man. For the first time, there’s no malice in how he speaks to me. He sounds… tired. I decide to risk my neck.

“Why is it better that way?” I press.

Sin stands silently, not acknowledging my question. But his body has gone rigid like he’s very uncomfortable with my asking.

I try to lighten the mood in hopes it will get him talking. Maybe Sin is finally ready to be pleasant.

“I just talked about being controlled by a corrupted sex bond in front of a table full of near-strangers that may or may not be my enemy,” I note, keeping my eyes on the darkness beyond. “Not that you owe me anything, but it would be pretty great if you didn’t shut me out. It’s just fueling my inner monologue that you’re biding your time so you can torture and kill me slowly.”

Sin lets out a blistering sigh, and I’m sure all I’ve succeeded in is annoying him.

“I have no plans to kill you, mortal,” he answers.

“Torture?”

“Only if you really annoy me,” he answers gruffly.

I grin. I’m ninety-six percent sure Sin just cracked a joke.

Hell must have frozen over.

“What about mind controlling me into betraying Leon and the Council and turning me into your own personal slave?” I ask, holding my breath for his answer.

This question is one I’ve been internally freaking out over. Sin is known as a puppet master. So how do I know I’m using my own free will while I’m here?

Goosebumps erupt on my arms.

Sin’s hands tighten against the railing before he turns to me. I face him and clutch my hands in front of me, hoping he can’t see them shaking. Our eyes meet, and I swallow.

“I could,” Sin answers darkly. “If there’s a part of you that thinks you might like that idea, I can amplify that desire until it’s all you think about.”

He steps forward as he continues, his head cocking to one side and his eyes roaming over me, “Any hint of a dark desire you’ve ever had, any intrusive thought, I can exploit. If there’s a part of you that wants to be on your knees for me, I can make you do it.”

He’s so close that I’m enveloped by his heat, and my cheeks burn at his mention of my being on my knees. Sin takes in my flustered expression. His gaze grows heated before hardening again and turning to disgust.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your entire purpose in life is to act as a whore for the Council. That’s the destiny written out for you. I wouldn’t touch you, even if my life depended on it.”

His words have the effect of drenching me with a cold bucket of water. My necklace warms, but there’s no telling which statement it was reacting to. I step away from him.

Sin is not a good man.

“So how can I know you won’t just puppet me any way you see fit?”

Sin crosses his arms and leans against the balcony. “You don’t.”

I bite my inner cheek to stop the sliver of rage that slips through my boxes. “How is that supposed to help me sleep at night?”

Sin sighs again, reminding me that I’m annoying him. “It isn’t. You’re in a castle full of powerful creatures. We all have the power to hurt you in one way or another, just like we have the power to hurt each other. We sleep because we know where our loyalties lie. We know our allies. We don’t need to control each other to do that.”

I mull over his words, feeling worse than I did when I came up here. Not because of what Sin is saying but because of what he doesn’t need to say. I’m the opposite of everything he’s described. I have no loyalties or allies, and I’m outright controlling Leon by refusing to release him. The guilt gnaws at me.

“Do you think I’m wrong by keeping Leon in his collar?” It’s a stupid question to ask someone who was collared and enslaved by the Council, but I need to know.

Am I the villain in my own story?

Sin cracks a knuckle, and his expression darkens.

“In all the time I was enslaved by the Council, I never wanted to do the work they asked of me. I engineered the fall of civilizations by whispering treasonous or greedy thoughts into the minds of others. But I never willingly hurt innocents. Leon, he’s not like that.” He pauses before muttering, “I don’t think you made a bad choice.”

I frown, remembering Magnus joking about Leon at dinner. “What did Magnus mean about Leon overcompensating when he doesn’t get his way? And what does that have to do with my memories?” I ask.

Sin hedges my question, “Do you have any knowledge, any at all, about your history with Leon?”

I nod. “Leon said we were lovers and that when he saw me die, his collar fell off, and he killed the invaders that were taking over Atlantis.”

Sin eyes me warily, like he’s unsure whether he should say anything more.

“What am I missing?” I ask. I feel like this is a crucial piece of the puzzle that I need to try and piece together what is happening between me and Leon.

“Leon didn’t just kill the invaders. He sank the entire civilization and the surrounding nations into the sea. He drowned the entire coastline.”

For the second time tonight, I want to throw up. The blood drains from my face at Sin’s words. Leon murdered thousands, willingly, when he saw me die.

An involuntary shudder wracks through me as a thought enters my mind.

What will Leon do to get me back now?

Despair digs its claws into me again, and I know another panic attack is on the horizon if I don’t get myself under control.

Sin eyes me warily like he’s expecting me to fall apart.

I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Focus on what you can control, Vivian.

It might not be the most profound technique for calming down, but I’m working with what I’ve got. And I’ve still got my head.

Leon is a problem. I can solve problems. And not in an ‘I can fix him, he’s just damaged’ kind of way.

Sin and I stand in silence after his reveal of Leon’s atrocity. Neither of us is feeling chatty. I’m annoyed. It feels like everyone around me always knows so much more about my circumstances than I do. And I don’t think I can effectively outwit them if I don’t have all the information.

How do you outsmart people who have been alive for thousands of years when you’ve only been around for less than three decades?

I pause at that thought, mulling it over, remembering Sin’s words at the dinner table. There might be a way to gain at least a bit more insight.

“Are there many ways someone can go about getting their memories back from a previous life?” I ask, trying to sound only vaguely interested.

Sin shrugs. “It’s not brain surgery. You would need someone to open a gate in your mind. The one that holds the memories locked in your soul.”

I hum. “Are there many people who can do that?”

Sin turns to me, arching an eyebrow. He still manages to look irritated while he does it. “If you want your memories restored, I can do it, mortal.”

My pulse picks up at the thought of him going anywhere near me with his Destroyer powers. If Sin goes digging around in my head, he might see the secrets I’m keeping. It’s a big risk.

“I’ve gathered that. I’m asking if there’s someone else here who can do it,” I clarify.

Sin bares his teeth. “Don’t want me in your head, mortal?”

“Not particularly,” I answer honestly.

“If I wanted to go digging around in your memories, I could do it any time without you ever realizing it.”

My stomach drops. “Why – why don’t you?”

He arches an eyebrow. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

I shake my head softly. “You haven’t.”

If Sin knew I freed two creatures from his realm, or if he knew I blasted Leon into a wall… I shudder to think how quickly my existence would be terminated. But he’s back to looking suspicious, so I bluff, “The way you reacted tonight when you learned about the corrupted bond. If you’d been digging in my head, you’d already have known.”

Sin’s jaw works like he’s deciding whether to believe me until he finally turns away again. “It’s a last resort. I know all too well what it’s like to have your free will ripped away. Unless I think you’re a serious threat, your thoughts are your own.”

He grumbles his answer like he’s loath to admit such an honorable thing.

I get it. It really reflects poorly on his villain-cred.

Still, it’s enough to ease my fear of him being in my head – until another thought has me snapping up ramrod straight. “Would I still be me? Or would I become her – Cassandra?”

Oh god, what if I lose myself and become content to serve as Leon’s obedient Keeper? What if I let him blow up my realm?

Sin shrugs. “Your own consciousness is tied to this body. It’s very unlikely that you’ll lose yourself. But you’d have Cassandra’s memories within reach, just like your own.”

I swallow. “Unlikely isn’t a guarantee.”

I don’t consider myself a big gambler. The rural Atlantic Coast didn’t have anything in the way of casinos, and I was way too frugal to buy scratch tickets.

Sin pushes off the balcony. “It isn’t. The choice is yours. But…”

I wait for a breath for him to continue. He doesn’t. “But what?”

He appraises me like he’s trying to decide if I’m worth the effort of embellishing. “Cassandra was a warrior. As you are now, your only value is in the bond between you and Leon. You’re weak and dependent on whoever can offer you protection. Like this, you’ll never know freedom. You don’t have years to train. But with her memories, you might not need them. You might become something more than the destiny the Council chose for you.”

Sin’s words are blunt, but I can’t deny there’s truth to them. My hands shake, and I tuck them under my arms, hugging myself.

I don’t want to be weak.

I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

“Okay,” I answer. “Let’s do this.”

Sin nods. “Your room. You’ll probably black out,” he notes as he heads back to the castle.

I follow him, trying not to think too hard about what I’m about to do. This is just another adrenaline-inducing activity.

It’s totally fine. My hands have always felt this clammy.

Sin leads us upstairs to our shared hallway and opens my door. But instead of heading in right away, he stills, his expression darkening. The look is gone almost instantly, though, and we head inside.

I frown at his micro evil villain expression but shrug it off. The guy seems to have a lot of people issues. And really, I’m not going to judge, because same.

Sin pauses next to my bed, his gaze locked on something. It takes me a second to realize what he’s staring at.

The blanket. His blanket, that I borrowed (stole).

“Erm, so how should we do this?” I ask, trying to distract him from my mad thieving skills.

I’m about to let the guy I robbed mess around with my head. This is a new level of stupid, even for me.

Am I going to let that realization stop me?

Of course not.

“Lay down on the bed,” Sin orders.

Do NOT blush, do NOT blush, do NOT blush.

I repeat the mantra as I skirt around him and lay on my back. Sin looks like an angry god looming over me.

“So, what now?” I ask in a way that I really hope conveys no sexual innuendo.

I didn’t think my smut addiction would ever come back to bite me in the ass. But now that I’m having many more close encounters with dark, brooding men, everything has become an opportunity to think about sex.

I have no regrets.

Sin pulls the chair next to the bed and sits so he’s next to the headboard. I prefer him sitting. He almost looks relaxed this way – if I scrunch my eyes just right.

He leans forward, and his face is only inches from mine. The smell of woodsmoke is almost overpowering now, with him and his blanket this close. I purse my lips, waiting for him to do something.

“I’ll start breaking the barrier down slowly. So that your memories don’t flood your brain all at once. I’m going to put you to sleep to make it easier for your subconscious to process the information.”

My heart rate picks up at the thought of being asleep with Sin here. But the panic ebbs when I remember that I was unconscious when he first brought me here, and he didn’t try anything. Besides, the man is clearly disgusted with my existence.

Sin leans in closer, his hands settling on either side of my head. His lips are so close to mine, it would take less than a flinch, and we’d be kissing.

Don’t think about it, Vivian.

Sin’s voice comes as a low growl, “And mortal, the next time you enter my room, you’d better be prepared not to leave it again until I’m finished with you.”

I only have a chance to gasp before his voice comes again.

“Sleep.”

And then the darkness takes hold of me.

Chapter 11

Rule eleven: Repress, repress, repress.

When I wake, I’m relieved to find there isn’t another person in my head, trying to co-lease my body. Instead, it’s still just my own depressed inner voice, reminding me that this wasn’t all just a dream and my life is still a dumpster fire.

At this point, I think I am well beyond trying not to fall off the depression wagon. After learning about my corrupted bond with Leon, the wagon has exploded, and I’m in free fall.

I hate to think of what will happen when I hit the ground.

Being pulled into a new fantasy world has done terrible things for my mental health.

I stretch, wincing at the full-body pain. Between daring escape attempts and training with Damien, my physical health isn’t thriving either.

As for emotional health… I’m not even going there.

It’s another bright and sunny day in the Shadow Realm, and I’m officially calling the realm’s name out on false advertising. Even without Damien coming to collect me for our morning run – again, I didn’t sleep in too late. The rays shine directly onto my pillow.

Sweat coats my body, letting me know I had a fitful sleep. I feel gross. But at least Sin left my room at some point. I’ll take that as a win.

Hobbling out of bed, I beeline for the washroom. I will never take hot water for granted again. The water hits me, and I let out a moan of pure ecstasy before closing my eyes to relax under the spray.

In theory, relaxing in the shower seems like a reasonable expectation. It would be great if my brain could let me have such luxuries. But of course, as soon as my eyes close, I get assaulted by flashbacks from Cassandra’s life.

I’m only a few summers old when a man visits the Moon Goddess temple. He takes me away to join the Guardians, a secret religious organization. I don’t want to go. He doesn’t care.

A bright flash and I’m older, running through a forest. My feet are bare, and I’m covered in bruises. Men are chasing us. If we are caught, we are killed. They weed out the weak, so I must be strong. I haven’t slept in two days.

Another flash, and I’m a teenager. Older men writhe against me, using me. Desensitizing me to sex so I can use my body to accomplish my missions.

A final flash, and I’m standing in a grand hall with a handful of other young adults. We are the survivors. We are lethal weapons, broken and rebuilt to serve the gods. We are walking death. The old men in the crowd applaud us like they are proud of the monsters they’ve created.

I gasp when I come out of the flashbacks and find myself crumpled up on the shower floor, heaving for air. My head is pounding, and I can already feel a lump starting just above my left ear.

Silver lining, I did not die from falling in the shower. Wouldn’t that just be a poetic death, though? Chased by an immortal ex-boyfriend with control issues and then killed by the violent return of his ex-girlfriend’s memories.

But the distraction of a head injury (I’m starting a collection) isn’t long-lived enough for me to ignore what I just saw. My heart aches for Cassandra. For everything she survived.

I guess neither of us had or is having a particularly easy life. Maybe there’s a god that’s angry with our soul. Maybe they are ensuring it’s caught in an endless loop of suffering.

I knew I wasn’t their favorite.

Pulling myself back up, I try to focus on getting clean. Getting hit by Cassandra’s memories was jarring. I need to find a way to control them, so that they aren’t playing on loop in my head. Otherwise, the mental trauma merry-go-round is going to drive me to insanity.

Resorting to old faithful, I shove her memories into the boxes in my head reserved for my own trauma. Cassandra’s memories are going to fit in great.

When I leave the washroom, I’m taken aback when I notice a pile of stuff on my bed.

Someone was in here when I was showering. My door is still locked.

Creepy.

I’m going to tell myself it was Rosie.

Lying to myself is a new hobby of mine.

Warily, I pad over to the bed and examine the new additions. There are two small swords, a dagger, at least a dozen throwing knives, and a sheath that fits both swords in an ‘x’ across my back. There’s another sheath that looks like it might fit over my thigh. There are also some new clothes – fighting leathers, along with a pair of boots, tucked neatly under the bed.

My fingers trace along the sharp edge of a blade, and I’m struck by the instant recognition. These all look like things Cassandra once wore while working missions for the Guardians. Short flashes pulse through my mind again, showing me how she worked as an assassin.

I remain upright this time and count that as a win.

I swallow down my unease at the thought that my soul was once a trained killer. This is a judgement-free zone. Cassandra might be dead, but the least I can do is not shame her for doing what she needed to survive.

I figure the outfit is better than the leggings and tank tops I’ve been wearing for a few days. Especially when there are psychopaths out there who like to go around harassing their kidnap victims.

Getting dressed, I’m struck by the realization that I never once hesitated when adjusting the fighting gear. It’s like my subconscious brain is tapping into Cassandra’s memories.

That is promising.

I thought it would feel weird to be decked out in weapons, but instead, it’s comforting. It feels good to be holding blades. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel completely defenseless.

That thought is enough to arm me with a new ‘fight the supernatural bad guys or die trying attitude.’

Am I sure who the bad guys are anymore?

No.

I’m still leaning towards the ‘everyone is evil, and please leave me and my realm alone’ school of thought.

Except Leon isn’t going to leave me alone. If Damien’s letter is any indication, Leon was livid about losing me, and now I have an idea of what he’s capable of when he’s in that headspace.

My stomach twists. I need to know more about my past relationship with Leon to learn if there is something I can use to change his mind.

This time, I have the foresight to sit on my bed before I close my eyes and try to bring up Cassandra’s memories of Leon. I’m not sure if this is like selecting a chapter from a table of contents or if I need to start digging, but before I can overthink this process to the absolute maximum, I’m hit with more memories.

The Guardians must be stopped. I realized their true monstrous nature when I found a group of teachers trying to sexually assault a child. I knew it was a common occurrence, but I couldn’t stand by. I murdered them and took the child. Her name is Arianna.

We fled to my home temple in Atlantis, but I knew I couldn’t stay hidden while other children suffered at their hands. It’s been years since I turned against the organization, and I’ve been hunting Guardians ever since. I save every child I find, bringing them here and promising revenge.

It’s been more difficult as of late, to find the Guardian’s secret strongholds. I’m certain there is more information hidden away in the archives of the Sun God temple. The temple is in Atlantis, but it’s heavily guarded. I can’t risk killing my way in, lest it’s traced back to my own temple.

Things only become more complicated when a man finds me outside a secret entrance to Atlantis. He has wavy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He introduces himself as Leon and wants to know what I’m doing in his forest.

I was just disposing of a Guardian corpse – he’s buried deep in the woods – but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I excuse myself, saying I came here to pick flowers.

Leon wants to know my name. I don’t give it to him, and I hurry back to the Moon Goddess temple.

Leon becomes a problem.

He doesn’t give up on getting to know me. He starts walking with me every time I leave the temple. I play sweet priestess, but I can’t afford to have someone watching me closely.

I’m debating whether I’ll need to kill him when he reveals he is a divine creature, a Creator. He also tells me he lives at the Sun God temple.

I see my opportunity.

I let Leon grow closer to me, pretending to be meek and nonthreatening. And despite all efforts to the contrary, my heart softens towards him. But I’m too far gone with this disguise to give him the truth.

Leon is a creature of light and creation. I am death and darkness.

My soul is void.

Leon lets me into the Sun God temple, letting me peruse their archives without question. I find the locations of more potential Guardian strongholds.

I know I should kill Leon. He could lead the Guardians right back to me. It’s the smart thing to do, and yet – I can’t. Instead, I let him touch me. In the shadowed recesses of the Sun God archives, I let him worship my body.

I love him.

It’s only a few nights later that he breaks my heart.

Atlantis is falling. Leon refuses to help us and wants me to abandon my sisters. I’m sickened by his cowardice.

There’s a secret passage off the temple mountain that only Arianna and I know of. I stay outside the temple doors, hoping to buy her enough time to get everyone out. There are boats hidden on the coast. I need them well away.

My dying thought is that I hope I bought them enough time.

Chapter 12

Rule twelve: Do not stab your murderer at breakfast.

I thought the relationship between Leon and I was messy, but it has nothing on what was between him and Cassandra.

Leon is completely convinced that we shared a great love when really, he never loved Cassandra. How could he when she never truly let him know her?

Leon loved a lie.

The thought hits me with an unwelcome pang of guilt. Leon loved someone who never existed for millennia. And here I am, running from him, hurting him even more.

What does that make me?

The question is enough to have me hustling out of my room in search of other people. My thoughts are dangerous.

It’s late morning, but Magnus and Sin are still having coffee at the table. Magnus eyes me appreciatively before whistling and asking, “Is it true then? Is Sin spreading falsehoods, or has the mighty warrior priestess, who hides amongst pacifists, returned?”

I’m still feeling raw from Cassandra’s memories and the dark thoughts that followed them. It isn’t something I’m keen on discussing yet, so instead, I give Magnus a slight nod before pouring myself a cup of coffee.

It’s still hot. I am at peace.

Magnus wants to disturb my peace. “You know, despite your extensive training, I’m still impressed you were able to kill so many soldiers under Sin’s command, the night Atlantis fell.”

My eyes snap to Sin, a coil of rage escaping the box of repressed emotions. “You. You came for Atlantis.”

It isn’t a question. It’s an accusation.

Cassandra’s memories flash back to the surface. She loved Atlantis – cherished it. And she lost everything the night it fell. While her emotions might not be my own, they don’t leave me unfeeling, either. Instead, a flare of protectiveness sparks within me.

Sin has the audacity to lean back and look bored. There isn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice when he answers, “I did a lot of things when I was the Council’s attack dog.”

Magnus must be on a mission to stir things up because he chimes in, “Don’t be so closed off, Sin.” He turns back to me and adds, “It has always driven him mad that a single priestess was able to take out hundreds of his men.”

I glare at Sin, realizing he is likely responsible for killing me. My mind drifts to the kids at the Moon Goddess temple, and my heart hurts. They’ve been dead for millennia, but I mourn them, hoping I bought them enough time to escape.

Sin quirks an eyebrow at me.

A strange urge has my hand itching to move to one of my blades.

It’s a surreal feeling. Something tells me that if I wanted to hurt this man, I might have a chance. And in my present emotional state, I’m less frightened of the consequences.

What’s the worst that will happen – he kills me?

Been there, done that.

It’s a dangerous combination: the violence of Cassandra’s memories, paired with the despair that keeps overtaking my thoughts.

I fold my hands on my lap instead.

Sin smirks like he knows what I was about to do.

Jerk.

Magnus keeps prodding. He leans forward on the table, resting his head on his fists. “So, little enigma, now that you have all your memories back, have you decided whether you’ll be staying on with us? In lieu of returning to your fated beau.”

I focus on my coffee and the buttered pastry that appeared on my plate at some point. “I haven’t decided,” I mutter as I dig into my breakfast.

Magnus asks me the same question every morning. And every morning, I give him the same answer. Usually, I say I’m undecided because I want to meet Morgana first. But today, there’s a new reason pulling me away.

I’ve already spent one life deceiving Leon, and now I’ve kept secrets from him in this life as well. The guilt digs deeper, bringing back the broken voice in my head that reminds me that this is all my fault.

Sin slams his cup down, and it startles me out of my spiral. I can feel his eyes boring into me, but I refuse to look at him. I’m still mad at him for attacking Atlantis and for him probably killing me in a past life.

If I’m going to hold a grudge, I one hundred percent think those are valid reasons.

Magnus refuses to let it go. “Interesting. I was convinced you would lose your good opinion of Leon when you realized how temperamental he can truly be.”

“It’s not that simple. I’m not innocent in this. And Leon, well he deserves to know the truth. I owe him that much,” I answer.

Maybe, if I can convince Leon of the truth, that he never even knew Cassandra, he’ll see sense and let me go.

Magnus opens his mouth to say something, but Sin cuts him off, “Magnus, let it go. She’s useless. She’s too comfortable being a pampered princess and will go crawling back to her fated the first chance she gets. A nice, easy, violence-free life is what the warm hole needs.”

I don’t think. I react. I reach for a throwing knife, and the next moment, it’s lodged in Sin’s chair, millimeters from his neck.

My heart hammers in my chest as I realize what I’ve just done. Throwing a book is one thing, but a knife? I’ve just crossed a very big line. My eyes widen and before I can think of something to say, Sin has the audacity to smile at me.

Not a cruel smile. But a genuine one that is filled with dark promises.

I gape at him.

Magnus lets out a long whistle and notes, “Well, it’s good to have you here.”

I don’t dare take my eyes off Sin, expecting his tattoos to light up and for him to annihilate me for threatening him. But he looks calmer than I think I’ve ever seen him before.

Maybe he’s having a stroke?

I open my mouth to apologize when he interrupts me, “Don’t. You’ve finally done something to defend yourself. Celebrate the victory, mortal.”

I frown, trying to process his words. “How – how can you be so calm? I could have killed you.”

The corner of Sin’s mouth twitches like he might laugh. “It will take far more than a blade to kill me.”

He stands, handing the blade back to me. I take it, careful not to let our fingers touch. I’m still reeling over what I just did.

“Your memories will help you survive, but your body is weak and hasn’t been conditioned to fighting. You need to train,” Sin orders as he steps back.

“Are you prone to memory loss in your old age? Because just two days ago, you crashed Damien’s training session. He’s already on it,” I answer dismissively, hoping to put a stop to whatever renewed interest he has in my life.

“Not today,” Sin answers. “Today, you’re with me. Finish your food and meet me in the courtyard,” he adds before leaving.

I swear he sounded almost happy. What alternate universe have I landed in?

The joyful feeling must be in the air because Magnus springs up, looking like he might start jumping up and down from excitement.

“I’m going to fetch Damien and Rosie; they won’t want to miss this!” he practically squeals as he darts out of the room.

And just like that, it’s only me, my coffee, and a half-finished buttered pastry.

I savor the peace, having a strong feeling that this training session is going to suck.

Chapter 13

Rule thirteen: Do not break the box holding the repressed trauma.

I am so unbelievably screwed.

There are a multitude of reasons as to why I shouldn’t enter the fighting ring with Sin right now. First, we hate each other, so letting Sin be in a position where he can hurt me seems like an unhealthy choice. Second, I threw a knife at him this morning, and he smiled at me, which just seems really unhinged of him. Third, my traitorous vagina finds this man attractive, and given the state I’ve just found Sin in, I don’t think physical contact is a good idea.

He’s waiting for me in the center of the sand area, with his arms crossed over his bare chest. I don’t stare at his defined abs or the other muscles that are just – everywhere. His hair is tied behind his head, and he’s in black fighting pants similar to the ones I’m wearing.

I’m considering whether I can tactfully ask him to put a shirt on when I’m distracted by cheers and shouts.

“Wooo! Go, Vivian!” Rosie shouts.

“Humble the big bad Destroyer,” Magnus joins in.

All three of my pleasant Shadow Realm companions are leaning on the balcony railing above us.

I guess we have an audience. My cheeks heat.

I have no idea what I’m doing. The embarrassment that is about to go down will be monumental.

Damien only winks before calling out, “We’ve all placed bets on who will come out of this on top. Don’t get me wrong, I love the getup,” he pauses to indicate at my outfit, “but my money is on the big guy.”

I smile back weakly. “I think you’ve made a good call.”

He’s trained with me before. He knows precisely how pathetic I am.

Magnus’ hand flies to his chest like I’ve just gravely wounded him. “Darling, I have twenty gold pieces on you. Do not speak in such a way, my beautiful, deadly creature.”

Sin’s voice rings out sharp and angry, “Enough. Mortal, I don’t have all day. Get in the ring.”

My attention flies back to Sin. He doesn’t have any weapons on, so I pause at the edge of the ring to take off my own.

“Keep your weapons, mortal. You’re going to need them.” Again, more dark promises linger in his tone.

My brow furrows. “But you don’t have any. I don’t want to accidentally stab you. I…”

Sin cuts in, “You’re more than welcome to stab me if you get the chance. I assure you, you’ll cause no lasting damage.”

I swallow thickly. “Okay. So, what do we do to train?”

Sin grins, showing his teeth. The effect is menacing. “Draw blood from me, mortal.”

“I – I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The awkwardness of this situation starts to sink in fully. Damien at least walked me through different moves and tried to teach me how to use them. As cool as it was to throw a blade at Sin over breakfast, my palms are starting to sweat at the thought of fighting him. I threw the blade on instinct. I’m not a fighter.

Sin quirks an eyebrow. “Afraid, mortal?” His tone is mocking.

My cheeks heat. “No.”

Yes. Yes, I’m definitely afraid. I’m probably going to accidentally stab myself.

“I just don’t –” I pause, trying to find the right words. “I’m not a fighter,” I finish lamely.

“Is that right?” Sin asks, his voice low and deadly.

I shiver at his tone. Whatever happens next is going to suck for me.

“So, you prefer to remain an object for the Council – useful only as a toy for Leon?” His words bite into me, and I flinch.

But he’s only getting started.

Sin flicks his fingers at me, and less than a second later, a wave of energy crashes into me. I double over from the force of the impact, but there isn’t any pain. Instead, I gasp as molten heat courses through me, lighting up every one of my nerve endings. My body starts to flush, and I fight the impulse to clench my thighs together.

Even as the wave passes and I manage to stand upright again, I’m suddenly all too aware of the feeling of my clothes rubbing against my body.

Sin is watching me, looking mildly annoyed.

“What – what did you just do?” I ask, my voice coming out breathless.

“Since you seem to be so at ease with other people controlling your desires, this should feel all too comfortable for you,” he answers, flicking his fingers at me again.

Another wave of heat, and my nipples harden against my shirt. Even as I concentrate on trying to stop whatever is coursing through my body, I feel the warmth pulsing against my core.

Lust.

Sin is controlling my emotions, and he’s hitting me with waves of lust.

“Stop it,” I tell him, my own voice sounding small.

Sin hits me with yet another wave in response, stronger than the last.

“Stop, please,” my voice breaks as my body betrays me. The sensation is eerily similar to when the bond flared up and made me burn for Leon.

Panic edges into my consciousness.

“Why?” Sin asks petulantly. “Isn’t this what you want – to be used as a Council whore? How many times did you show reluctance to Leon, only to have magic twist you into having him inside of you?”

Shame wells up, and my throat hurts from holding back tears. “Mind your own fucking business.”

Instead, he hits me with another wave of lust, and my legs give out. I fall to my knees, trying to breathe through the heat. Every piece of me burns like I might combust if I’m not touched.

It’s happening again.

I have no control. My choices are being taken away.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please stop.”

Sin shows no mercy and hits me again with the lust energy. “No one is coming to save you. In this world, your boundaries are useless if you can’t enforce them.”

My body burns with desire. It won’t take much more before I break. Again.

“No more,” I beg.

“Not good enough, mortal. You want to crawl back to someone who used you, who embraces a bond that clearly violates your free will. I’m saving you the trouble.”

Another hit of lust, and I collapse, moaning against the sand.

Sin stands only a few feet away, towering over me. “Now be a good little whore and crawl to me,” he spits out.

Trembles wrack through my body, and sand sticks to my face where my tears fall freely. Every part of me wants to listen, to do what he asks if it will make the burning go away.

My eyes close, and despair floods me as I feel my free will breaking yet again.

He wants me to crawl. The thought comes as an echoing whisper from the angry voice I locked inside me so long ago.

Memories flash before my eyes. Of Cassandra crawling, broken and bloodied after her teachers had their way with her again. Of me crawling in a forest after my classmates tried to kill me. And then of me crawling out of Leon’s castle after he tried to use my body to get what he wanted.

My fists dig into the sand.

They broke me. Every last one of them took what they wanted. They violated me for their own purposes.

The box of repressed emotions in my head turns to dust, and my eyes open.

I say nothing as I slowly pull myself up, ignoring the heat that pulses through me. My legs shake, but I barely feel them. The others on the balcony have been yelling at Sin to ease off, but they’re silent now as if holding their breaths, waiting to see what I’ll do.

Sin watches me expectantly. I can vaguely feel the earth shivering under me, and small stones start to fall from the balcony.

None of it matters.

I will not crawl.

I may be broken, but I’m not dead.

I pull my swords from the sheath against my back, barely realizing what I’m doing. The rage is in control now. My thoughts are locked in fury. Muscle memory guides me, and Cassandra’s many years of training pulses through my consciousness.

Slowly, I start to circle Sin, my body low, as I look for an opening.

He grins at me before asking, “Had enough of the sex energy, mortal? Are you going to ask me to use my mouth instead?”

I bare my teeth at him. “My name is not mortal. And I would rather die.”

Sin lets me circle behind him as he tsks, “Such a shame. You don’t want me to make you purr, kitten?”

My vision goes red. I attack, trying to catch him off guard. But I’m too slow, and Sin dodges easily.

I glare at him as we stand facing each other.

“Don’t call me that,” I spit.

Sin cocks his head before flicking his fingers and sending another wave of lust through me.

“Make me,” he taunts, and the lust hits me with even greater force than before.

My core tightens further, and I bite down so hard on my inner cheek that I draw blood.

I charge him, anticipating his dodge. I miss, but come millimeters from slicing his skin. Again and again, I attack, and Sin dances around my blades, taunting me the whole while.

“You’re weak, hoping someone else will fight for you,” Sin says.

I ignore him, fully focused on making him bleed. Sweat coats my entire body, and I have no idea how long we’ve been at this.

Sin hits me with another wave of lust, and I double back close to the balcony wall.

“Do you quit, kitten? Are you ready to curl up into a ball and let someone own you?” he asks as he advances on me. He looks completely unscathed.

“Never,” I snarl before running in the opposite direction. The wall is there, and I jump, planting my feet on the stone and using the momentum to launch myself into the air. My blades are drawn, and I’m just about to slit Sin’s throat when he steps to the side and grabs my body mid-air.

He doesn’t hold me and instead spins me, slamming me down onto my stomach, onto the sand.

I land hard, and all the air is pushed from my lungs. It doesn’t get any easier to breathe when a weight settles over me. Sin’s thighs straddle me as he leans over and whispers into the shell of my ear, “You lose, kitten.”

Goosebumps erupt across my body. I try to struggle, but all I accomplish is feeling more of Sin’s body pressing against mine.

Another wave of heat hits me.

“Fine,” I growl. “You win. But stop with the lust. Now.”

Sin eases off immediately. “I didn’t –” But his words are cut short when he grabs my shoulder and shoves my hair aside.

A faint red glow appears, reflected in the sand, as Sin’s destructive powers awaken.

Oh fuck.

I try to struggle again, but Sin has a death grip on my shoulder, and his other hand fists in my hair, pulling it.

I bite down on the whimper that tries to escape my lips at the sensation.

“Kitten,” Sin’s voice is low, so only I can hear him, “why the fuck is there an energy siphon on your neck?”

Chapter 14

Rule fourteen: Men Destroyers are the worst.

Sin releases me and pulls me off the sand. He’s still glowing.

Magnus yells from the balcony, “Is the fight over? I think you should keep going. Our little enigma was finally getting into the spirit of things.”

Sin doesn’t look at them; his full focus remaining on me. “The fight is done. Leave now.”

I crane my neck to look wistfully at my potential witnesses as they quickly make their way back into the castle.

Sin hasn’t released my arm. His grip is firm but doesn’t hurt.

“Why?” he asks again, his voice thrums with rage.

I flinch at his tone, and Sin only looks angrier. But he releases me immediately, taking a step back and giving me space.

“It’s not what you think,” I answer, my heart thundering in my chest.

My body feels utterly raw from what Sin just did to me. He used his energy against me to manipulate me. Any hint of safety I felt here is gone.

Sin must see the fear in my eyes because he takes a deep breath, and the tattoos fade. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he grits out.

I narrow my eyes at him. “That’s rich coming from the man who literally choked me two days ago.”

Sin’s eyes darken. “Don’t pretend that was a frightening experience for you. Not when we both know just how much you liked it.”

My spine stiffens. “And what the fuck would you call what you just did to me? Are you going to convince yourself that I liked that too?” I yell, my voice breaking.

Sin throws his hands in the air as he thunders back, “I did it to give you fucking perspective! You are thinking of returning to the people who just did the exact same thing to you. And for some fucked up reason, you seem to think you owe them something! Go ahead and hate me. If it means you will fight back, then I will gladly be the monster you want me to be.”

I huff, not wanting to hear him, and instead try to think of a creative way to tell Sin he can fuck off.

“Why is there an energy siphon on your neck?” he asks again, this time more calmly.

“It isn’t a siphon. It’s a seal,” I snap.

“I have been alive for a very, very long time. And I can assure you, that mark on your neck is a siphon. It diverts your energy to whoever placed it on you,” Sin says, slowly taking a step towards me.

That comment gets my attention, and my mind starts to reel. Leon said the mark was a seal so that I wouldn’t hurt myself with the strange energy that started to manifest from me. He never said anything about a siphon.

I blanch.

I refused to let Leon have his own energy back. So, he decided to steal mine.

“Who?” Sin asks instead, voice low.

Shame wells up inside of me at the realization that, once again, I was blind to what was really happening. “You already know,” I whisper, staring at the sand.

“But why? What could he possibly gain from leeching your energy?” Sin asks as he appraises me. He looks like he’s assessing whether I’m a threat.

I wrap my arms around my middle, hugging myself tightly at the memory. I consider playing dumb, until I remember Magnus already tasted my aura. Everyone here must already know I’m not just a mortal Keeper. And even with that knowledge, no one has tried to hurt or extract information from me. Maybe – maybe they won’t kill me.

I don’t think I’ll get away with a full lie, so I decide to go with a half-truth.

“There have been… incidents with my energy. When I was angry with Leon, back in my own realm, a huge lightning storm erupted. There were purple clouds, and I thought it was Leon, despite having his collar, but he said it was me.”

Sin looks dumbfounded, and I continue, trying to glance over the second incident, “And then again, in the Otherworld. Leon was getting a little, uhm, physical so that I would unlock his collar. But then I accidentally threw him across the room with a blast of my energy.”

My cheeks heat with the confession, and the guilt I’ve been grappling with for days rears its ugly head again. “I threw the first punch. I hurt Leon first when I blasted him. No wonder he siphoned my energy. He needed to protect himself from me.”

The shame is trying to swallow me whole. I’m drowning.

“You protected yourself,” Sin argues, his tone hard. “Leon tried to use you, and you defended yourself.”

But the shame only drags me down deeper.

“He was trying to protect me. He said he needed to stop my energy so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt myself,” I whisper, in a desperate attempt to find a redeeming quality in the man I’ve been bound to. The man who says I’ll never escape him.

“He protected you by stealing the only power you had to resist the bond enslaving your mind. That isn’t protection. He was ensuring you wouldn’t be able to fight back again,” Sin growls before backing up a step and running his hands through his hair. “When the fuck will you wake up and see that you’ve been used against your will? Repeatedly.”

My shoulders slump, and I’m cold as Sin’s words fully sink in.

Leon used me. He lied to me.

There is nothing he won’t do to make sure I never leave him. He was happy to exploit the twisted bond between us to ensure we were together.

The despair hits again when a familiar thought crosses my mind.

He will never let me go.

Nothing, not even the truth about his relationship with Cassandra, will change his mind when he’s obsessed with keeping me.

I start to shiver, but look at Sin.

“Can you remove it?” I ask, my voice sounding smaller and more defeated than I’ve ever heard it.

Sin nods but says nothing.

He invades my personal bubble again, his body providing some welcome heat.

“Fight back, kitten,” he whispers, just as his tattoos glow red and his hand wraps around my neck.

Chapter 15

Rule fifteen: Death is a siren’s song, and you mustn’t listen.

I’m empty.

There’s nothing left.

The setting sun casts shadows in my room, and I watch them creep further across the floor from where I’m curled up on the bed.

There’s a knock at the door, but I don’t move. Instead, I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. I can’t speak. There are no words left inside of me.

The door creaks open, but no one enters. Damien’s whisper reaches me, “I told you she was probably sleeping. The poor girl has been living in the Mortal Realm for her whole life. Fighting like that without proper conditioning is dangerous.”

“Maybe we should wake her,” another voice responds, soft and bird-like – Rosie. “At least for dinner. Sin was hard on her. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“She will decide if she wants to be around friendly faces or not,” Magnus’ voice now, and he sounds suspicious.

I wonder if his power is telling him I’m awake. Or if maybe he has some other snake shifter powers I don’t know about. Either way, I think sleepy thoughts, focusing on keeping my breathing even.

“Let’s leave her alone. I’m sure she knows she doesn’t have to be alone,” Magnus continues, and the door shuts a moment later.

The room is quiet again, giving me the freedom to open my eyes and return to my important evening plans.

I hold my breath, waiting to see how long I can go before my vision blackens.

Two minutes, twenty-three seconds. That’s ten seconds less than when I started.

I’ve been at it since I left Sin in the arena, and I haven’t bothered to move from my spot on the bed.

The depressive haze that I’ve been trying to dodge finally has its teeth in me.

Sin told me to fight back, but that’s the problem. I have been fighting. Every day, every fucking breath is a fight to make sure the dark thoughts don’t take hold of me again.

But I didn’t fight hard enough. Something threw me over the edge.

I can’t pinpoint what exactly did it, but I’m thinking it might have something to do with the repeated crushing realizations that I’ve been bound to a monster who will never let me go. Or maybe my general guilt and repressed trauma finally caught up with me.

At least I’m not crumbling under the weight of the haze. I’m not angry or sad. I just can’t feel anything at all.

The world moves around me as if I’m watching it from a window.

Dissociation.

It happened a few times shortly after I survived the attack from my classmates.

The room gets darker, and I pick at the scab on my arm. I removed my bandage this morning, and the cut bled a bit after my fight with Sin. The scab will undoubtedly add yet another scar to my collection.

The sharp pain brings me some relief, tethering me to reality.

The shadows on my floor start climbing up the wall, and I squint my eyes, pretending I’m underwater again, drowning.

I forget that I’m holding my breath until my heart starts pounding, and my body convulses, forcing me to gasp.

That was probably longer than two minutes and twenty-three seconds. I forgot to count.

Shame.

Long after the shadows have fully swallowed the room, I finally sit up in bed.

Logically, I know this isn’t healthy behavior. I’ve tried shutting myself in before. It didn’t help.

I need to find a way to feel something again. Anything.

How do you jump-start your emotions?

I get the intrusive thought of a doctor using paddles to shock someone and get their heart beating again. I’m not too keen on getting blasted by ten thousand volts, but the theory behind it has some merit.

Maybe I can shock my body into feeling something again. I just need to do something that elicits a strong emotional response.

I could go find Sin and slap him. That would probably bring me joy. But then I’ll have to deal with Sin again, and I might just end up spiralling back to square one. His habit of reminding me that I’m a worthless whore, and that I’ve been duped by everyone around me has done wonders for my mental health.

Pursing my lips and not finding any other ideas, I stretch out of bed and sneak out of my room as quietly as possible.

The corridors are shrouded in darkness, but the faint light of the moon filters through the windows, illuminating the halls enough that I don’t walk into anything.

My steps are silent as I pad along the old wooden floors. I avoid the spots that creaked earlier, and for the first time in my life, I don’t make a sound while trying to be sneaky.

I’d be surprised, only I fought someone with swords today.

It’s hard to top that.

Voices sound from an open door up ahead, but I take a turn in the hall, avoiding whoever is awake. Another minute of making my way through a labyrinth of halls, and I spot a heavy wooden door.

Perfect.

The door gives a slight creak as I push it open, and I close it behind me as quietly as possible. It’s already dark, but I can still see the shadows of the creepy forest. It’s as if the forest is shrouded in an even heavier darkness.

Instead of making my way to that hellscape, I turn, heading for the steep cliffs that reach far above the tree line. The shadowy forms block out the stars beyond them.

Insects chitter, providing a welcome relief from the deafening silence.

When my mind registers my surroundings again, I’m standing in front of the cliff face. It’s as if I’ve blinked and appeared in front of it, but in reality, I know I’ve walked for ages. My feet ache in the new boots.

An almost vertical wall of rock looms above me, stretching at least 200 feet into the night sky. When I feel nothing at the thought of the task ahead of me, I start to climb.

At some point, my body should register how dangerous this is.

Halfway up now, and I feel nothing.

I keep going.

My fingers have started to bleed, making it difficult to get a good grip on the cracks in the rocks. The muscles in my arms are shaking, and it won’t be long until they give out.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

This is a stupid idea.

But no fear comes, even as I pull myself over onto the flat top of the cliff. Once on solid rock, I collapse, chest heaving and muscles twitching.

Clearly, I am underestimating what it will take to frighten myself. I should have gone into the room with people talking. Social interaction was probably the bigger threat.

Still, I’m here now. So, I may as well enjoy the view.

Pulling myself up off the ground, I wipe my bloodied hands on my pants as I make my way to the opposite end of the mountaintop. The sound of the roaring surf reaches me. I assume it’s been here the whole time. But noises and time aren’t registering so well with me anymore.

The water swirls in angry eddies as wave after wave crashes against the rock. I inch closer to the cliff’s edge, feeling nothing, even when the tips of my boots hang off the rocks.

I stare longingly at the angry waves.

Would it feel good to be consumed by their power and violence?

Years ago, I had to start making a conscious choice to live. And every time the depression creeps back in, the choice becomes louder. It’s deafening now, and I’m exhausted. Exhausted of fighting to live.

I’ve been trying for so long.

I lean forward, and my heart rate picks up. Maybe fear of falling won’t stop the disassociation. Not when, deep down, a part of me wants to jump. That thought is much more terrifying.

I start to lift my foot to step into the void, and something inside of me breaks.

The emotions I disassociated from hit with a vengeance.

The shame comes first. Shame and then guilt. It’s not only my pain that returns, but Cassandra’s too.

How did she let the Guardians use her for as long as they did? She turned a blind eye to their evil and hurt so many others on their behalf. She was a monster.

The shame continues to grow.

I’m no better. I let the Council use me, agreed to help kill someone without knowing whether they were guilty.

And then there’s Leon. I fought to see the best in him, even when he could clearly see the bond was forcing me to submit to him against my will.

Lightning cracks over the water, and I don’t flinch, lost in my spiral.

Despite my insistence that I didn’t want the bond, he continued to push and took advantage when it flared between us. He used it to try and make me his possession, an object he could control.

And I let him.

Maybe I was so desperate for that love that I was ready to accept anything he gave me, no matter how much his version of love hurt. Or maybe I was so broken from Jackson’s death that some part of me knew I deserved pain. Maybe the Fates bound us together not for some lost love, but as my penance.

What Leon wanted from me would have crushed every piece of my soul, and maybe the broken pieces of me thought that was a good thing.

I hate myself for all of it.

For feeling so inadequate that I ignored the red flags and blamed myself for our fights. And for letting myself be controlled by others, from Cassandra’s life to mine.

Nothing has changed. We’re both no better than puppets.

The sobs start to well up, and I hug myself, trying to stop the shakes that are wracking through me.

More lightning is hitting the water now in all directions, and a purple haze hangs in the air.

I don’t pay it any attention. I’m still drowning.

I cry for the loss of my home. My haven that was trashed by the forsaken. It took me ages to feel safe in the apartment, to feel like I belonged there. And now it will be taken away because it was ransacked, and I disappeared. More tears at the thought of my friends, who will be worried sick for me.

My stomach cramps and I lean over the edge even further. A part of me genuinely wanted to trust Leon. To believe he could love me.

I was so stupid.

My cheeks heat through the damp tears as I get angrier with myself. I keep letting this happen. It’s never going to stop.

The wind around me picks up, and the purple glow over the water grows brighter. I stare at the waves.

It would be so easy.

Just another few millimeters, and I’ll be gone.

I’ll finally be free.

The thoughts are like a siren’s song, beckoning me closer.

My body sways with the increasingly violent wind, and I teeter on the edge, wondering whether I will decide to live today.

But the next moment, an arm wraps around my waist, and I’m yanked from the edge. Tumbling backwards, I land on a hard chest and immediately realize Sin’s arm is around me.

I move to shove him off but freeze when I see it. Directly above us, a purple vortex of energy is swirling, its size dwarfing the cliff. The crackling and roaring of electric energy and wind are almost deafening, drowning out the sounds of the waves below.

I recognize the storm. It’s a more intense version of what I created the night the forsaken crashed my apartment. Sin’s tattoos flare to life, and I watch, shocked, as the purple energy slowly dissipates. The red glow grows brighter, and I realize he’s working to nullify the energy I’ve accidentally created.

Once the storm has faded, I move to climb out of Sin’s grasp again, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on me. Instead, he spins me so I’m facing him, holding me close enough that I can feel his heart trying to hammer its way through his chest.

His tone is accusatory when he asks, “Were you about to jump?”

I frown at him. My mental state is a highly private matter and stays between me and my therapist.

My very non-existent therapist.

I decide to deflect.

“It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t we be talking about that?” I ask, pointing at the sky that was exploding in a violent storm just moments before.

Sin doesn’t even glance up, his eyes locked on me. “I asked you if you were about to jump.”

His arms tighten around me even further.

I had just decided to step away from the cliff’s edge – right when he showed up, and the shame crushes me. I stare at a patch of rock between us, not wanting him to see my face when I answer, “I couldn’t do it. I wanted to, and I couldn’t. Okay?”

Sin sighs, and he releases me. I sit next to him, still trembling. We don’t look at each other and instead sit silently, watching the waves.

My tears haven’t stopped falling, but I’m too raw to care. If Sin is disgusted with me, then he can get in line. No matter how much he dislikes me, it has nothing on how much I hate myself.

After a time, he finally asks, “Why?”

I rest my head on my knees and figure I have nothing to lose at this point. “Because you were right. I let people use me. I’ve done horrible things. And even in this life, it hasn’t stopped. My life is bringing nothing but more pain. I can’t keep living like this. So, I thought dying might be a better option.”

Another tear falls, and I continue, “But you were right. I am weak. I’m too much of a coward to jump.”

I shift my arm to hide behind it, like the coward I am, wishing I could block it all out.

A gentle but firm hand pulls my arm down. He doesn’t let me go.

“Choosing to live is not a weakness. Being a survivor and continuing to fight, that is bravery. You let yourself be controlled, just as Cassandra did. But when she realized it, she fought for what was right. She was brave,” Sin answers as he watches me earnestly.

I frown at him, wondering how he could know that. But Sin continues before I have a chance to ask, “You’re at the same crossroads. There are atrocities being carried out in the realms. You aren’t the first or the last to be controlled by the whims of the Council. Ending your life is a way out, but it won’t make things better.”

“What’s option B, then?” I ask weakly.

Sin chuckles.

I’m too exhausted to point out how weird that is.

Sin releases my arm and turns back to look at the water as he answers, “Well, I am getting the impression that you might be a little bit more than human. You’re in a position to make a difference in the lives of others who can’t fight for themselves. You can help change things for the better.”

I stay silent, considering his words. Sin is content to sit beside me and wait, saying nothing else.

It isn’t lost on me that what I decide now will change the course of my life. If I choose to stand up and fight, if I decide to go against the Council, I will give up any chance of ever returning to my normal life.

There’s no coming back from this.

But too many people out there don’t get to make a choice. They don’t get to decide if they want peace. And knowing that, I can’t walk away.

Finally, I nod and whisper, “Okay.”

Sin nods back before standing and reaching down to help me up. He looks towards Morgana’s castle before asking, “Were you planning on climbing down, or can I apparate us back?”

I walk to the edge of the cliff where I climbed up, looking at the vertical drop. I’m on the edge, but Sin doesn’t try to grab me or hold me back. He waits patiently for me to make up my mind.

I step back from the ledge to stand before him.

“Let’s go home,” I answer.

Sin wraps his arms around me, and I let myself enjoy the feeling, if just for a second, until together, we apparate back.

Part 2 – Threads of Shadow

“Evil thenceforth became my good.”

- Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

Chapter 16

Rule sixteen: Do not let the Destroyer be nice to you.

There’s a soft knock at my door, just barely loud enough to wake me.

Despite the exhaustion that still clings to me, I grin. I haven’t run with Damien in a couple of days, and it will be nice to get back into a routine. Maybe if I don’t mention my depressive spiral, he won’t either. Worst case, I’ll just misidentify a muscle group and he’ll be distracted.

Opening the door to tell Damien I’ll just be a second, my brows raise when I find Rosie there instead.

“Good morning! Do you have a minute?” she chirps warmly.

My anxiety immediately flares full force. Is this an intervention? Did Sin tell everyone about last night?

I am not ready for this. But I step out of the doorway, regardless of my hesitation.

Rosie flits into my room and sits cross-legged on the chair by my bed, her wings hanging off either side. She gives me a hopeful smile before asking, “Sin mentioned this morning that you might have made up your mind about staying here?”

“Oh! Uhm –” I pause, trying to formulate my thoughts into a coherent answer.

I want to help with stopping the Council. But do I want to stay here? Thoughts of Sin on the cliff with me last night float to the surface. He had every chance to be cruel to me, but instead, he helped me. I’m not ready to hand over a friendship bracelet to the man, but it’s enough to make me believe that maybe there’s some good in him. I can’t fight the Council alone. I need allies, and I need to trust someone.

“I think I’d like to stay. Unless you guys threaten the Mortal Realm, or Morgana turns out to be an evil villain who murders innocents.” I add the second bit with a hint of amusement, even though I’m one hundred percent serious.

Rosie purses her lips as if trying to stop herself from laughing. “For the record, I would be leaving too if those things ever happened.”

Her answer puts me a bit more at ease. “Perfect, then I’ll stay wherever you are, and if we need to ditch, we’ll do it together.”

Rosie squeals, jumping from the chair to hug me. “Oh, I’m so excited! As soon as Morgana gets here, we’ll ask her. She’ll say yes – but just to be polite.”

She lets me go, spinning in a happy dance. “This means you aren’t under house arrest anymore! You can come out with us today!”

I frown. “I was the reason you guys were under lockdown?”

Rosie gives me a sheepish grin. “Sin didn’t want to risk certain things getting back to the Council. Please don’t be mad. Some secrets aren’t ours to share.”

I shake my head slowly, trying not to let myself expect the worst. Rosie wouldn’t look so happy about everything if she was hiding atrocities, would she?

“So, you’ll come, right?” she asks, nodding as if to further convince me to answer that way.

“Sure, why not?” I answer. I have no other plans. Maybe now I won’t need to interact with Sin today.

“Perfect! Wear your fighting clothes from yesterday,” she orders, heading back for my door.

“Uhm – why?”

She turns to give me a conspiratorial look as she pulls open the door. “Because we’re going into enemy territory.”

She closes it before I have a chance to press her for more details.

After dressing as quickly as possible, I find Rosie in the sitting room, just off the dining area. She’s wearing green leather armor embroidered with gold threads that wind into delicate leaves and vines. There’s a bow slung over her shoulder and a quiver of arrows strapped to her back.

My brow raises, impressed. “I didn’t know you fought.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t. It’s Sin’s first rule. If you live here, you need to be able to defend yourself and the others. It makes us stronger,” she adds, smiling.

I’m about to ask who trained her when a brooding mountain of a man enters the room. Sin crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at me. He’s dressed in his own fighting leathers, only there’s a large sword sheathed on his back and daggers strapped to his thighs.

“You’ve decided to stay?” he asks in lieu of greeting.

Even with the innocent nature of his question, there’s a bite to it that has me reminding myself that he helped me last night. I can stay civil, if only for that.

“Yes. I refuse to work for the people who tried to take my free will,” I answer, crossing my arms and craning my neck to look at him.

He stares at me for a moment, and it’s like he’s trying to peer into my soul, which he very well might be doing. That’s enough to extinguish any of my prior goals for civility. “Were you going to stare at me all morning? Or did you want something? Because Rosie and I have somewhere to be.”

Rosie’s jaw drops, and Sin’s mouth quirks up on one side, just a fraction. But he cuts his stare and tosses something at me.

It’s a muffin.

“We leave in five minutes. Eat,” he orders before turning to leave the room.

“Wait, what? No, you’re not coming,” I respond, unsettled.

Rosie did say she was going with someone else, but she and Sin don’t seem to interact much, so I assumed she meant she was going with either Magnus or Damien.

The pleasant company.

Sin arches a brow, not deigning to reply to my absurd statement. “Eat. You’re already a violent little thing. You’re not getting hangry on the mission.”

“I am not –” I start to argue, but he’s already gone.

I huff but take a bite out of the muffin anyway. But only because it’s chocolate chip.

Rosie still looks like she’s in shock. “I cannot believe you spoke to him like that.”

Still chewing, I raise an eyebrow at her, and she elaborates, “Sin is our second in command, after Morgana. They’re great leaders, but it isn’t the same way with them as it is with the rest of us. There’s a command structure, and they don’t break that boundary. It’s… unexpected to hear someone speak to him like that. Other than Morgana, I’ve only ever known one other person who’s done it.”

She pauses, tapping her foot lightly on the ground, and I keep eating my muffin, invested in the information. She’s confirming what I already suspected. Sin might be loyal to the others, but they’re not friends.

Why does that make me sad?

Rosie eyes me again, this time with a curiosity in her gaze that I haven’t seen since the day I arrived here. “And he’s informal with you, too. That’s… new.”

At that, the muffin becomes a dry glob in my mouth, and I barely manage to swallow it. “We don’t like each other,” I correct her before she can take the thought anywhere else.

I want to embellish and tell Rosie about how much of a dick Sin has been to me, but he cuts me off when he swaggers back into the room.

“Let’s go,” he commands. Rosie reaches for my hand, but Sin gets there first. My pulse jumps at the warmth of his hand against mine.

I frown. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going off-realm,” Sin answers. “Now that you’re staying, you’re going to see what we actually do here.” He pulls me close enough to wrap an arm around my middle before adding, “Hold on tight. The wards shouldn’t knock you out while we’re leaving, but they won’t feel good either.”

My breath catches at the feeling of being pressed together, and I fist my hands in his shirt, refusing to hold onto more of him. “But where off-realm –”

I don’t miss Rosie’s grin just before my feet leave the ground and we apparate from the room. When I’m on solid earth again, I blink at the dark spots in my vision. Sin holds me steady until the disorientation passes, and I finally untangle my hands from his clothes.

“It’s easier to show than tell,” Rosie answers, landing beside us.

I gape as soon as I look around. We’re in a forest with trees so large you could fit my apartment inside one. They tower over us, reaching high enough that I can’t make out where the canopy ends. Soft light filters in between the leaves, giving a golden hue to the forest floor.

“Welcome to the Fae Realm,” Sin says softly.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper back.

“It is,” Rosie agrees.

Sounds of trilling birds and insects surround us, and you can almost feel the humming of life in this place. It’s a far cry from the forest of the forgotten dead.

“It’s also not a good place to linger. There will be royal guards here soon,” Sin notes, his hand coming to rest just above one of his blades.

Rosie nods, her expression turning sombre as she leads the way. I fall into step beside her, and Sin slows his own pace so we’re not far apart.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, keeping my tone low.

“It’s a rescue mission,” Sin answers. “An old friend needs an extraction.”

I stare around us, looking for any sign of guards heading our way. “Why are they in trouble?”

“They’ve upset my mother,” Rosie notes, scrunching up her nose.

I turn to gawk at her. “This is where you’re from?”

It’s probably a stupid question, given Rosie is a fairy, but she just gives a dainty shrug. “A long time ago. My mother is the Seelie Fae Queen.”

She says it like it’s nothing serious.

I try not to let my complete surprise show. “So – you’re a princess?” I ask hesitantly.

Rosie giggles. “Not for a long time. My mother is a huge supporter of Need’s campaigns. It’s why my sister became a Creator, and I was selected as a Keeper. Only, when I bonded Irena, my mother realized she’d lost control of me and gave the order to have me killed.”

And here I was thinking I had mother issues. “I’m so sorry, Rosie.”

Rosie shakes her head. “Don’t be. My mother is horrid. The person we’re rescuing will be executed or imprisoned beneath the Council’s castle if my mother gets to her first.”

I swallow, not liking the sound of that. “Are we bringing this friend to Morgana’s castle then?”

This time, Sin answers, “Not quite.”

Hearing Sin speak when he isn’t angry, annoyed or disgusted with me is really off-putting. If I wasn’t already sure that he has the personality of a bed bug, I might think that there was excitement in his tone. But before I can ask him if he hit his head this morning, Rosie stops in front of a massive tree and passes her hand over the bark.

I quirk an eyebrow, and Rosie explains what she’s doing before I ask, “The tree is glamored to look like the others, but there’s a door here.”

“How on earth did you know to look at this particular tree?” I ask, incredulous. They all look nearly identical to me.

“Because I glamored it,” Rosie answers, reaching for a small branch and turning it. In response, a part of the tree bark swings outwards, revealing an entryway.

Rosie steps inside, and I do the same, with Sin following closely behind me. Small pink lights glow from little orbs placed along the inner bark, revealing a small open-air staircase ahead of us.

“This way,” Rosie notes, indicating the stairs.

The stairs wind high into the canopy and look like a hike. Remembering that we’re on a time-crunch, I think to ask, “Any chance we can just apparate up?”

Sin smirks. “The tree is warded to not allow apparition. It’s one of the defenses we added.”

He pokes me once in the ribs, and I jump, following Rosie up the stairs and turning to glare at him.

“Keep your guard up, kitten,” he whispers back.

I turn from him, disgruntled. Sin hasn’t called me a whore all morning, and it’s starting to worry me. I make a mental note to piss him off again soon, just to set things right.

Consistency is key.

“What did you mean about the defenses you added? What is this place?” I ask quietly.

“It’s a safe place for allies if they ever need to escape their home. We’ve built them across many realms over the years,” he answers.

Rosie chimes in with her own whisper, “I helped with this one. I have a way with convincing trees to let us use their interiors.”

I purse my lips, considering his answer. Morgana helped save Rosie. But is it possible she’s been helping others too?

Rosie finally reaches the top of the stairwell, and I pause beside her when I see a woman on the other side of the room.

“Rayne,” Rosie says, sounding relieved.

The Fae woman looks young, maybe a few years older than me. Though I figure that means nothing, given people age very differently out here. She’s a few inches taller than me, with angular features softened by her long lilac hair. Pointed ears extend from her hair, and she’s dressed in a simple cream dress. Her eyes are a striking violet, but the shade is mirrored in the circles that line them. She looks – exhausted.

“Rosie,” she answers, mirroring Rosie’s relief. Her voice doesn’t carry the sound of bells like Rosie’s does.

Her eyes lock on me, looking wary.

“This is Vivian,” Rosie says. “She’s with us. And you’ve already met Sin.”

Rayne nods, her shoulders sagging a bit.

I start to give her a tentative smile when I see the bundle in her arms move. I assumed the small oval blanket was a bag of her possessions, but I realize I’m way off base when I hear a soft cooing sound. It’s a baby.

Rayne adjusts the bundle and speaks to it in soft, soothing tones until it quiets again.

“We need to go quickly. It won’t be long until the guards are swarming the forest, looking for you both,” Sin notes softly.

Rosie makes her way over to Rayne, and I follow her, feeling Sin close at my back. At our approach, Rayne adjusts the bundle so it’s tucked in close to her in a protective gesture. But the baby’s face is still exposed as it watches us with wide eyes.

It’s impossible not to notice the purple serpentine eyes and rounded ears that are only partially visible through a small tuft of purple hair. I remember my talk with Magnus about half-breed babies being considered abominations.

I look back up at Rayne, only to find her staring at me defensively like she’s preparing to fight. “You baby is adorable. How old?” I ask, hoping the question puts her at ease.

Her eyes are wide and afraid but soften slightly at my question. “He – he’s only three days,” she answers quietly.

Sin gives her a grim look. “The father?”

She closes her eyes, shaking her head. “A dragon shifter – he, he held off the guards for as long as he could so we could escape.” Her voice shakes, and my heart breaks for her.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

She takes a deep breath and gazes down at her baby. “I won’t let them hurt Azar.”

Rosie takes Rayne’s hand, and quickly, we make our way back out of the tree. As soon as we’re outside, Sin steps forward. “The Shadow Realm wards will knock you out when you arrive,” he holds his hands out, “I can take the little one so he isn’t accidentally dropped.”

Rayne stiffens. “Is it safe? Will it hurt him?”

Sin shakes his head. “I’ll put him to sleep beforehand so he doesn’t feel a thing. It won’t hurt him, I swear it.”

Rayne looks ready to burst into tears but hands the baby to Sin. He accepts the child, tucking him closely in one arm. His tattoos glow slightly red as his thumb gently brushes the baby’s forehead. “Sleep,” he commands in a gentle whisper.

Immediately, the baby’s eyes shut, and we all watch for another moment as his chest continues to steadily rise and fall.

“Time to go,” Sin notes as he looks back at us.

“I – I don’t want to be separated from him. Please,” Rayne adds.

At her question, Rosie lets go of Rayne’s hand and gives her a nudge towards Sin. “You two go ahead, Vivian and I will be right behind you.”

Sin takes Rayne’s hand but pauses to give me a warning look.

I smile sweetly. There’s the illogically wrathful Destroyer I’ve been looking for.

Sin rolls his eyes, and he and Rayne disappear.

I turn to find Rosie wandering a few feet away, staring at the trees. She looks so sad. Given how much I miss my realm and haven’t been gone long at all, I can’t even imagine how much it must hurt for her to leave this behind.

“I can see why you love the garden so much if this is what you grew up with,” I note softly.

Rosie turns back to me, giving me a small smile. “I can feel them, the threads of life here. They’re all connected. It’s soothing.”

I’m about to ask her if she gets to come back often when I spot the glint of something metallic in a tree behind Rosie.

My eyes widen when I realize it’s another fairy standing deathly silent on a branch. He’s encased in chrome armor, save for the visor lifted from his face. But that isn’t what caught the light. It’s the arrow he has pointed directly at Rosie.

I run.

“Duck!” I scream just as the arrow leaves the bow. Rosie barely has time to turn her head to look for the threat before I shove her.

A shocked huff of breath is all I manage when a searing pain slices through my arm and then radiates into my side. We both tumble to the ground, Rosie falling beside me. I look at the source of the pain, only to find the arrow is there, impaled through my left arm. The arrowhead is either in the fighting leather or my ribs. I can’t tell.

Through the shock of pain, I look back up only to see a volley of arrows follow it, arcing through the air as they start descending on us.

Before I can confidently declare that we are beyond dead, Rosie grabs me. The ground drops from beneath us, and everything goes black.

An old woman is singing, and I think I might be dead. But a few blinks later, I turn to find Rayne is also here, fast asleep on a cot that matches the one I’m on. The older woman is bouncing Rayne’s baby in her arms.

“Enjoy your nap?” a gruff voice calls from the other side of my cot. I spin to see Sin leaning against the wall, watching me. He looks none the worse for wear, so I’m assuming whatever wards guard the Shadow Realm don’t affect him.

I start to sit up, wincing from the pain in my arm and ribs. Looking down, I see my fighting leathers have been replaced by a loose black T-shirt, and my arm is wrapped in a fresh bandage.

“Where’s Rosie?” I ask, immediately worried.

“She’s okay. I sent her back to the castle. You’ve been out for a while,” Sin answers. “What you did – was incredibly reckless. Rosie is an immortal.”

There’s still enough bite in his words to piss me off. “Rosie is my friend. I don’t care that I’m just a weak mortal in your eyes. I –”

But Sin shakes his head, silencing me. “I wasn’t finished. Rosie is an immortal, but the arrow you took for her was iron-tipped– deadly to Fae. It would have killed her,” he adds more gently.

My heart drops at the near-miss Rosie just had. Sin looks at me like he’s frustrated, and I can’t even begin to try and decode his feelings. Instead, I swing my legs to sit up on the bed, ready to be done with today. “Where are we?”

My question pulls Sin out of whatever mental battle he was just going through, and he steps forward, holding out a hand to help me up. “The arrival bay.”

I stare at his hand for a solid two seconds before giving him a disgruntled look and standing without his help.

Have we landed in an alternate universe? Is that what happened?

Sin smirks at my disregard for his help, before nodding at the woman walking around the room. She smiles warmly at me before waving. “I’ll see you again soon, Sin. Bye, Vivian.”

I wave awkwardly, and Sin leads us to the door.

“What’s an arrival bay?” I ask as we step out into a crowded street. The roads are cobbled stone and thatched cottages line either side. People bustle about, but every last one of them waves and smiles at Sin as they pass by.

An alternate universe checks out.

“It’s where we apparate refugees to when they first arrive here,” Sin answers. “They receive any medical care they need, and then we get them set up with a home. The community will support Rayne, and she and Azar will have a place to live for as long as they need.”

I gape at the crowds. “Are all these people…”

“In one way or another. Some had family fleeing the Council over a thousand years ago. They were born here. Others are more recent arrivals,” Sin answers as we start down the road. “Any time we get word that the Council is going to kill someone, we try to get to them first to bring them here instead. We provided resources, and over the years, they grew, building their own cities.”

I look down the winding roads to see hundreds more thatched cottages, shops, and what looks like a school. I’m filled with awe. “But won’t Rayne want to speak to you when she wakes? Or will she come to the castle to see you and the others?”

Sin shakes his head. “The arrival bay will take good care of her. The city is separate from the castle. Morgana’s castle is guarded by the forest of the forgotten dead. It’s protection since only a few trusted individuals can apparate through the forest’s wards.”

I frown. “So, no one from this village has gone to the castle?”

Sin gives me a tight smile. “Just one. A very long time ago.”

But before I can ask more questions, he reaches for my hand. “Mission’s done. Let’s go,” Sin says, and our feet leave the ground.

“I thought you couldn’t apparate into the castle grounds with me?” I ask when we land back in my bedroom.

Sin smirks. “I couldn’t.”

But before I can get him to embellish that statement, Sin reminds me why I usually don’t like him.

“Not that it makes much difference since you’re still pitifully weak and can’t leave on your own. But it’s less of a nuisance to bring you back now if you try to wander off again.”

I glare at him, only for him to give me a dazzling smile before he apparates out of the room.

My heart skips a beat. Sin smiling is – it’s just unfair.

Gritting my teeth, I turn and head for the washroom. Time for a cold shower.

Chapter 17

Rule seventeen: Always drink the fae wine.

Someone has been in my room again.

That’s not creepy at all.

Finishing my frigid but unhelpful shower, I frown when I notice the open chest at the end of my bed. It’s now filled with fighting clothes, weapons, and a few dresses. There are even a few sweaters from my realm and an extra blanket.

I almost squeal at the sight.

I’m entering my clean-girl era.

Freshly dressed in leggings and a cozy sweater, I make my way down the corridor, looking for the others. I feel bad for worrying them yesterday. I know they were trying to help. And while Rosie didn’t say a word this morning, will Damien and Magnus be more vocal? Will they be mad? Or even worse, will they give me covert pitying glances? Either way, I’m already worked up about how embarrassing it will be to see them.

And who knows if Sin is going to be in his usual bad cop kidnapper mood or if he’s going to play nice. The guy is giving off some Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde vibes.

I’m crossing my fingers for jerk-face Sin.

Voices filter down into the hallway, and unsurprisingly, I follow them to the dining hall. I’m just going to quietly assume this is where they hang out when they’re not working.

There’s a full house tonight, crowded around the table. Sin, Rosie, Magnus and Damien are all at their usual spots, and my chair is empty. But at the head of the table, opposite Sin, there’s someone new.

She’s tall and willowy, with dark skin that contrasts her long silver hair. Her hair frames an oval-shaped face in tight ringlets. She turns to me, and I swallow, trying not to focus on her opaque black eyes.

The woman smiles knowingly at me. “Hello, Vivian.”

Clearing my throat, I move to my own chair and take a seat. I don’t need to ask who this woman is. I already know.

“Hello, Morgana,” I answer, willing my pulse to take a chill pill.

One of her eyebrows twitches up, but she doesn’t correct me.

“It’s good to see you up and healthy. My informants mentioned you were injured when you arrived. I trust you’ve found your accommodations satisfactory?”

She’s sounding a lot like a politician, the way she’s dancing around the whole kidnapping business. That’s not promising.

Still, I give her a tight smile. “It’s been very nice, thank you.”

I have no desire to get on this woman’s bad side. Especially considering I’m hoping she won’t kick me out of her realm and send me back to Leon.

Which begs the question, how do you ask a stranger if you can live with them without sounding weird? I was not prepared for this. I should have thought to write a speech or make cue cards. My inner organized, socially awkward goddess panics.

Rosie turns to me and mouths a quick ‘thank you’ before looking back at Morgana. “Like I was telling you, Morgana, Vivian thinks she might want to stay here longer than anticipated. That’s not a problem, is it? She’s a valuable addition to our team. She saved my life this morning.”

Bless Rosie’s soul.

Magnus and Damien look thrilled at the question, while Sin just looks bored. There’s a charged energy in the air, though, and the way the others look between me and Morgana, it’s like they’re waiting for a show to start.

I can’t imagine why. I’m not prone to theatrics. Except for the time I threw a knife at Sin.

Or the time I threw a book at him.

Or the time I yelled at him.

Respectfully, though, he deserved it.

“Our little enigma has finally decided she doesn’t want to leave,” Magnus notes before Morgana can answer. “How positively delightful. I look forward to continuing to spend time together,” he finishes with a seductive tone.

Damien winks at me. “He means WE look forward to spending more time together.”

I flush, trying to think of something clever to answer. But a loud crack from beside me distracts me from their comments. I look at Sin questioningly, only to find him flexing his hands. He’s back to looking murderous.

Before I can comment on whether supernatural creatures are at risk of arthritis, Morgana answers Rosie, “I have no issue with you staying as long as you’d like, Vivian. But I believe you should make an informed decision. There are things you don’t know that may weigh heavily into your decision to stay with us.”

I frown, and chills run down my spine.

Talk about foreboding.

Sin’s words about Morgana return to me. “Sin mentioned you had informants watching me over the last few days. Is that it?”

Please let it only be that. I can deal with some mostly innocent stalking.

Morgana leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. “Dear girl, I have been watching you since Atlantis.”

I gape.

Rosie hands me a glass. I take a big gulp and try not to choke.

It’s wine.

Coughing and sputtering, I try to remember how to breathe air instead of alcohol.

Rosie whispers, “You’re going to need it.”

“How? Why?” I ask Morgana when I’ve finally got myself back under control.

“Do you remember the week you were killed?” Morgana asks mildly.

I close my eyes, trying to call back Cassandra’s memories.

Leon and I are lying in bed together, blankets tangled around us after making love. He tells me people from his realm are coming to Atlantis. They’re powerful like him, but Leon assures me he will keep me safe. He says they visit Atlantis during the season of prophecies to hear our oracles speak.

My eyes open, and I nod to Morgana. “It was the season of prophecies. People from the Otherworld were coming to Atlantis.”

Morgana smiles. “Very good. And we did visit. Need, other important Council members, and I came. I was working with the Council, trying to find ways to bring them down from within. Your realm has never held much value to us, but admittedly, it’s the only one that ever produced decent oracles.”

I frown. “What does that have to do with Cassandra? She didn’t attend the prophecies.”

“She didn’t need to. She was in one,” Sin grumbles from beside me.

I blink. Once, twice, waiting for Sin to tell me he’s messing with me, but he says nothing.

Morgana continues, “The oracle foretold of a mortal who would love a Creator – but be reborn to love a Destroyer. That she would bring about a new era to all the realms,” she finishes, giving me a knowing look.

Rosie looks at me pityingly. Magnus and Damien look grim but not surprised.

They’re all in on this.

My vision starts to tunnel. This is a sick joke.

“The Council felt threatened by the prophecy and determined on the spot that Atlantis had to fall. The oracles could not be allowed to make such claims again. The Council already knew Leon was in love with a mortal. He’d met with us to gain permission to stay in Atlantis with her. So, we had high confidence that the prophecy was about you. You were the threat,” Morgana continues.

Are these people for real right now?

“But, how? Why? This is ridiculous. Oracles are just people high on drugs, spewing out nonsense,” I sputter.

I’ve seen the documentaries. Oracles were abused girls. Not magical.

Morgana leans back in her chair, looking at ease. “I assure you, they were very much correct on all occasions. And so, we acted. The Council ordered me to uncollar Sin so he could bring down Atlantis. He was instructed to attack the temple last so Leon would have time to get you out. They decided the only way to stop the prophecy was to make you immortal and to lock you away.”

“But Leon didn’t get me out,” I whisper, trying to make sense of it all.

Morgana smiles. “No one expected you to resist being taken to safety. Leon was given strict orders not to interfere with the battle, lest he get any ideas about seeing his city fall. So, when you refused to leave with him and started preparing the others to escape, you became off-limits to him.”

I don’t miss Sin’s satisfied smirk or the looks of rapt attention on Damien and Magnus. They seem completely engrossed by the story. Rosie keeps topping up my glass with wine every time I take a sip.

She’s my favorite person.

“I’d been waiting a long time to find a way to bring down the Council. At that moment, I saw the best chance we would ever get. You. But you needed to die before the Council could make you immortal. So, Sin had the armies focus their attention on you. And yet, you would not fall. You, a pacifist priestess, slaughtered your enemies, refusing to die,” Morgana continues to the familiar part of the tale.

Scoffing, I cut in, “But I did die.” I don’t miss an opportunity to glare at Sin. “I don’t forgive you for that, by the way.”

Sin winks, smirking at me. “I didn’t kill you, kitten.”

I give him a dubious look. “Puppeteering people to kill me still counts as…”

Morgana stops me from laying into Sin any further. “It’s true. Sin didn’t kill you. I did.” She sounds cheerful.

I turn to her, completely aghast, but Morgana keeps talking, ignoring my dismay, “Leon was back in the city and coming for you. I knew we were running out of time. So, I put two arrows through you. I killed you to make sure you could be reborn.”

“This is crazy,” I whisper.

Rosie whispers beside me, “Told you you’d need the wine.”

“But how could you be so sure it was me? That Leon would become a Destroyer?” I ask, working hard not to get hysterical.

To be fair, I feel like hysterics are warranted right about now.

Morgana brushes off my concerns with a wave. “I knew he would become a Destroyer because I orchestrated it. I murdered his Keeper while he was distracted by your death and took his key. I released Leon, knowing he would do something against the Council’s orders and disgrace himself.”

“We weren’t expecting him to sink half the coastline. We thought he’d murder the invaders,” Sin notes, almost apologetically. “But he was more violent than we could have imagined.”

“But…” I pause, frustrated at everything about this, “Leon said his collar fell off. Not that you removed it.”

Morgana hums. “I imagine he’s a bit reluctant about your learning he had anything to do with me. Sin and I fled the Council that night before they could get wind of what we’d done. We’ve been waiting for your return ever since.”

No one speaks after Morgana finishes. It’s like they’re all holding their breath, waiting for me to react to what I’ve just learned. I stare at the heaping pile of food that somehow appeared on my plate.

I feel sick – not at hearing about my own death from the lips of my murderer, but from the implications of the prophecy.

“So, Leon was right. I have no choice. It’s my destiny to be with him.” My voice is flat. A feeling of icy dread spreads through my body as I remember Leon’s words.

I was promised to him, long ago.

I shudder.

Morgana hums, and I look back at her, deflated. She looks thoughtful. “Prophecies are not like destiny, Vivian. Destiny is written by the Fates – and the Fates can be bought. Prophecies run deeper and are rarely as clear.”

I frown, confused.

Morgana shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s very likely you will love a Destroyer. Though, I will note that you don’t seem particularly fond of the one selected for you. Luckily, it’s an interesting time for the Destroyer dating market. There are two more you can choose from.”

I choke on my spit and turn to look at the jerk-faced Destroyer beside me, who has been calling me a worthless whore for days.

Sin is looking at Morgana like she’s lost her mind. It totally doesn’t hurt my feelings.

My self-esteem has always been this low.

I should have stuck to book boyfriends. Men are the worst.

I turn back to Morgana, and pick up my glass, now very grateful for the wine. “Well, in that case, we had better go dig up Irena because I’m about to join her and Rosie as a throuple.”

I down the rest of my wine, ignoring the shouting and comments that follow.

My love life is the product of thousands of years of plotting. My head spins at the thought.

I’ve never felt more annoyed at being heterosexual. Even being just a bit bicurious right now would help.

Stupid attraction to men.

So inconvenient.

I zone back into the chaos that has unfolded around me. Sin and Morgana are arguing. Sin is standing now, waving his arms and looking livid, so situation no change there. Morgana looks like she’s having the time of her life tormenting him.

Rosie leans into me and whispers, “Are you back with us?”

I look at her, shocked that she’s paying such close attention. She smiles softly and whispers, “I think you’re great and all, but I get the distinct feeling you are very straight.”

I give her my most miserable expression. “Unfortunately.”

Magnus and Damien have joined the yelling and are also standing now, and I frown at the noise, trying to figure out what everyone is so flustered about.

Not to play the victim card, but their murderer isn’t trying to set them up with someone.

Rosie whispers a play-by-play of the last few minutes, “Morgana wants you and Sin to work together for as long as you’re here. Sin is accusing her of meddling, and he thinks she’s delusional. Morgana is arguing that she’s just being practical and is accusing him of being afraid. So, Sin is pretty upset, and now Magnus and Damien are arguing that you should be training with them instead since you don’t want to work with Sin.”

I look back at the chaos, wondering when my life became such a train wreck. “Don’t I get a say in this?” I ask loudly, over their voices.

All eyes turn to me, and everyone goes silent. Annoyance overrides my immediate urge to not be the center of their attention.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I’m not going to love anyone. And quite frankly, I think we have bigger issues,” I add, trying to sound as stern as possible.

Boundaries are important. I’ve decided my love life is off-limits.

Sin nods at me once before turning to Morgana. We both stare her down, daring her to argue.

Morgana just looks between the two of us with a shit-eating grin. “Of course. But be that as it may, there’s an entire Council of powerful people looking for you, Vivian. Sin is the strongest person here and the only one who can protect you from them. So, whether you love each other, like each other, or hate each other, you’re stuck together until the threat of the Council is gone.”

She still sounds far too pleased.

Sin opens his mouth to argue again, but Morgana cuts him off, her tone turning hard and commanding, “Sin, you mentioned you had off-realm business to attend to tonight. Go now. This will be your last solo mission, so take this time and get used to the idea.”

Sin shoves away from the table, his tattoos glowing a faint red. But he says nothing as he storms out of the room.

Magnus stage whispers across the table, “I told you he doesn’t call the shots around here.”

Damien makes a whip-cracking sound, and they have their desired effect as I break into a giggle.

Morgana gives them a sharp look, and they immediately look contrite.

I start picking at my food now that the conversation has finally lulled. But Morgana isn’t finished. “Would you all mind letting Vivian and me speak and private?” she asks mildly.

The food in my mouth suddenly feels like sawdust, and I swallow more wine to wash it down.

This can’t be good.

Damien, Magnus and Rosie immediately rise and give me encouraging looks before trailing out of the room.

At least they didn’t look worried. I’ll take that as a promising sign.

Morgana waits for the sounds of their footsteps to fade away before giving me her full attention. “Now that the immediate business is out of the way, I was hoping you could answer a question for me.”

She sounds mildly curious.

I nod. “Of course, what is it?”

My inner people-pleaser is in full swing.

She lounges back in her chair, wine in hand. “Would you care to tell me how you, a mortal, made an energy storm so strong that is almost tore a hole through my realm last night?”

Chapter 18

Rule eighteen: When meeting with your murderer, take safety precautions.

Maybe I should consider getting a time-share in hell, given I keep having moments where I wish the earth would open and swallow me whole.

This is one of those moments.

Morgana stares at me expectantly, which I mean – fair. I had no idea my meltdown yesterday might have damaged her realm. The entire idea sounds downright ludicrous.

“I have no idea,” I answer honestly.

Morgana narrows her eyes a bit. “Interesting. And how long ago did these powers manifest?”

I purse on my lips, hoping I only look like I’m trying to remember the exact date. She asked about ‘these powers,’ so technically, I wouldn’t be lying if I didn’t mention the ghost-related stuff.

“Shortly after I found Leon,” I answer. “I made a similar storm the night your forsaken came for us, and then I accidentally blasted Leon across the room when he was trying to force me to uncollar him.”

Morgana’s mouth twitches into a slight smirk when I mention blasting Leon.

I stand corrected. Maybe it’s Leon who has no friends. He really needs to work on himself.

Or, more accurately, after trying the dating world, all men should work on themselves.

I continue, “Leon put an energy siphon on me after I blasted him, and Sin removed it yesterday morning.”

Morgana hums but says nothing. The room is painfully quiet. I continue to pick at my food to give my hands something to do.

The silence stretches on, and I finally decide to pry. “You already knew about the first energy storm, right? I’m assuming your forsaken told you.”

I imagine at least some of them saw the sky light up into clouds of angry purple.

Morgana stretches up from her chair as she answers, “Don’t believe everything you’ve been told. Most think the forsaken are my spies, and I’m happy to let them believe that. But the broken spirits can’t communicate with me. They have decayed past that ability by the time they are sent here.”

I frown. “But you sent them after me.”

I will never forget the forsaken on the ceiling of the parking garage. That clocks as one of my top three shit-my-pants life moments.

“The Shadow Realm has been used for thousands of years as a haven for broken souls. The spirits come here when they are either too decayed to retain their humanity or if they are broken from a traumatic death. My ancestors have always been caretakers of broken souls and could command them. They passed the ability on to me,” Morgana answers.

I frown, wanting to ask why the souls aren’t sent into the afterlife, but Morgana continues before I get the chance.

“Can you call your power at will?” she asks as she walks to my side of the table.

I lift my hands in front of my face and think, ‘Spooky purple powers,’ but nothing happens.

Shame.

Dropping them, I look back at Morgana, slightly embarrassed. “No. I didn’t even realize the energy came from me when the storms happened.”

Morgana hums again before heading towards the door. Maybe she’s disappointed that her prophesied ‘chosen one’ is useless.

Same girl, same.

She pauses but doesn’t look back at me as she calls out, “Meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes if you want to learn how to control your power,” and then walks out of the room.

Is there an unspoken rule in the Shadow Realm that you should leave people gaping when you walk away from them? Maybe it’s a power play. Either way, I’m getting tired of always being left with more questions.

I finish my dinner, considering Morgana’s offer. Pro, learning to control my powers might significantly increase my chances of not dying. Con, Morgana is the reason I died in the first place. Mind you, being kept as an immortal prisoner by the Council sounds worse than death. Still, I’m not ready to go on coffee dates with this woman. If she was willing to kill me once, who’s to say she won’t do it again?

Which brings me back to the pro. Learning how to control my powers will probably increase my chances of surviving this.

Sighing, I move my wine over in favor of a glass of water.

A late-night meeting with my murderer – what could go wrong?

An icy chill clings to the air tonight, mirroring my feelings of trepidation. After quickly stopping in my room for my fighting leathers and weapons, I find Morgana in the courtyard as expected. While getting ready, I also took the time to devise a few ‘don’t die’ strategies.

Strategy one, when meeting with your murderer, always be prepared.

The added weight of my blades gives me some comfort.

I passed Magnus and Damien, snuggled up together in the sitting room when heading down to the courtyard. As an added precaution, I took a moment to give them the heads up that I accidentally almost blew up the realm, so Morgana was going to teach me to control my powers.

Strategy two, when meeting with your murderer, tell a friend where you’re going – so they know to check on you.

I am nailing this.

Magnus and Damien wanted to question me more about my realm-breaking energy, but I hurried on, not wanting to be late for my training.

I walk to her now, rubbing the cold from my arms and cursing myself for not bringing a cloak. Morgana is unmoving as she waits for me. The effect is a bit creepy. She looks like a Halloween animatronic, with her black eyes and long black dress. Her outfit is complete with a warm-looking cloak.

Jealous.

“So, how are we going to do this?” I ask as I reach her.

Morgana grabs my arm, and in a blink, we’re no longer in the courtyard. When I see where we are, the cold of the night air has nothing on the feeling of icy dread that washes over me.

We’re standing in front of the off-limits death forest. And, to make things worse, there’s a path leading in.

Oh no. No, no, no.

I don’t like where this is going.

Morgana lets me go as soon as I’ve caught my balance. And without hesitating, she starts down the path.

“This is where you’ll be learning to control your powers,” she calls before turning to see me still hesitating at the forest’s edge. “Nothing here will hurt you as long as you’re with me.”

That should make me feel better.

It doesn’t.

Still, I weighed my options at the table, so I follow.

The darkness in the forest is thicker, but contrary to my expectations, moonlight does manage to filter in. Silver linings, as always.

I walk beside Morgana, focusing on the eerie screeches coming from all around us. The hairs on my arms rise at the sound. The screeches are precisely like the calls from the forsaken in the parking garage, though I’m not entirely convinced there aren’t killer clowns in here, too. Still, the forsaken stay away, and I see no sign of them or any other creatures that might want to tear us to pieces.

We walk in silence, following the winding path. Finally, when I’m convinced we’re going in circles, Morgana stops.

We’re still surrounded by the same forest. I was expecting maybe a secret laboratory. Or a magical obstacle course.

Things are taking a disappointing turn.

I ask Morgana again, “So, how are we going to do this?” My voice gets a bit more high-pitched at the end this time.

Morgana looks cool as a cucumber when she looks at me. “This is where your training will start. First, I’ll need your weapons.”

My gut says not to do it.

My brain says I’m already a dead woman for following her in here.

My stomach says I should have stayed inside and had dessert.

I hand over my weapons.

Morgana takes them as she continues to explain my training, “I’m a firm believer that the best way to learn how to use your powers is to have a good reason to use them. Not just facing off with a potential ally.”

Why do I not like where this is going?

“This forest is infested with forsaken spirits. Your task is simple. Turn around and walk out,” Morgana continues.

I frown as she steps away from me. “What are the forsaken going to do while I walk out?”

Morgana smiles. “I ordered them to stay away from us while I’m present. I’ll be apparating back to the castle now.”

My eyes widen, and panic unfurls as I realize exactly what this test will entail. “Morgana – I’m unarmed – I don’t have any way to defend myself.”

Morgana doesn’t look bothered. “You need to use the power locked inside of you. Not these.” She holds up my swords. “Don’t look so concerned,” she adds. “I’ve instructed the forsaken not to kill you.”

At my relieved expression, Morgana’s smile becomes a wicked grin. “They’re not allowed to kill you, but maiming is highly encouraged,” she finishes and then disappears, leaving me completely alone in the forest.

The screeching stops. There isn’t a sound now as I turn around on the path, holding my breath. I preferred it when they were making noise. At least that way, I had an idea of where the creatures were.

I don’t think I’m a violent person, but if I make it out of here, I might have to repay the favor and kill Morgana. With Cassandra’s memories, I’m sure I can whip up a few creative ways to slit that woman’s throat.

How long do I have, I wonder, until they realize Morgana is gone?

The path is littered with old leaves and twigs, making it impossible to stay quiet as I start back the way we came. I walk with purpose, but not too quickly. There’s no sense in wasting my energy. This is going to be a long walk back.

Every step is deafening, carrying over the sound of blood pumping in my ears. My best chance is to stay undetected for as long as possible. I can free the souls of forsaken, but I haven’t forgotten how they swarmed into the parking garage.

A swarm would be very, very bad for my health.

A branch snaps somewhere overhead.

Fool me once…

This time, I know better than to only look at the forest floor when looking for deadly creatures. I don’t stop walking but make sure to keep glancing up for the source of the noise.

Nothing.

It’s killing me to keep my footsteps steady and not sprint out of here. The forsaken are much faster than I can ever dream of being. There’s no running from them.

Another branch snaps to my right this time. But the sound is still above me.

‘Stand and fight before it calls for backup. Get in the open where it can’t ambush you, and brace your legs,’ a voice in my head barks out.

The voice sounds like it knows what it’s doing. I’m guessing Cassandra’s training is starting to mix with my own consciousness.

I should probably have that looked at. But if her memories help me survive this, she’s more than welcome to stay.

I walk a bit further until the path widens up ahead. This is probably as good as it’s going to get.

The forsaken is still stalking me. Branches snap around me as it circles.

My heart is thundering, and I might pee myself. But instead of looking around frantically, I close my eyes, trying to pick up on exactly where it is.

‘Steady,’ the voice in my head warns.

The sound of the forsaken gets closer, but I don’t move.

I’m not sure if that’s due to the fear paralysis or Cassandra’s memories telling me not to budge.

Finally, a low growl comes, the sound right behind me. I don’t want to turn around.

Slowly, my eyes open, and I turn, trying to keep my movements as non-threatening as possible.

The forsaken clings to a branch above me, its weight pulling the branch low. Its neck is craned back, and it turns to look directly at me.

Don’t show fear. I remind myself.

This isn’t my first rodeo with broken spirits, but I can fully admit that the forsaken are much more terror-inducing than the faceless creatures back in my realm.

It really comes down to the teeth and the moving. The faceless from back home blinked closer and closer to you, and that was creepy, but I think I could have run from one.

The forsaken are built like they were meant to kill. The razor-sharp teeth of the one above me gleam in the moonlight.

I swallow.

It lets out a series of high-pitched screeches before dropping from the branch. It walks on all fours towards me like some sort of demon animal. Claws dig into the soil, and it circles me, edging closer until finally stopping directly before me.

Breathe, Vivian. No fear.

I try to will my body to relax.

The forsaken sniffs at my boot before standing back on two legs. Its hot breath and the stench of rotten meat wash over me. I try not to think about the fact that the smell is likely its own rotten flesh. Instead, I focus on trying to feel for the creature. On how it has been trapped here for who knows how long, and how Leon told me some souls were sent into slavery until they decayed into forsaken. This was just a person. They had a life, and now they’re stuck in a perpetual loop of suffering.

There’s so much wrong with this afterlife.

The forsaken doesn’t stay calm like the others did but instead grows more agitated as the silver light starts to extend from me. It chitters in alarm, letting out more high-pitched shrieks as the silver light circles around it.

I ignore the fact that the creature is letting all the other forsaken know precisely where we are as I stay fully engrossed in freeing the soul.

The light fully encloses it until finally dissipating. The spirit of a woman in metal armor remains.

I sag but don’t have a chance to appreciate my victory because the sounds of the outside world are quick to return. Branches are breaking, and multiple shrieks are approaching from different directions now.

This is bad.

I am beyond screwed.

I look to the spirit. “Will you help?” I ask pleadingly.

The spirit nods, her own eyes widening as she looks around the forest, picking up on the sounds.

“Go,” she mouths, pointing down the path.

I don’t need to be told twice.

The silvery light of the spirit follows behind me as we hustle down the path. The time for stealth is over. The forsaken know exactly where I am, and they’re coming for me.

Running now, hardly a breath passes before I see two shadows crawling impossibly fast through the branches above us.

More forsaken. The freed spirit draws her sword and heads for the one on the left. I focus all my energy on the forsaken to my right, trying to free it without slowing down.

The sounds of crashing branches grow closer, and it’s hard to ignore the immediate threat.

Still, the silvery light comes, wrapping around the forsaken. In response, it leaps from the branches and lands on the path just ahead of me. It bares its teeth as my silver light fully engulfs it.

I don’t slow as I run past it, or bother looking back.

More branches and shrieks.

I push myself to run faster. But it doesn’t make a difference.

More shadows ahead now, at least five. Still, I run, refusing to feel fear and pushing all my thoughts into feeling sorrow for these creatures.

Sorrow that they became so fully broken that they had to be forced into this dark place. Sorrow that they are now forced to follow the whims of an immortal. Sorrow that they’ll never know peace.

More light extends from me now, reaching the five forsaken. One manages to shake free of the silvery threads, shaking its head in confusion before launching at me.

We connect, and I go down. The creature has me pinned on my back, its teeth snapping directly above my face.

A stab of fear hits me just as the forsaken is wrenched off me by the spirit of another warrior, a man now.

I don’t waste a moment before I’m up and running again, still trying to free any spirit that comes too close. Some are freed, but others manage to evade my energy, and I’m left dodging around trees as they try to jump down at me.

More freed spirits have joined the fray now, trying to take down the forsaken that I miss. But it isn’t enough.

I round a bend on the path, and my stomach sinks.

Ahead, the forsaken form a solid wall along the forest floor, and the trees above them are infested with even more. They’re all running towards me, impossibly fast. I screech to a halt.

There’s no way I’m getting through that.

Spinning on my heel, I’m met with a familiar sight. There are just as many forsaken behind me. About a dozen freed spirits try to fight them off, but we’re outnumbered, a thousand to one.

I have time to take a single breath, and then, the swarm descends on us.

The screeching is almost deafening, and I try to focus my power on freeing as many as I can. But within another second, they’re on me.

All I can see is a writhing ball of leathery black skin before I’m thrown to the ground. Claws dig into my back, and others rip across my arm, opening my very fresh arrow wound.

The pain is instant, and I fight with all my might to try and get up, to escape.

But there are just too many.

More pain as another clawed hand rakes across the top of my thigh, shredding my fighting leathers. I curl up into a tight ball and try to let my mind go to a different place.

Morgana said they wouldn’t outright kill me. Does she know humans can die of blood loss?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus on something else.

The sadness hits first.

If I die, then this is just going to keep happening.

More souls will be sold into slavery, only to be discarded by the immortals in power whenever the soul has outlived its usefulness.

More realms will suffer the actions of the Council whenever they feel threatened. And this forest will only grow more crowded with broken spirits.

The cycle of suffering will never stop.

In that moment, every trace of fear left in me disintegrates. Instead, I’m left feeling raw and disappointed.

It needs to stop.

I want to fix this, to help in any way I can.

I don’t want to hide anymore.

As that final thought enters my brain, the silvery light starts to hum within me, growing louder and louder, until finally, light explodes from me.

It feels as though my entire existence shatters with it.

Chapter 19

Rule nineteen: When offered a three-way as pain relief, the answer is always yes.

The crushing weight of the forsaken is off me in an instant.

Slowly, I uncurl from my protective ball and pull myself to standing, blinking at the brightness. My usual silvery wisps of light have been replaced by a solid silver sphere. But the light isn’t stagnant. I watch, transfixed, as it pulses outwards from me. Within the sphere, every forsaken is enveloped by the silvery light.

The humming sensation inside of me continues like there is a battery powering this energy.

I don’t think I’ve even taken a breath yet. I may not be capable of it. I’m paralyzed, watching the light spread further and further. Until finally, whether hours or seconds later, the light comes violently crashing back toward me.

I only have a second’s warning, but it makes no difference as the bright silver glow slams into me, its crushing impact knocking me back to the ground.

Everything goes dark.

When my consciousness trickles back in, my immediate thought is that I really hope there are no more forsaken around. All I can picture is a pack of them feasting on my innards while I was blacked out.

My imagination is not my friend.

Thankfully, when I open my eyes, I only see a few freed spirits circling me. They don’t seem violent, and though they’re silent, they keep gesturing to each other, repeatedly pointing to my leg.

Frowning, I sit up, only to realize the entirety of the forest still retains a faint silver glow. My jaw drops once I realize its source. Every last forsaken has been replaced by a freed spirit. Beyond the few directly around me, the others all wait, standing at attention, forming a circle around me. There are thousands of them.

One of the spirits closest to me kneels, pointing to my thigh. He looks concerned. Following his gaze, I catch sight of the scratch left by one of the forsaken. Blood is oozing out.

I grimace. It looks deep. And it will undoubtedly start bleeding more when I start walking. Still, I can’t just sit here all night with my new ghostly entourage.

The spirit doesn’t move, and I smile weakly at him. “It’s okay. I can patch myself up.”

He nods, accepting my answer before returning to stand with the others.

The scratch starts just below my hip and ends halfway down my thigh. I need to slow the bleeding before I can get out of here.

You’d think fighting outfits would come equipped with mini first aid kits, but I’m high and dry. That’s a serious workplace safety hazard.

Instead, I pull off my belt and tighten it around the top of my leg, making it so tight I want to scream. It’s excruciating, but does the trick, slowing the blood loss.

I don’t think about the matching scratches on my arm and back or about the possibility of supernatural sepsis. Instead, I stand, testing my weight on my injured leg.

It hurts like hell, but I can walk.

I look at the huge crowd of spirits waiting all around me. “Will you walk me home? In case there are more threats?”

The spirit in the water outside Leon’s castle didn’t leave until I told her to go. Hopefully, these spirits will be similarly inclined because I don’t think I have enough energy even to light a match.

Thankfully, the spirits look like they’re willing to help. Some nod, while others place their fist to their chests in a show of solidarity.

The forest is much calmer now. There isn’t a single screech to indicate there may still be any forsaken left.

We make it through the forest without incident, and to my relief, Morgana isn’t waiting for me up at the castle. Instead, she stands on a hill not far from the path’s entrance. Sin stands beside her, his arms crossed and his expression hard. Magnus and Damien wait on her other side, their eyes widening at the sight of me. At least those two look concerned.

I take in Morgana’s self-satisfied expression, and rage unfurls inside of me. She left me to possibly die in here after murdering me once already. My eyes lock on hers, and I watch with petty satisfaction as her expression morphs into shock. Behind me, a massive line of freed spirits comes into view, their glow lighting up the tree line.

I am finished with being deceived by powerful creatures.

I am not helpless, and I will fight back.

I take a step forward, now fully exiting the forest.

“I don’t know what kind of sick and twisted game you think you’re playing, but you will never do this to me again.” My voice shakes from the shock starting to take over, but I’m not finished.

I take another step, and without hesitation, the line of spirits behind me, who have been magically contained in the forest by Morgana for who knows how long, step out behind me.

Whatever magic she had over them is no more.

Seeing the spirits leave the forest, Sin shifts, subtly placing himself between me and Morgana. The move sends a pulse of satisfaction through me.

I am not powerless.

“The forsaken are no longer yours to command.” I don’t shout the phrase, but I watch as the blood drains from Morgana’s face. She heard me.

I cup my hands to my mouth, helping to project my voice. “I release you from this place! Go and be free!”

With my words, the silvery lights from the spirits blink out, one by one, as they disappear, moving on to wherever they need to be.

I never break eye contact with Morgana, who now looks terrified, as I slowly make my way towards her. Rage still simmers in my veins.

Sin doesn’t move from his protective stance, and I hear him ask, “What is she?”

Morgana swallows before answering, “I have no idea.”

I’m limping up the hill when two heavy bodies collide with me, arms tucking around me on either side. Damien and Magnus plaster themselves against me, helping me walk. I stiffen at the contact but then let myself lean on them. It helps ease the sting in my leg.

I try not to think about the arms pressing against the gashes on my back.

“Easy, little enigma,” Magnus whispers as we move together. “It seems you may have a little scratch,” he notes, making light of the blood that coats most of my body.

Sin glares at us but moves back to Morgana’s side.

I guess I don’t look like a threat anymore.

Shame.

“What did you do to them?” Morgana’s voice trembles, and she’s matching my anger now.

Good, we’re all angry.

Damien’s hand squeezes my shoulder in a comforting gesture. I try not to black out from the pain. I guess there’s a scratch there, too.

“I freed them,” I grit out.

“That – that’s not possible,” Morgana answers.

She looks devastated. Maybe she thinks I killed them. The thought immediately cools my anger.

“I’ve been doing it for years,” I answer honestly. “They’re trapped, and it sucks the humanity out of them. I release them from their ties so they can finally find peace. There are similar creatures in my realm.”

Morgana nods, frowning. “I don’t know what you are. I’ve never heard of such a power before. To free spirits and to almost split realms, it’s unheard of.”

Sin cuts in, “That wasn’t the same energy signature she had last night.”

I shrug. “The other power only started after I met Leon.”

“Do they know? About this power?” Morgana asks, sounding concerned.

I shake my head, starting to feel dizzy. Blood loss is fun like that.

Sin notices. “She needs medical attention.”

He steps forward, and I give him my best ‘No shit, Sherlock’ expression.

Morgana stops him, grasping Sin’s arm. “Magnus and Damien, patch her up. Sin, we need to talk.”

They apparate away without another word.

I ignore the tiniest hint of disappointment that hits when they leave.

Damien turns to me. “So, red, how about we go back to the castle so we can look at those papercuts?”

I choke out a laugh, still feeling woozy.

“Yeah, sure. I must have tripped and scraped my knee,” I answer lightly.

We apparate back into the sitting room where I found them earlier. I hadn’t realized the two were together like that. My cheeks heat, realizing I may have interrupted an intimate moment between them when I barged in.

“Sorry about derailing your evening,” I say as Damien walks me over to a lounge chair, and Magnus steps out to grab some first aid supplies.

Damien smiles, and I can’t help but notice how he lights up the entire room. He just has this energy about him; he practically glows.

“No need to be sorry, red. You’re more entertaining than anything we had planned. But we weren’t thrilled to learn that Morgana left you in the forest,” he answers.

“We wanted to escort you back out,” Magnus calls as he re-enters the room with towels, water, and a small case. “But Morgana said she’d have the forsaken slit our throats the moment we set foot in the woods.”

He puts the supplies down and kneels, inspecting my leg. He tuts, lightly prodding at the torn flesh. I bite my lip to stop from screaming.

Damien joins him and gives an exaggerated sigh, “This isn’t how I pictured this happening, but red, we need to take your pants off.”

Magnus grins. “It was only a matter of time until she gave in to our charms.”

I roll my eyes but use the lounge chair to help pull myself up. Magnus is there in an instant, helping me stand. I laugh at their antics. “I bet you two come on to all the kidnap victims that are beaten up here.”

If I ever get to see Conner again, I’m going to push aside my aversion to physical affection and hug him. This situation would be utterly mortifying if it weren’t for his desensitization to male attention.

Damien works the belt off my thigh slowly, and blood starts to return to my leg. Black circles line the edges of my vision from the pain.

“Easy, little enigma, we’ve got you,” Magnus whispers into the shell of my ear as his arm tightens around my waist.

I’m grateful for the support because my knees are weak.

“To clarify,” I hiss through the pain. “I think you’re both great, but I’m really not looking for anything at the moment. I have enough boy drama.”

I look down at Damien, and he winks, loosening the belt a little more. “Understood, red.”

Magnus’ whisper comes again, “But perhaps you’ll allow us to distract you while we get you patched up.”

Damien finishes opening the belt, and the full pressure of blood returning to my leg makes me lightheaded.

“I thought – aren’t you two a thing?” I ask, confused.

“We enjoy each other’s company,” Magnus notes.

“And we especially enjoy sharing,” Damien adds, his hands coming to the waist of my pants.

“Oh boy,” I whisper. My cheeks heat, and warmth uncurls in my stomach at the thought.

My brain mustn’t be firing properly because I’m considering their offer. Magnus and Damien are both attractive and while I’m not feeling any toe-curling passionate fireworks towards them, I’m not entirely put off either.

Maybe I’m not as broken as I thought.

I think about what Sarah would say if I asked her for advice and almost laugh at what would be the most enthusiastic agreement of all time.

“Sure, why not?” I answer, shrugging.

I’ve only ever been intimate with a man I was magically spelled to want. It would probably be helpful to try being intimate with someone without magical coercion.

For educational purposes, of course.

Damien starts working my pants down as gently as possible, and Magnus licks a trail up my neck. Goosebumps erupt on my skin everywhere his forked tongue touches.

“She’s lucid,” Magnus says. “I can taste it on her.”

Damien groans as he realizes I’m bare underneath the pants.

I didn’t plan on becoming an advocate for going commando, but no one put any kind of underwear in my room. I’m working with what I’ve got.

He finishes slipping off my pants and prods at the fully exposed scratches again. I wince, and Magnus responds by placing hot kisses against my neck. It distracts me a little from the pain, and I’m grateful.

“So, are you both mortal, too?” I ask, breathless.

This is probably not the best time for small talk. But their heated touches are bringing back memories of Leon touching me the same way. Memories of pain, fog, and lust, all so tangled that they leave me feeling cold, and I’m desperate to drown them out.

I need to do this. I need to push through the rising panic in my throat and not let Leon be my only memory of being intimate. Otherwise, he’ll still be controlling me, and I refuse to give him that power.

I am in control.

Damien answers as his hand slips between my thighs, reaching for the back of my injured one, “Not at all. Snake shifters can live for generations, and I –” he pauses as his hand grazes my center before lifting the back of my thigh so that my leg is propped up on his knee, “I’m a descendant of the Angelic Realm. Immortality is one of the few perks.”

I inhale sharply at the intimate contact, but Damien pulls back as the cuts start oozing blood more quickly.

“We need to get her sitting back down,” Damien calls.

Somewhere between the blood loss and their touch, the panic in my throat starts to subside.

Magnus gently lowers me onto the lounge, resting my back against the headrest. “We’ve been alive for a long time.”

Why does that sound provocative? Am I into older men? Is that it?

Magnus kneels next to Damien on the floor and gently pulls my thighs open, settling between them. More heat floods me at the sight.

Magnus gives a quick nod, lowering his head, just as Damien presses a hot towel to my leg. I scream, but Magnus is already in position, placing hot kisses against my inner thigh and working his way up. The sensation has my scream fading into a breathless squeak.

If this is medical care, I’m happy to give these people all my tax dollars.

“Easy, little enigma,” he pauses his kisses to whisper, “We’ll take very good care of you.” His mouth inches closer to my center as Damien applies another hot towel.

I squeeze my eyes shut at the pain, only to startle when their touches are replaced by cold air. I blink, only to find Damien and Magnus are crumpled against the back wall. They’re both staggering to get up. But I’m quickly distracted by the giant warlord-looking man standing in front of me.

Sin looks ready to commit murder. His tattoos glow a deep and bright red, and even his eyes hold the glow. I snap my legs closed, not wanting to give him a bigger show than I already have.

His voice is low, and there’s a dangerous edge to it, “You were told to heal her. What the fuck are you doing, touching her?”

Magnus stands, helping Damien up. They look annoyed.

“We are healing her,” Damien snaps.

“We are simply providing some pain relief in the process,” Magnus adds.

Sin’s jaw works, and his eye twitches.

“Out,” he whispers.

“But…” Damien starts to argue.

Sin doesn’t raise his voice, “For as long as she is my partner, you will not touch her. Do not test my good nature.”

Magnus rolls his eyes before placing his arm around Damien and giving me a final wink as they head out of the room. “Until next time, little enigma.”

Sin growls, but it isn’t enough to mask Damien’s complaint. “Typical possessive Destroyers. They never share.”

Their voices fade, and it’s just me and Sin.

Only Sin is wearing pants. I think that puts me at a disadvantage. I shift, placing my hands in front of the junction of my thighs in a last-ditch attempt at modesty.

Sin’s eyes track the movement, and his gaze grows heated before he notices the blood on my leg and glares at me. “Would you care to explain why you are half-naked?”

I huff, “It’s not rocket science.”

Sin growls again.

I roll my eyes at his display. “What else am I supposed to do? I don’t have any underwear here, Sin. I’m working with what I’ve got.”

Sin narrows his eyes before grabbing a hot towel and placing it on the cut. He pushes on it, making me hiss from the pain. “Hold this, apply pressure, and don’t move,” he orders before apparating out of the room.

He’s back a second later, throwing a pair of lace booty shorts at me. I catch them and gasp, “These are mine! Sin, what the hell are you doing with my underwear?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Sin answers.

I glare at him, pulling my leg away, when he steps closer.

Sin rolls his eyes as if I’m the biggest inconvenience in the world. “I was in your realm tonight, gathering some of your things. I figured you might want them after you decided to stay.”

“I –” I pause, shell-shocked. “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you.”

Sin nods to the underwear. “Can you get them on?” he snaps impatiently.

I nod, leaning forward, but wince as the action puts more pressure on my injured thigh, causing the cuts to bleed more.

Sin’s sigh is so strong it could probably knock over a small house as he reaches over, snatches the underwear, and gently threads my legs into them. He doesn’t make eye contact as he mumbles, “Fates grant me strength.”

Rude.

I know I’m covered in blood and dirt, but he doesn’t have to sound so offended at having to touch me.

“Look, if this is too uncomfortable for you, just send Magnus and Damien back in. I’m sure they can finish the job,” I snap, my cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

Sin’s eyes snap back to mine, and his hand reaches under my non-injured thigh, tightening before lifting my hips.

“Let me be clear, kitten,” he says, his eyes darkening. “While we’re working together, I am the only one you’ll be finishing with.”

Chapter 20

Rule twenty: When in doubt, flash your enemies.

An outraged gasp gets caught in my throat as Sin finishes pulling up my underwear. His hands graze my ass, and they feel like a brand.

This is it. I’ve bled out. That’s the only reason I’m enjoying Sin’s hands on me. But then he releases me, snapping me out of the blood-loss daze.

“That’s not your choice,” I snap back.

I’m so over being bossed around by men.

Sin just laughs, and the sound goes straight to my core. I try to kick him with my non-injured leg, but he catches my foot easily as his other hand reaches for the cloth on my injured leg.

“Easy kitten, you’re just going to hurt yourself some more. Do I need to knock you out while I sew you back together?” he asks, his thumb rubbing circles on my calf.

I blanch. “Please don’t.”

Sin frowns. “You need stitches, these are too deep and –”

“Sew me up, but don’t knock me out,” I correct him, trying to ignore my panicked heartbeat.

Sin almost looks hurt as he nods and releases my leg. “I would never–”

“No, no!” I backtrack. “That’s not it at all. I just – I don’t want magic influencing my brain anymore. It scares me,” I admit.

It’s the full truth. The thought that I went days with magic influencing my thoughts still haunts me. It’s not something I ever want to experience again.

Sin nods, understanding.

“This is going to hurt,” he notes as he opens the small case Magnus brought in.

My eyes lock onto the needle and thread, and I swallow. Sin picks up the supplies and glances up at me for permission before starting.

“Do it,” I whisper.

Holy fuck.

I feel sorry for any pants I ever hemmed. The feeling of thread pulling through my skin is nauseating, and I lay back, squeezing my eyes shut. I need a distraction.

“This sucked less when Magnus and Damien were here,” I grumble.

Pissing off Sin is a solid distraction. I peek and notice the faint glow that pulses through Sin’s tattoos.

Mission accomplished.

His gaze hardens, but he says nothing.

“Hey, warlord wannabe, you could at least talk to me,” I huff.

Sin quirks an eyebrow as he pauses from his task to look up at me. My pulse picks up at the sight, and I’m blaming it on my injuries.

“Why would I want to do that?” he asks mildly before going back to sewing me up.

I bite the inside of my cheek at the pain before gritting out, “You kicked out my distractions. You could at least try to take my mind off what you’re doing.”

His mouth quirks up with the hint of a smile. “What do you want to talk about?”

I purse my lips, wondering what to ask him. “What did Morgana want to talk to you about? She seemed a little upset.”

Sin ties off the first set of stitches and gets to work on the second scratch.

It’s very inconsiderate of forsaken to have five fingers.

His voice is low but not angry when he answers, “Morgana has looked after the forsaken for three thousand years. And now they’re gone – who knows where. We checked the forest. There were hundreds of thousands of them spread throughout. They’re all gone. You effectively wiped out the Shadow Realm’s standing army.”

I think of the silver bubble that projected out from me, only to come blasting back. It must have freed them all.

“It serves her right for leaving me in there,” I grumble.

Another scratch is patched, and Sin moves on to the third. “Morgana is very direct. She doesn’t hesitate to do what she thinks is right. When we heard the forest go silent, we apparated to the edge, listening for any signs of distress. You weren’t abandoned, only meant to think you were. It’s brutal but effective.”

I hiss when Sin stabs a little deeper. “Sorry,” he mutters, working on closing the wound.

I go back to squeezing my eyes shut. Every prod of the needle is becoming agonizing. Did this realm not invent those freezing needles?

“So, Morgana has been around for a while,” I note. “Have you both worked together for that long?”

Sin moves on to the fourth scratch. Almost there.

I try to forget about the blood running down my back and my arm.

“I was changed into a Destroyer a little over two thousand five hundred years ago. Morgana has been my Keeper ever since,” he answers.

Sin is focused on his task, and I mull over whether I should ask if they have a lover’s bond. From what Rosie was saying, I don’t think they do. But it might be good to know.

It’s intel gathering. Know your enemy and such.

But I have no idea how to ask without sounding like I’m interested.

“So, are you two together?” I ask.

Smooth, Vivian. Very smooth.

Sin pauses again to look up at me. From the look on his face, I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m interested.

I’m definitely going to be needing that time-share in Hell.

“I just want to understand more about the bonds,” I rush out.

His eyebrow does that thing where it quirks up again, and Sin just shakes his head at me, looking like he might laugh, before getting to work on cut number five.

“Morgana is my family. When the Council took me, I wanted to fight, to burn them to the ground for what they’d done. She convinced me to work with her so we could bring them down for good. She reminded me of my older sister, and the role stuck,” he answers.

My brows furrows. “What do you mean, they took you? I thought Destroyers and Creators were prestigious volunteer positions for rich people.”

Sin laughs darkly. “For the Creators, yes. But they didn’t want such noble breeding for their Destroyers. My family lived in one of the lower villages of the Otherworld, well away from the Council. We had a modest life. My parents were farmers, and my sister and I helped out where we could. When we fell into debt, I started working for the black market. I always had a gift for convincing people to do what I wanted.”

He ties off the last stitch and starts adding a bandage over it. “I was away one week on a job, and when I returned, Council soldiers were there, burning my village to the ground. They executed everyone. It turns out rebels had been hiding out nearby, and the Council wanted to send a message. Any village found hiding rebels would burn.”

He finishes bandaging my leg and stands. “My employers from the black market were there, working with the Council guards to ensure their own safety. Once they saw me, they traded me, convincing the guards I had powers of manipulation. And the rest is history,” he says as he places the dirty tools in a bowl.

I gingerly prod at the bandage before standing. I can put weight on it, and I’m grateful. Bracing myself against the lounge chair, I answer, “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

I don’t feel pity for Sin; I’m sad for his loss. I hope he sees the difference.

Sin nods brusquely and answers, “It was a long time ago.”

I nod, getting the sense that he probably wants to change the subject. I think about how Conner and Isaac cracked jokes after I almost drowned to lighten the mood. I don’t think a joke would be appropriate right about now, but I could probably distract Sin with more injuries to treat.

My back is still aching from the other scratches, and I start to pull off my shirt, intent on ensuring they don’t need stitches as well.

Sin’s response is immediate. “Kitten, what the fuck,” he growls, stepping forward to grab my hands and yanking my shirt back down.

I fight against him for a second. But he has a firm grip.

My ego is totally okay with the fact that Sin is appalled at the thought of me undressing.

Still, mission accomplished because he doesn’t look sad anymore, and the vibe in the room has completely changed.

Yes, the vibe is sexual harassment. As in, Sin likely thinks I’m sexually harassing him.

I stop fighting him and sigh, “Don’t flatter yourself.” I echo his words right back at him. “There’s another scratch going down my back. I can feel the blood still dripping.” I lock eyes with him, feeling smug at his thunderstruck expression. “Unless you’re ready to send back Magnus and Damien, I’m going to need to take my shirt off.”

Finally.

Finally, I feel like I have the mic drop moment with this man.

Sin doesn’t let me go, but steps closer. Gently, he turns me so I’m facing away from him.

He starts peeling up my shirt, and I bite down the whimper that wants to come out. The fabric is stuck to some of the smaller scratches that have dried up. The cuts open again as Sin slowly takes my shirt off.

He’s close enough that I can feel the heat of him against my thin booty shorts. I clench my thighs together at the sensation, hoping Sin doesn’t notice. He pulls my shirt over my head but doesn’t touch me again.

“Lay down on your stomach.” Sin’s voice comes above my ear, sounding more gruff than usual.

I notice his hands are fisted at his sides as he waits for me to obey. I take a second to look over my shoulder at him, wondering if he’s gone back to being angry. He’s only inches from me, and I have to crane my neck to see his face.

He looks like he’s in pain. My mortal cooties must be driving him crazy.

“You don’t have to keep patching me up. I don’t mind. I’m sure a hot shower will sort me out,” I start, trying to give him a pass out of here.

I like annoying Sin, but I feel bad if he’s this uncomfortable.

At my comment, Sin mutters something about the universe having a sick sense of humor before his hands come around my waist, and he lifts me onto the lounge chair.

I yelp, landing on my hands and knees and quickly lie down to cover myself. Sin lets out another blistering sigh.

“You don’t have to be so upset about it; I’m only trying to help,” I grumble, turning my head to frown at him.

Sin kneels next to the lounge chair, his fingers gently prodding at the scratches. “If you want to help, stop getting beaten up.”

I scoff. “Like it’s my fault.”

Sin reaches for another towel and soaks it in hot water. He starts cleaning the cuts, and I hiss.

“It’s your fault you let yourself be vulnerable to attack,” he mutters, continuing to clean me up.

The sting is fading, and I close my eyes. He finishes cleaning my back and moves to the injuries on my shoulder and arm. His fingers trail over the scars that pepper my skin, causing goosebumps to run down my body.

I fight my immediate urge to cover them up. Whatever, he’s seen them at this point.

If he thinks the scars are hideous, that’s a him problem.

“So, tell me, kitten,” Sin continues cleaning my shoulder, but his other hand trails up to the back of my neck, his thumb brushing a scar just below my ear. “Who did this to you?”

A shiver runs down my back, and I bite my lower lip, wondering how much I want to say. Sin was honest with me about his family, and I also want to be forthcoming. Since we’re going to be working together, we may as well find a way to get along.

I open my eyes to find Sin crouched in front of me, his expression schooled to be mild. But his mask isn’t enough to hide the red glow coming off him. He’s not calm at all.

“I was blamed for a death in my hometown when I was a teenager. In return, some kids tied me to a tree and…” I start, trying to give enough of the story to be honest, but not wanting to go through the pain of remembering that night.

But Sin shakes his head. “That’s not what I asked you. I know what they did to you. I just need to know who.”

I frown at him. “How would you know what they did to me?”

“You already know we were keeping an eye on you to make sure you survived long enough to find Leon,” he answers before squeezing the back of my neck lightly. “Now I want names, kitten.”

I pull away from his grip, and Sin lets me go immediately.

“What do you mean, keeping an eye on me? I thought you only found me when I found Leon. How did you even know I was reborn? And you watched them attack me?” My voice picks up, and I can’t stop the betrayal that bleeds through.

I might not be on the best of terms with Sin, but I thought he was a better man than this. Better than letting a near child suffer that kind of pain.

Sin sees the hurt in my eyes and he looks crestfallen. “I didn’t find you in time to stop them. By the time I found you, it was dark, and you were still tied to the tree.”

My eyes widen, realization dawning. “It was you. The thing that growled in the woods.”

I remember it vividly, the menacing sound that led me to break my thumb in order to slip free from the ropes.

Sin nods. “I was furious. We weren’t supposed to interfere with you unless your life was in danger. I would have untied you, but you freed yourself.”

I’m still frowning as I try to piece it all together. “Who told you not to interfere? How did you find me?”

Sin runs a hand through his hair. “About five years ago, a spirit was sent to Morgana. She brought a message warning us that you’d been reborn. She showed us where to find you. The spirit had already been instructed to watch out for you, but we were asked to watch out for you as well in case you needed extra protection.”

“Why? Why did I need so much protection? And who sent the spirit?”

I don’t need to ask who the spirit was. I already know it was the ghost girl in the odd robes.

Sin continues, “You needed to be protected in case the Council found you. And…” he pauses, trying to find the right words, “the person who sent the spirit to Morgana knew that her sisters would try to kill you. The night you were attacked, the spirit found me and signalled to me that you were in danger. I came immediately.”

I swallow, getting the feeling that I really don’t want to know the answer to my next question.

“Who sent the spirit? Why did a ghost keep trying to save my life?” I ask, my voice shaking.

Sin sighs. “Her name is Clotho.”

I frown, trying to place where I’ve heard the name before, but Sin continues, “But you know her as one of the Fates.”

Chapter 21

Rule twenty-one: If someone is hunting you, uno reverse them.

I’ve never had a roommate before, and after the last two minutes of my life, I would have preferred if it had stayed that way. It’s barely dawn, and I’m trying to hide under my blankets as the psychopath from across the hall insists I get up.

“I told you to get your ass out of bed and get dressed,” Sin growls as he towers over my bed.

I respond by pulling the blankets even more tightly over my head. When Sin finished patching me up last night, he apparated us into my room so that I landed directly on my bed, still lying on my stomach. It was already completely dark, and I was grateful for not needing to move around with my injuries.

Of course, Sin then had to go and whisper above my ear that he’d be just across the hall and to call him if I needed him, promising he’d hear me. While I’m sure he only meant it in a platonic partner kind of way, my imagination ran wild. The only way I eventually fell asleep was by reminding myself that the man was disgusted by me and that I needed to avoid sexually harassing my partner.

The lack of sleep is not helping my current situation. Sin apparated into my room a few minutes ago, telling me we were training and ordering me to get ready.

Given the fact that my leg and back are throbbing, and the man entered my room without knocking, I’m not feeling too agreeable. “And I told you, no. It’s a complete sentence, Sin.”

“Either you get up and get yourself dressed, or so help me, kitten, I’ll dress you myself,” Sin growls.

I cackle, the sound muffled by his stolen blanket. That’s rich coming from a man who looked ready to bolt at having to treat my injuries last night. I’m not concerned that he’d voluntarily touch me.

I hear Sin grumbling as the chest at the end of my bed is opened, and things start landing on the floor.

Rolling my eyes, I call out, “I get that you are super eager to be my partner, but I’ve checked with my union, and I’m entitled to a day off after injuring myself on the job.”

Honestly, I feel like that’s a pretty clever response, especially since I haven’t had any coffee yet.

Sin responds by ripping the blankets off me and tossing them to the corner of the room. I yelp, scrambling to cover myself. I’m still only in a pair of booty shorts.

Sin rolls his eyes and stares at the top of my head. He tosses some clothes at me before gritting out, “Five minutes, kitten. You have five minutes before I come back.”

“And what happens if I crawl back under the blankets?” I challenge as I grab the clothes he just threw at me.

I usually have a strict filter for interacting with others. I weigh every word, constantly trying to decide what the right thing to say is. But Sin pushes me past that point. I don’t care if I tell him the right thing because I’ve decided he is the bane of my existence, and I want to keep him that way.

Sin’s eyes leave the top of my head, and he takes a moment to eye me up and down. I’m shocked at his heated expression.

That doesn’t look like disgust.

He smirks before answering, “Crawl back into that bed, and I’ll un-exist it and make you sleep with me tonight.” He takes a step back and adds, “I mean it. Dress yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”

I don’t get the chance to snap at him because just as the words leave his mouth, he apparates from the room. I’m left blinking and stupefied. Not just because of Sin’s threats but because of what I see, now that I’m not focused on the warlord-wannabe.

There, against the wall, are my bookshelves, stuffed full to the brim and bowing under the weight of my books. My dresser is here, too, directly across from my bed. My throw pillows are scattered around the floor, and my quilts are folded neatly by the foot of the bed.

My stuff.

Sin said he’d returned to my realm to get some of my things so I’d be more comfortable. But I never imagined…

Squealing, I jump out of bed, ignoring the pain in my leg, to go to my books. I pick one up and hug it.

I don’t care if it’s weird. I have an emotional attachment to my books.

Skipping over to my dresser, I pull open the drawers, thrilled that everything is still in them.

When I head to the bathroom, I squeal again at the sight of my toiletries.

It’s amazing what a few familiar things will do for a person. The only thing I’m missing now are Sarah, Conner, and Isaac. But the further away they are from me, the safer they will be. Especially now that I know the Fates are messing with my life.

That latest bit of information is more anxiety-inducing than I’m ready to cope with.

A knock at the door distracts me from my joyful reunion with my belongings. “Three minutes, kitten.”

Instead of snapping at him, I bite back my words and hustle to get ready. Sin might be a monumental pain in my ass, but he also brought me my books. For that, I’ll try to be on my best behavior today.

Pulling on my fighting leathers, I wince when they rub against the wounds. Luckily, the ones on my back and shoulder weren’t deep enough to warrant stitches, and after sleeping on my stomach in only my underwear, they’ve scabbed over. I’m ninety percent sure the scabs are now bleeding again, but the fresh clothing hide any evidence of that.

I make a mental note to check my toiletries later for some disinfectant.

I’m saved from figuring out whether five minutes have passed because the second my weapons are sheathed, Sin apparates behind me, hooking an arm around my waist, and then apparates us outside.

Shaking off his hold, I turn to glare at his self-satisfied smirk. “Was that necessary?” I grit out.

“Your leg is injured. Would you prefer I carried you down the stairs?” he drawls.

I flush. “You wouldn’t.”

The devilish gleam that crosses his face is enough to tell me that he wouldn’t hesitate to do such a thing, and it makes me forget that I was planning on being nice to him.

I roll my eyes. “So, you admit I shouldn’t be walking down the stairs, but you want me training anyway?”

He smirks. “Enemies won’t care that you’re injured. You need to fight through the pain.”

I huff but then remember how debilitated I was by the pain that wracked through me with Leon. Swallowing thickly, I nod. “You’re right.”

Sin’s eyes narrow, as if he’s trying to figure out what changed my mind, before shaking his head and looking away. “You won’t be able to move around too much today. Otherwise, you’ll open your stitches, so we’ll be focusing on strengthening your body and honing your other instincts.”

While none of those things sound appealing, I grit my teeth and do as I’m told. Sin takes me through a series of warmups and then has me doing all kinds of strength training until I think every one of my muscles is trembling.

Less than an hour into training, I collapse onto the sand. “I can’t – no more. That’s as strong as I’m going to get today.”

Sin towers over me and rolls his eyes at my dramatics. “We’ve barely started.”

“You seriously overestimate how much exercise I did in the Mortal Realm,” I wheeze.

His jaw works as he stares down at me. I think he’s deciding whether to grant me a reprieve or not. I cross my fingers in hopes that he will take pity on me.

“Fine,” he acquiesces. “We’ll move on to the next portion of the training.”

At my answering groan, he smiles. “I’m giving you a ten-minute head-start. Avoid me for the next hour, and you can have the rest of the day off.”

Sin offers me his hand, and I blink at him repeatedly, trying to process what he’s proposing.

“I – Wait, you want to play hide and seek?” I ask a bit incredulously as I ignore his hand and struggle to stand on my own.

Sin’s expression darkens as he answers, “There might come a time when I need you to run and hide. I need to know that you won’t panic or get caught.”

I shake my head. “This is ridiculous. The castle is huge. If you’re ready to give me the day off, just do it. We don’t need to play a children’s game.”

At my words, he stalks over to me, his movements becoming deliberate. “Don’t assume I’m going to be relying on the same senses you have.”

He only stops when he’s inches away from me. “I know your scent, kitten. I know the signature of your energy, and I know the castle. Underestimating your opponent is how you get killed.”

I swallow. Whatever playful tone he just held is gone.

“What happens if you find me?” I ask warily.

His eyes sweep down my body. “What happens when a predator catches their prey?”

My eyes widen, and Sin gives me a wicked grin.

“Run,” he whispers.

I bolt.

Panic floods my senses. The stitches in my leg scream as I hurry around the side of the castle, heading for the front doors.

No part of me thinks Sin was alluding to becoming a cannibal. There’s no mistaking the sexual undertone of his threat. And from the way heat coils in my lower belly at that thought, I need to make sure he doesn’t get the chance to try.

Sin is my partner. He’s also a walking cesspool of toxicity, and my traitorous vagina needs to get a grip.

I reach the large wooden doors but pause before ripping them open.

Something isn’t adding up.

Use your damn head, Vivian.

Sin had every opportunity to make sexual advances on me last night when I was wearing far less clothing. Why would he all of a sudden be thinking about touching me now?

The answer has me both embarrassed and relieved.

He wouldn’t.

Sin wants me to panic. He expects me to run blindly, just like I might if I ever need to hide from an opponent.

I take a deep inhale, not touching the door. Instead, I step back, scanning the castle. If Sin can follow my scent, it will be far too easy for him to track me if I’m inside. I need to stay out here, where any trace of me won’t be constrained to a small room.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I look around, brainstorming. If I did go indoors, I don’t think Sin would expect me to hide in his room. But after the threat he made about me entering that space, I have no intention of setting foot in there, ever.

My eyes sweep up to the castle’s third floor, locking on a single, small balcony. Sin’s balcony.

That could work.

The smooth stones of Morgana’s castle offer little in the way of climbing handholds, but I can work around that. When Damien and I did our morning runs, I had a lot of time to become acquainted with my surroundings. And while most of Rosie’s plants are kept in the garden, she also has a huge vine that has since grown against one of the castle walls.

My adrenaline pumps full force as I silently move along the wall, hoping I don’t make any sounds that might carry to Sin.

The vines snake all the way up a turret on the far left side of the castle. The vine’s base is as thick as a softball, giving me hope that it will be strong enough to hold me.

Ignoring the burning in my arms from Sin’s workout and my injuries, I start climbing. Thankfully, the vines are solid and don’t come with razor-sharp thorns. The castle is only three stories high, but the turret stretches far above the third floor. Unfortunately for me, the vines don’t twist all the way around the turret here, and I have to angle my body over to the roof, stretching to get my toes on the slippery metal.

This is a stupid idea. If I slip, I’ll break my neck.

But I’m low on time, and I know my hiding spot is perfect. So, instead of overthinking my next move, I push myself off the turret, throwing my weight onto the slightly slanted roof. There are about two seconds where I wobble, and my balance falters, but I manage to steady myself.

Quietly exhaling, I gingerly pad along the roof, not making a sound. I head for Sin’s balcony, quietly reminding myself I’m not afraid of heights. Once I’m directly above it, I lay down, making myself as small as possible.

Not even a minute later I hear Sin call out, “Ready or not, here I come.”

I don’t dare look over the ledge to watch him enter the castle but let myself breathe a sigh of relief when I hear him go inside.

A slow grin spreads across my face, and I shift so that I’m crouched over the edge of the roof, just over his balcony. If Sin does check here, there’s a good chance he’ll find me. But I’m ready for him.

I am not prey.

I start counting the seconds in my head to get an idea of how much time I have left. Twenty minutes pass without any hint of him until I finally hear Sin’s door open.

It’s time.

Another minute and his balcony door opens, just beneath me. Sin steps out, and without giving him a chance to sense me, I drop from the roof. In the next heartbeat, I’m on his back, with my legs wrapped around his waist, and my dagger is pressed against his neck.

At the feel of my blade, Sin goes completely still.

“I win,” I whisper in his ear before slipping off him.

I stand tall, triumphant in my victory. Sin turns, his eyes scanning the roof, before understanding dawns on him.

“Clever girl,” he notes, looking impressed.

I grin back. “And I didn’t enter your room.”

His pupils flare before he backs up, crossing his arms and looking smug. “I see that. Though I’m very curious to see how you plan on leaving to enjoy your afternoon off.”

My grin falters as I scan his balcony. Even if I stand on the railing, there’s no way I’ll be able to reach the roof. I look at his room, my spine stiffening.

Nope, not going that way.

I walk to the balcony ledge and lean against it, shrugging. “Someone will notice I’m not around. At some point, Magnus or Damien will go outside, and I’ll ask them to apparate me.”

Sin’s mouth quirks up in a corner at my answer. “Say you’ll train more after we eat, and I’ll apparate us out.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Food. We’re eating food at the table in the dining room.”

Am I being paranoid that he’s adding subtle sexual connotations to his words?

Absolutely.

But in my defense, the man has seen me nearly naked too many times over the last twenty-four hours and has made enough sexual innuendos that I’m suddenly questioning if he’s as repulsed by me as I think he is.

If Sin and I are going to be partners for the foreseeable future, then I need us to build a professional relationship. Otherwise, this entire endeavor will get very messy, very quickly.

How hard can it be?

Sin pushes off the wall, and there’s a playfulness to him that catches me off guard as he approaches me. “Such a dirty mind, kitten,” he teases as he takes my hand. But instead of apparating us to the dining room right away, he yanks on me, pulling me into him. His mouth ghosts across my ear as he adds, “And don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t spread you open over that table and devour you.”

And then we apparate out.

Chapter 22

Rule twenty-two: Do not report your partner to human resources.

The next few days go by in a blur of sweat. Sin has taken over all my training, and unlike the others who were more than happy to have me flitting between them during the day, he does not share my time. I’m kept busy from sunup to sundown and always at his side. The only time I see the others is at mealtimes, and even then, I’m so exhausted that I barely pay attention to their banter.

After my first ‘easy’ training day, Sin started pushing me harder in the arena. When I hold back, he’s relentless in pissing me off until I give everything I have. He isn’t particularly nice about it, but I know he’s doing it to keep me alive. In those moments, I think of him more as a vaccine.

Just another necessary prick.

At least our working relationship is becoming somewhat less toxic. Sin hasn’t called me a whore since the day I got my memories back. And I’ve committed to keeping things professional, not wanting to sexually harass him again.

Of course, that doesn’t mean Sin has stopped sexually harassing me. He hasn’t cut back on making sexually charged comments. If anything, I think he’s gotten worse. When I tried to lodge a complaint with my human resources representative (Morgana), Sin had me doing sit-ups for an hour, lecturing me about solving my own problems. When I asked him why his hormones were my problem, he threw me around extra hard in the arena. He wasn’t even remotely grateful when I offered him a tampon.

Sad.

Despite Sin’s general moodiness, I’ve now seen him laugh twice. The first was when I told him I’d stab him in the eye if he made me do any more planks. The second was when I was supposed to tackle him, and I took a second to warn him that this might hurt. He laughed hard after that.

Insulting? Yes.

But after going through years of solitude and finally making friends who made me laugh all the time, I’m not ready to lose that. Especially since Sin and I are set to be partners for the foreseeable future. I’ve made it my mission to break through his walls and make him laugh.

If he’s a vaccine, then I’m determined to be an incurable plague.

I’ll wear him down.

Mercifully, Sin has drawn the line at making me run since my leg is still healing. Damien has also stopped coming to my door to wake me up for our morning runs, and I’m not bringing it up with him. I assume it’s because my leg has a giant gash across it. Unfortunately, that means I have the warlord-wannabe invading my personal space every morning.

He’s here now, tossing a knife and catching it as he leans against the wall beside my dresser. He took one look at me after apparating into my room and has been staring at my floor ever since. I assume it might have something to do with the lace bralette I’m wearing. I threw the blankets over me the second he arrived, but I’m guessing he caught a peek because he’s back to looking uncomfortable. And honestly, it serves him right for refusing to believe in boundaries.

“The Mortal Realm has this thing called weekends,” I argue. “I have been working non-stop since getting here, and I want a day off.”

Sin’s jaw flexes, and he tosses the knife again. “You are going to be fighting supernatural creatures much more powerful than you. You need to get stronger.”

“And if you don’t give me a break, I’m going to burn out,” I argue.

My body is screaming this morning, with knots appearing in places I didn’t realize existed.

“Burning out is better than death. Stop being a whiny princess,” he counters.

I throw a pillow at him. He dodges it easily, smirking. “See, you’re still slow.”

“Just the morning then. Please?” I’m not above begging at this point. I want a long hot shower and coffee instead of jumping right into training.

Sin’s jaw works, and I think I might actually get what I want. But then he starts shaking his head and I snap.

“Sin, I am going to get up and take a relaxing, hot shower, and unless you want to watch, you are going to leave my room. Now.” I grip the blankets as if to pull them off, to drive home the threat.

At my words, Sin’s eyes flare, and a ghost of an unreadable emotion crosses his face. But then I blink, and he’s gone.

Was it an empty threat?

Absolutely.

But even with his sexually charged comments, I think Sin is all talk. The moment we are in a potentially compromising position, he backs off or looks uncomfortable. I can’t be sure, but I think he uses the sexual comments to rile me up. It’s annoyingly effective, so I’m proud of myself for finally throwing it back at him.

I’m going to call the strategy ‘tactical nudity.’

After a deliciously long shower, I dress in my own clothes rather than the fighting leathers that Sin keeps me in all day. I choose a deep green A-line skirt and a loose-fitting cream blouse. It’s sleeveless, and I usually avoid wearing it, but with the scratches on my arm and shoulder, I don’t want fabric getting stuck to them.

I slip into some black ballet flats to complete my outfit. And I don’t miss my chance to put on underwear. I dig through my collection, settling on a tan bra and lacy matching thong.

No more advocating for going commando. I’m proud of my underwear addiction.

Feeling light and happy, I skip down the stairs to breakfast. Sure, my world is still a dumpster fire. But I celebrate the little things.

My smile crashes when I swing into the dining room.

Rosie is crying, and Damien is trying to comfort her. Magnus has his head in his hands, looking beaten. Morgana is rigid at the head of the table, but I don’t miss the way her hands shake. Sin is cracking his knuckles, looking like he might want to kill something. He’s glowing.

“What happened?” I ask, terrified of their answer.

Morgana turns and indicates for me to come in and take a seat. I go to my chair, and Rosie looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes, only to start sobbing louder.

“What’s going on?” I ask again, feeling more anxious by the second.

“We just got some intelligence about a member of our team. It’s not good,” Sin answers grimly.

I look between him and Morgana, hoping they feel comfortable enough to tell me more.

Morgana won’t meet my eyes. She stares down at the table.

That’s a bit weird. Morgana doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who shies away from eye contact.

There’s something they aren’t telling me.

Rosie hiccups beside me, her sobs slowing slightly. “Vivian, I’m so sorry,” she says between sharp inhales.

I frown at her, wondering what on Earth she’s apologizing for.

“Is this about me getting hit with an arrow? I already told you it was my decision, and you have nothing to be sorry for,” I say, hoping to ease whatever she’s upset about. Rosie felt terrible about my getting hurt in her realm, and I’ve hardly seen her since.

Rosie sobs harder. “No, it’s not, it’s not that.” She breathes hard. “It’s Arianna. They have her, and we didn’t tell you,” she finishes with another round of sobs.

The name immediately brings back flashes from Cassandra’s life.

There’s a little girl with white-blond hair and frightened blue eyes. I take her away from the groping hands of the Guardians. She climbs into my bed for months on end every time she has a nightmare. Then I see her again as a scabby-kneed pre-teen, training with swords with me in the temple of Atlantis. Another flash, and she is a teenager who watches out for the other children when I leave on missions.

The first child Cassandra ever saved from the Guardians. The girl she raised and considered a sister until her dying breath.

“My Arianna?” I yell, my voice cutting over everyone in the room.

I spin between Morgana and Sin, waiting for them to tell me I’m wrong.

Sin looks grim as he answers, “Yes.”

My vision darkens. Am I about to swoon?

Absolutely not. I refuse.

Instead, I plant my hands on the table and spin back to Morgana. “How?” I ask, my voice hard.

This is a big secret. One that they should have told me the moment Cassandra’s memories were restored. My fingernails dig into the table.

Morgana finally looks up at me. “The night Atlantis fell. You sent the priestesses and children off the island through a passageway in the mountain that Sin and I didn’t know about. They got out. You bought them enough time, Vivian.”

My shoulders sag, relief washing through me. Cassandra had done it. She’d bought them enough time to escape.

Morgana continues, but her expression is pained, “When Leon sunk the coastline, I sent the forsaken to look for survivors. I couldn’t believe how far he’d gone. And I was partly to blame for releasing him. I thought he’d killed everyone, even sunk the boats, but my forsaken found some. Two small boats, full of women and children. We couldn’t leave them, not when the Council wanted to eradicate every trace of Atlantis. So, we brought them here.”

My hands shake, and I release the table, sinking into my chair. “You saved them?”

“We did,” she whispers. “We let them stay as long as they wanted. Most of them returned to Moon Goddess temples in other cities. We found good homes for the children, but Arianna…” she pauses, looking guilty now, “Arianna didn’t want to go. She was so angry at learning of the Council’s existence and that they’d ordered the destruction of her home. She wanted to stay and fight.”

I shake my head. “No. No, you did not let a teenager get mixed up in all of this,” I whisper in complete dismay.

“We didn’t want that for her either. When she refused to return to her own realm, we brought her to our city so she could make a new life here,” Morgana answers.

Sin continues, “She didn’t take well to being dismissed. She made it through the forest of the forgotten dead and demanded we not ignore her.” He smiles a bit at the retelling. “After that, we took her more seriously. She’s the only person, besides Morgana and me, to have ever made it through that forest without being shredded, and she was mortal. We continued her training here, away from any real danger, until she was older.”

“Arianna had a gift for moving through the shadows. She was incredibly stealthy, especially given she was a mortal. She was the perfect spy,” Morgana says.

My gut twists inside of me, but Morgana continues, “We needed more eyes in the Council, and Arianna wanted to go. She knew she would need to work her way into their inner circles. She posed as a mortal from one of the poor villages in the Otherworld. Then she snuck into the Council’s castle, completely undetected. She made it all the way to Need’s bed chambers before anyone ever realized she was there. When Need finally saw her, Arianna said she was there for a job. That she could be of use to them.”

A slight twinge of pride wedges through my anxiety and fear. Of course, Ari could get through the Council’s castle. She was always great at blending into the shadows.

“Arianna exchanged her services for immortality. The Council granted it, seeing her value to them. With immortality, her powers grew, and she was able to control darkness. It wasn’t something the Council had ever seen, and they valued her skills immensely. She worked for them, integrating herself deeper and deeper into their inner circles, sending us back intelligence every chance she got. Until…” Morgana tapers off, the guilt crushing her features once more.

“What happened to her?” I whisper.

“About two hundred years ago, she was caught trying to send us a message. The Council had her arrested and thrown into the prison underneath their castle,” Morgana answers.

My stomach churns, and I might be sick. “She’s been a prisoner for two hundred years, and you haven’t gotten her out?”

I’m yelling again.

Morgana shakes her head slowly. “We’ve tried. All our spies were unsuccessful, getting caught in the process.”

“Then you go get her!” I yell back at her.

Morgana smiles weakly. “I can’t – not yet.”

“Why the hell not?” I yell, pushing off from the table and standing.

“Need is at the head of the Council, but her reign is mediated by the other members. There are rules to keep the realm leaders in line. As the head of the Shadow Realm, I have never attacked the Otherworld. Sin has not caused any trouble in their realm, either. We’ve both tried to stay as hidden as possible since Atlantis fell, giving them no reason to think we are a threat. Because so long as Sin and I act peacefully, they can’t send an army to the Shadow Realm. They can’t attack. The Council won’t allow a multi-realm war without just cause.”

I frown. “But Need, she wanted Leon and me to find you guys.” I turn to Sin, grimacing. “We were supposed to kill you.”

Sin winks at me in response. “Good luck with that, kitten.”

My cheeks heat, and I turn back to Morgana. “Why would Need want to instigate such a fight now?”

Morgana narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t look angry, just thoughtful. “Was Need working on behalf of the Council?”

I close my eyes, trying to remember my meeting with Need. “No, she said that the Council couldn’t be trusted and that she was using me because I could.”

Morgana nods. “Then she’s going behind the Council’s back. She wanted to kill us quietly.”

I frown. “But why? Why now? Why not just use another mortal, centuries before me, to act as a secret Keeper for Leon, to take you guys out?”

Morgana sighs. “That I don’t know. And I’d really like to find out.”

I nod, relieved to not be the only one who’s in the dark.

“There’s more,” Sin continues ominously. “Arianna has been in the prison below the Council’s castle for centuries. Until last night. Last night, they brought her out.”

“That’s great news!” I exclaim. “Now we can free her!”

Sin shakes his head. “No, we still can’t get to her. And this fate is worse than the prisons.”

My heart drops at his words.

Rosie speaks, her voice soft, “I left three days ago to spy on the Council. We can’t apparate into there, and I have to be very careful, because they’re looking for me. But there’s a garden there, and I can sometimes project my energy through the mycorrhizae.”

I remember the garden, but Rosie’s lost me.

“I’m sorry, the what?” I ask.

“Sorry – the mycorrhizae,” Rosie repeats. “They’re an underground network of fungi that connect plants together. I was able to apparate into the Otherworld, far from the Council’s castle, and send my energy through the network. It took ages to find a route to the Council’s garden, but I found it. I’ve been listening for days, and then this morning, I could hear them. The guards were laughing about having Arianna back outside. They put her into their maze and were making bets on how long it would take for her to kill herself.”

Recognition dawns. The maze next to the Council’s garden – the one Leon helped build. Where soldiers go crazy, wandering for days, thinking they keep getting lost and not finding the exit.

“We can’t enter the maze. It’s a trap. There’s no escaping it unless you already know the way out. They’re trying to draw us out, no doubt, to get you back, Vivian,” Morgana says, sounding dejected.

I’m still standing from my earlier outburst. But my mind is far away, remembering walking through the tall hedges with Leon. I try not to think about what else we did in there.

“I can,” I whisper.

Sin hears me. “You can what?”

“I can get her out,” I say, looking at them all. “I know how to get through the maze.”

Chaos erupts at my words.

Damien and Magnus start yelling about how I’m too injured to go. Rosie starts crying again and Sin is lecturing me about the corrupted Keeper bond.

They keep getting louder, but I ignore them, my eyes locked on Morgana. She says nothing either, watching me appraisingly.

“We can’t help you once you’re on Council territory,” she warns.

The others go quiet at her words.

“Morgana, you weren’t here when Vivian arrived. The corrupted bond causes her so much pain that she can’t even walk if she’s away from Leon. She will crumble the second she’s back in the same realm as him. It won’t work,” Sin argues.

I whirl on him. “I’m not the same person you picked up outside Leon’s castle, Sin. I have Cassandra’s memories back, and it’s made me much more resilient to pain. I can handle it.”

Sin crosses his arms, taking me in like he’s deciding whether to believe me.

I narrow my eyes at him and glare at everyone at the table. “Let me make myself clear. If you want any chance of working together to bring down the Council, you will apparate me over to the Otherworld. I will not abandon Arianna.”

Morgana sighs. “If Leon knows you can navigate the maze, then this is most certainly a trap.”

A shudder passes through me at the thought of Leon waiting for me.

“Then I need to be faster than him,” I answer her, keeping my voice level.

Morgana stares at me a moment longer until finally nodding. “You leave in an hour. How are we doing this?”

I step back. “I’m going to need a jar of peanut butter.”

With that, I leave the dining room to change for the mission. A-line skirts are not mission-appropriate wear.

I just about scream when I swing open my door and find Sin leaning against the far wall next to my dresser, yet again. The shock wears off instantly, though, and I storm into my room, closing the door behind me.

He apparated in. He can poof himself right out.

“If you’re here to talk me out of this, then you can save your energy and get out,” I snap, heading to the chest at the end of my bed.

Sin doesn’t look happy, but he isn’t angry either.

“Why are you ready to risk yourself for a complete stranger?” he asks, sounding suspicious.

I frown at him. “She isn’t a stranger, she’s –”

“From Cassandra’s life. Not yours. You didn’t wake up from regaining your memories loving Leon. So, I know you aren’t sharing a consciousness. Now, I want to know. Why are you risking yourself?” His eyes are narrowed on me, and he’s looking at me like he’s trying to solve a complicated problem.

His question has me pausing before I answer, “Because I know how much Cassandra loved her. I feel it. It’s different with Leon. Whatever Cassandra felt, it’s twisted up with my own memories and our combined issues with him. Arianna was important to Cassandra, and she’s important to everyone here. That makes her important to me, and I will not stand by and do nothing. Not when I can help.”

He looks thunderstruck before quietly answering, “I’m not going to try and stop you.”

I pause when he doesn’t move. “Then why are you still here?”

Sin moves from the wall, stalking towards me.

This would feel much less arousing if there wasn’t a bed behind me.

Stupid dirty mind.

My breath catches as Sin kneels before me, reaching under my skirt. His hand feels scorching as it grazes along my inner thigh. His eyes are locked on mine as his other hand lifts my skirt. He’s moving slowly, giving me a chance to stop him.

Okay, maybe I don’t have a dirty mind. This feels overtly sexual.

Sin’s gaze is heated as he watches me for any sign of hesitation. He inches my skirt up further until most of my thigh is exposed.

I watch, my heart thundering inside of me and my brain short-circuiting as he lifts my leg so that my foot rests on his thigh.

My bandage. He’s checking my injury.

My face feels like it’s on fire as embarrassment sweeps through me.

Sin glances up from my injury, looking perfectly self-satisfied. “Enjoying the view, kitten?”

“You did that on purpose,” I huff back at him.

Sin smirks before looking back at the bandage. He pulls out a leather square from his pocket and some leather bindings. His hands find my thigh again, and he takes his time placing the leather over my bandage.

“This will help you run. I’m going to add some pressure to the bindings. It should help stop the stitches from pulling,” he says as he starts wrapping the leather bindings around my thigh.

Every time his fingers graze my inner thigh, I think I might combust. I should look away, but I can’t tear my eyes from the man kneeling between my legs. This is the universe’s way of making me pay for not being attracted to mortal men.

Sin finishes wrapping me up and takes great care when lowering my skirt, his hands continuously brushing against me. Once finished, he stands, still looking smug.

Absolutely not.

Sin does not get to tease me and walk away, thinking he’s won. That would be terrible for our partner dynamic.

I frown at him. “Do you suffer from long periods of memory loss in a day?”

He quirks a brow questioningly. “No, why?”

“It’s a symptom of multiple personality disorder,” I answer. “I think you should get yourself checked out. One minute, you’re swearing that you wouldn’t touch me, even if your life depended on it, and the next, you’re making comments about eating me out on a table.”

Sin laughs, and I mirror his eyebrow quirk from a moment before.

“I wouldn’t touch a Council whore,” he corrects.

“I am not –” I grit out, annoyed to be back to this.

“I know,” he cuts me off. “I didn’t before, but now I do.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning now.

“You’ll figure it out,” he answers, winking at me before apparating out of the room.

Alone now, I let out a groan before pulling my fighting gear out of the chest.

One problem at a time, Vivian. I remind myself.

Sin’s mood swings are a problem, yes. But considering I’m stuck with him, I’m categorizing him as a chronic annoyance – like period cramps. Meanwhile, I have a bigger issue to worry about. Namely, there’s a decent chance I’m about to be captured by the Council and forced into becoming Leon’s personal sex slave.

I shudder at the thought and pull out a few extra knives.

Over my dead body.

Chapter 23

Rule twenty-three: Don’t go back to your toxic ex, no matter how hot the sex was.

By the time I’ve finished getting dressed, most of the others are already waiting in the courtyard. My fighting leathers are starting to feel like a second skin, though at least now, I don’t need to wonder how everyone here seems to know so much about my time as a Guardian. Cassandra told Arianna everything she could about the secret organization. She only ever kept one secret from Arianna, and that was Leon.

Sin’s eyes meet mine as I make my way down the stone steps, and I ignore the way my breath catches at his intense stare. He has an unnerving habit of making consistent, unbroken eye contact. It’s as if we’re locked in an unspoken war, where he wants to see inside my soul, and I refuse to look away, lest it comes across as submissive. I can try to blame it on not wanting to look like prey, but really, I’m sprinting as far away as possible from the meek person I tried to be for Leon.

Never again.

I will never make myself smaller for those around me. If I’m going to be surrounded by large, powerful people, then I need to become larger and more powerful.

Metaphorically, of course. Everyone here has at least a few inches on me, and Sin is a freaking giant. But I can be smarter.

Sin meets me halfway, stopping me before I reach the others. His eyes sweep over my body, pausing at every dagger I’ve sheathed away as if he’s assuring himself that I haven’t forgotten any. There’s an air of agitation around him, though his tattoos aren’t glowing. A small part of my throat constricts at the realization that Sin doesn’t want me to do this. No one here does. But here they are, supporting my choices.

No one is forcing me to obey them. I try not to focus on how good that feels.

“How is your leg?” he asks quietly so the others don’t overhear.

“Better, thanks. The wrap is helping,” I answer.

His gaze hardens. “If we get there, and the bond pain is so bad that you can’t walk, I’m apparating us back.”

His tone holds a warning to it, one that suggests I not argue with him. I stiffen but nod in agreement.

“I’ll be fine,” I lie through my teeth.

Sin quirks an eyebrow at me. “I can’t enter Council territory without starting a war between our realms. A war we can’t win.”

There’s no malice in his words, just a directness reminding me that once I’m within the Council’s wards, I’m on my own. I nod, ignoring the way my palms are sweating over the anxiety of what I’m about to do.

No one is coming to save me. I’m the rescue party now.

At my understanding, Sin reaches around his neck and pulls off a necklace I hadn’t noticed before. The black string holds a silver pendant of swirling knotwork, similar to the tattoos on his skin, only there’s a snake tangled within the threads. He holds it out to me, and I hesitate. If I’ve learned anything from going through magical items with Magnus, it’s not to trust jewellery.

“It’s safe,” Sin notes after seeing my reluctance. “It’s been mine for a very long time. Arianna may not believe you’re who you say you are. This should help to convince her.”

“Smart,” I answer, taking it from him.

We join the others once I’ve slipped the necklace over my head. Sin stands at attention, his legs braced and arms crossed behind his back. He looks tense. I mimic him while we wait for Morgana to join the group.

After a moment, Sin glances down at me, notices I’m copying him, and rolls his eyes before turning away.

I bite back a grin. Sure, Sin probably thinks I’m an imbecile, but his shoulders relaxed a bit.

I’m a fantastic partner.

Morgana apparates in front of us, and her words pull me out of my self-satisfaction. “We don’t have much time to figure this out. Damien knows the movements of the guards. They’re going to be preoccupied over the next twenty minutes. It’s the shift rotation, and guards will be giving their reports to their superiors. Vivian, do you need to get to a particular part of the maze to get in? Or is that flexible?”

“I can get in at any point. I’ll just need a few minutes at the edge,” I answer.

Morgana nods, handing me a jar of peanut butter. “I don’t even want to know why you need that. Rosie, where can Vivian get the most cover from the surrounding forest while entering the maze?”

Rosie kneels and starts drawing a rough map into the sand. She points at an area in the far back corner of the maze, where the forest reaches the hedges. “This is a good spot. The forest is right on the edge of the Council’s wards. You can apparate almost directly there.”

Morgana looks back at me. “You know this is a trap, and Leon will be waiting for you. Undoubtedly, he’ll be able to track you using your bond. Your best chance is getting in and out of the maze as quickly as possible. Sin must stay on the outside of the Council’s wards. If you’re captured, it would be a declaration of war for us to free you from Council territory.”

Her warning only cements what Sin already told me. Once I’m in the Council wards, I’m on my own.

“I’ll be fine. I can do this,” I answer, hoping the confidence I’m pretending to exude is coming through.

Morgana nods.

Damien and Magnus squeeze my non-injured shoulder, wishing me luck, and Rosie hugs me.

I turn to Sin, only to find him already watching me.

He offers his hand. “Ready?”

I nod, placing my hand in his. “Ready.”

With that, we apparate from Morgana’s realm.

The moment my feet touch the ground, it feels as though I’ve been hit by a train. My body pitches forward, and Sin grabs me around the waist, steadying me. Only this time, it isn’t the jolt of apparating into a new realm that’s thrown me off balance.

Leon is here, and the bond knows it.

A searing heat scorches through my brain, and a ringing sounds in my ears, so loud I can hardly see straight. I hunch over, hands on my knees, trying to breathe through the pain while Sin holds me.

I didn’t miss this feeling. Not one bit.

The forest around us is silent as I take deep breaths, trying to get myself under control. The pain isn’t lessening, and more frighteningly, I recognize the familiar fog that is starting to form at the edges of my mind. The same fog that robbed me of my thoughts. Abruptly, I stand, ignoring the way my head swims at the movement.

Sin is watching me warily, and I remember the night I drove away from the forsaken with Leon. Back then, I managed to fight the bond for a while by focusing on my rage. “Don’t be nice to me. Anger is the only thing that helps keep the fog away,” I spit through the pain.

Sin nods, immediately understanding. He releases me and backs up a foot, glaring at me. “Hurry your ass up, and get the job done. Otherwise, you’ll be right back to being their whore. Do you want that? Do you want to be a pretty hole with no free will?”

I bristle at his words, my rage burning away at the traces of the fog that still try to creep into my thoughts. “Never. Never again.”

“Our friend is in there, and Fates only know what she’s suffered. Stop acting like a whiny princess and get her out,” Sin orders. The authority in his words matches what I would expect from a warlord conditioned to commanding thousands.

“I’m getting her out,” I answer through gritted teeth and turn without another word, running to the maze that looms not far ahead.

The whole-body pain makes my knees shake, and the burning causes a cold sweat to run down my back. Still, I’m standing, and that’s a step up from what I could do the last time Leon and I were separated in this realm. While I would love to blame that on my memories from Cassandra, a chilling thought makes me reconsider. If the bond is hurting me less, it likely means Leon isn’t as far away this time.

The realization pulls me out of my thoughts, and I run faster toward the maze, grateful for the few days I spent working on my cardio with Damien.

The tall hedges grow closer, and I scan the surrounding forest, trying to find some kind of landmark that will tell me where to exit. It’s a stupid endeavor. I know everything will look the same once I’m in the maze.

This entire mission depends on one thing.

Reaching the wall, I open the jar of peanut butter and hold it over my head. Hopefully, the smell will be strong enough to attract what I’m looking for. I start making kissy sounds like I’m trying to call over a cat.

A minute passes, and nothing happens. More cold sweat drips down my back, and I’m seriously starting to doubt my plan. But then I hear it, a chittering above me. I look up to find a small, green creature. The same kind that Leon used to open the maze last time. It looks at me with wide eyes, and I smile at it.

The little creature looks like the offspring between a garden gnome and a squirrel, and it chitters nervously at me. I try to coax it forward using my best Cinderella voice as I take a small scoop of peanut butter out of the jar and offer it to the creature.

Given it looks like it might be part squirrel, I’ve bet this entire mission on the assumption that it will love peanut butter.

And here I was, thinking I wasn’t much of a gambler.

“Hey, buddy. Do you remember me?” I ask, still maintaining my most non-threatening voice.

I have no idea if this is the same creature Leon tortured last time. If not, hopefully, these little creatures can communicate, and they will know I’m a friend.

The creature climbs down further, sniffing at my fingers. It takes a tentative lick at the peanut butter before gobbling up the rest of my offering.

I grin.

Nailed it.

The little squirrel-gnome creature darts back into the hedges but doesn’t run away. Instead, it stares at me with a renewed interest, like I might hold the most precious thing in its universe. Its little paws are slightly darker than the rest of its green body, and I decide to name it Mittens. It’s less of a mouthful than ‘squirrel-gnome creature.’

“My friend is stuck in the maze. Do you think you could help me get her out? The entire jar is yours if you do,” I add, showing it the rest of the peanut butter.

Mittens eyes me warily, hesitating at my offer, only to dart deeper into the hedges.

My pulse starts to pick up at the panicking realization that I’m out of luck. But then the branches start twisting and coiling away from each other until they reveal an opening large enough for me to get through.

My heart slows, and I step inside, finding the creature clinging to the inside wall of the maze.

“Thank you. We need to hurry, okay? Bad people are going to be coming,” I note, hoping Mittens understands the urgency of our situation.

Mittens lets out a series of nervous squeaks before taking off, racing along the hedge wall. I follow.

The cut on my leg stings, but it’s got nothing on the ringing in my head. Now that I’m not focused on my anger, the fog is back, pressing further into the edges of my mind and threatening to overtake my thoughts.

Follow Mittens. Find Arianna. Get out.

I repeat the steps as a mantra on loop, hoping it will help to keep me on track if the brain fog gets too dense.

We’re deeper into the maze now, and I mentally log every turn we take, hoping my terrible sense of direction won’t get me captured. I may have oversold my ability to navigate the maze to the others. Sure, I’ve come inside and gotten out, but I can’t remember the turns Leon and I made. All my hopes are with Mittens.

It’s a risk, but saving Arianna is worth it.

We make it another few turns before I hear him. Leon’s voice echoes from a distance. “Vivian! I know you’re in here! Stop running!”

There’s a familiar feral possessiveness to his words. My body reacts to hearing him, and a wave of heat hits me again. But it isn’t enough to slow me down. Not when I know what waits for me if I give in.

Not a chance.

I push forward.

Mittens chitters nervously at Leon’s voice, and I whisper, “It’s okay. He’s still far. We can make it.”

We continue, and I notice a bench hidden in an alcove to my left. Chills erupt over my flesh, remembering what Leon and I did there. The bond flares at the memory, and another wave of heat crashes through me. I whimper at the overpowering need that pulses through my veins. My knees go weak, and I stumble but don’t stop running.

Sin hit me with lust when we trained, and I managed to fight him through it. I can fight this.

Leon’s voice echoes out again, only this time it’s closer, “Are you playing hide and seek, Vivian? I warned you. I’ll always find you.”

He must only be a few rows away. The ringing in my head worsens, taking on an even higher, more disorientating pitch.

The bond is not happy with me for running from Leon.

The bond can kiss my ass.

I don’t think about how screwed I am and only run faster. I want to call out to Arianna, but I don’t dare make a sound lest I make it easier for Leon to find me.

More twists and turns, and I’ve completely lost track of where we are going. It’s getting harder to ignore the twisting sensation inside of me, constricting my lungs, insisting that I go to Leon.

“You can run all you want, little mouse, but you know you can’t win this. I can feel you burning for me. You need me.” Leon’s voice is even closer, and I sprint after Mittens. One of my stitches pops, and the pain in my leg is a blissful reprieve from the feeling of my blood turning to magma.

More twists and turns through the maze until, finally, there’s something up ahead, crumpled on the ground. I race towards it.

It’s a person curled into a tight ball. And though they’re facing away, the long silver-blonde hair is a dead giveaway. I screech to a halt when I reach her. “Ari!” I whisper, grabbing at her arm. “Ari, get up! We need to go. We have no time!” I urge, pulling her up.

Arianna turns to me slowly, blinking like she isn’t sure where she is. She looks at me with haunted eyes. “No. No, not again. No more tricks. You’re dead,” she cries, trying to wrench away from me.

She’s deathly pale and so thin I’m worried about pulling her too hard in case I accidentally snap her bones. Instead of trying to force her to follow me, I yank Sin’s necklace from my neck, holding it out to her.

“I’m here, and I’m with them. But unless you get up and start running, we’re both as good as dead,” I plead.

Ari stares hard at the necklace, a spark of recognition passing through her gaze before her eyes snap back to me, clearer than before. “Cassandra?”

“Not quite,” I answer honestly.

“Vivian!” Leon’s voice rings out. It’s way too close for comfort. “You’re trapped in here, little mouse. There’s no escaping our destiny.”

I shudder at the sound.

Mittens must feel the same trepidation because, at the sound, the little creature screeches, dashing into the hedges. My heart sinks as I realize it’s running away.

We’re so screwed.

But rather than dwelling on that little detail, I take Arianna’s hand, and we take off running. I have no idea how to get back to the entrance, so I aim for the opposite direction of the bond’s pull. The action shoots white-hot pain through me, and the fog creeps in a little closer.

I grit my teeth at the pain, focusing on getting Arianna out.

“Who is that?” Arianna asks. Luckily, there’s no panic in her voice, only cold calculation.

I answer through laboured breaths, “He’s not good.”

Pulling one of my daggers from my thigh, I thrust it into Arianna’s hand without breaking our stride. “If I try to go to him, you need to kill me.”

There’s no way I’m going back to having my thoughts controlled. I refuse.

Arianna looks at me like I’ve just grown a second head. “What! No, Cassandra, I –”

“Promise me! I can’t go back,” I urge, looking at her for a second before looking back down the maze corridor.

Arianna must recognize the haunted expression in my eyes because she mutters, “Fine.”

My legs are cramping from all the running, and I know I don’t have much strength left. Running blindly isn’t going to help us, but we don’t have many other options to choose from.

We careen around another turn, and my heart soars when I see something familiar.

The bench.

The fog has its claws in my mind, but I push against it. I could cry from relief, since I think I know the directions back to where I entered. I run faster, and Arianna keeps up, though we both breathe hard.

“I’m not sure how much farther I can go,” Arianna warns.

“We’re close,” I answer, trying to save my breath.

Leon calls out again, and I bite back a whimper at how close he sounds, “Run all you want, little mouse. But the second I catch you, I will love watching you come undone for me. I’m going to fuck that pretty pussy until you remember where you belong.”

My knees buckle at his words, the heat jolting through me like I’ve been hit by lightning. The moment my steps slow, the fog pushes further into my mind. The ringing grows impossibly louder as I use the last vestiges of my free will to push against it.

As my body starts to crash towards the ground, Arianna catches my arm, stopping me. She’s looking at me in horror now, and I vaguely feel my nose starting to bleed. I frown at the offending red liquid, confusion beginning to take hold of me, as I question what I’m doing here and why I’m not with Leon.

There’s something I’m supposed to do.

Looking back at Arianna, I notice the little squirrel-gnome creature on one of the hedges chittering at us.

Of course. I promised something for Mittens.

Reaching into a small pouch, I pull out the peanut butter, open the jar, and toss it at the bushes where the little creature just jumped.

The hedges start to get closer, and I frown at my legs, wondering how I’m moving when they feel like cement blocks. There’s a tugging at my arm, and I realize Arianna is pulling me. Her mouth is moving, but I can’t hear her. There’s only the ringing in my head.

My gaze skips over to Mittens again, and my eyes widen as I watch the hedges not far from us start to pull open. The forest lies directly beyond them.

The sight is enough to push back the fog for a few more moments. The opening can’t be more than ten feet away.

Arianna pulls at me, and I take a shaky step forward.

We’re so close.

But then my eyes catch on something else.

This corridor is long, skirting the edge of the forest. And there, at the other end, I see him.

Leon has found me.

He storms towards us, and his expression turns from smug to unadulterated rage when he notices the hole in the hedge.

Time stills.

I turn to Arianna. “Kill me. Kill me and run, now.”

She slaps me instead. “Move it!” she yells, yanking at my arm.

The sting helps clear my head, and I start moving towards the exit.

Leon starts running. “Vivian! Don’t you fucking dare leave! You belong to me!” he yells out.

My body fights to go to him. It’s as if every atom in me is reaching for him. It’s almost as though he’s magnetized, and I’m helpless to his pull.

I start running.

My last conscious thought is that Leon was right. There is no fighting this. The bond is too strong.

The fog swallows me whole.

We’re reaching the hole now, and I start to rush past it, running to Leon.

I’m shoved to the side instead.

Arianna tackles me through the maze exit and yells at Mittens, “Close it, close it now!”

The wall starts closing, and I scramble up, trying to push around Arianna, desperate to go back. Only a foot left, and Leon is there, at the gap.

My body starts to convulse, the bond refusing to let me escape him a second time.

“Vivian!” he roars. But it’s too late. The vines of the hedge maze knit together, locking him in. As he disappears, all sound of him is gone.

It feels like the blood in my veins is boiling me alive, and all I know is Leon will fix the pain.

I finally manage to push past Arianna, and race to the maze wall. But before I can throw myself at the razor-sharp thorns, her arm comes around my neck, pulling me back into a chokehold. Her arms may look brittle and weak, but she’s stronger than she looks.

I scratch at her, trying to escape. She chokes me harder, and I start to see stars.

Sin’s voice echoes from the forest not far back, “We’re out of time! Move it!”

Arianna looks at Sin and then turns back to me.

“Sorry about this,” she whispers.

Shouts start in the distance. The guards know something is happening.

She lets me go, spinning me to face her. I only have a second to take a breath before she swings her arm back and punches me in the temple.

Everything goes dark.

Chapter 24

Rule twenty-four: Do not let the hot as fuck Destroyer read your smut.

If there’s anyone who needs to worry about memory issues, it’s probably me, what with all the head injuries I’ve sustained.

Consciousness is slow to find me again, and when I finally open my eyes, I find myself back in my bed at Morgana’s castle. My head hurts, but it feels like a paper cut compared to the pain I experienced back in the maze.

I shudder, remembering how close Leon got to taking me. My body gave in. I wanted to go to him. The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I can’t hide from him forever. One day, he will find me.

And then what?

A deep voice pulls me out of my spiralling. “Finally done napping?”

I whirl around at the sound, the movement making the throbbing in my head worse. I groan, massaging my sore temple, as I sit up and lean back against the stone wall. Sin sits across from me on the chair next to my bed. He doesn’t look any worse for wear, though in my recollection, he didn’t get punched in the head.

My eyes catch on the book folded on his lap. A book I very much recognize as one of my spicy novels. Immediately, my cheeks flush. It’s my favorite, but there is some heavy spice in there – all kinds of things I would never admit to getting turned on by.

“Why are you reading that?” I ask, trying to sound irritated, to mask how mortified I am.

Sin arches his eyebrow at me and holds up the offending book. “You took a hit to the head. Someone had to watch over you. I’m just passing the time,” he adds in a seemingly innocent voice.

I consider the merits of hiding under my blankets. Sin’s expression is anything but innocent. There’s a heat in his eyes, and he’s smirking at me like he knows my dirty secrets.

Considering what he’s holding, fair.

“There’s a lot of dog-eared pages in this book, kitten. I wonder what you do when you read them.” His heated gaze turns hungry as it rakes over me.

I’m going to die of mortification. That’s going to be a great one for the coroner. Cause of death? Smutty book collection discovered by hot as fuck man.

I shrug, trying not to let on how much Sin’s teasing is hitting its mark. “That’s a used book,” I choke out. “I haven’t read it yet.”

I’m a horrible liar.

Sin notices.

A slow grin spreads across his face as he closes the book and slips it in his pocket. “Sure, it is,” he answers, winking at me. “Then you won’t mind if I borrow it. I’m getting very invested in those dog-eared pages.”

I swallow.

I really thought I could hold my own with Sin’s sexually charged comments, but there’s a certain lack of experience on my end, and it’s starting to show.

I really should have slept around in college. I would have been better prepared.

“Of course, I don’t mind,” I squeak out.

What a lame response. I need to do better. I look away from Sin, hoping it will help my brain to stop short-circuiting.

“Is Arianna okay?” I ask, changing the subject.

She seemed fine the last time I saw her. She was a little frail and pale, but she still had a mean punch on her.

“She’s fine. She’s sleeping in her room, down the hall,” Sin answers, not moving from beside the bed.

“That’s good,” I whisper, relieved.

I purse my lips as I look back at Sin, wondering why he’s still here now that I’m up.

At my searching look, he leans forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. His dark hair is loose, falling over his shoulders in waves. I wonder if it’s soft.

“Arianna briefed us about what happened in the maze. You did good, kitten,” his voice is lower than usual.

My pulse quickens at the praise. “I almost didn’t make it out,” I deflect. “Arianna had to pull me out of there.”

Sin’s eyes darken. “But you got out.”

“This time,” I hedge. “But as long as the bond exists, it’s only a matter of time. He’s never going to stop looking for me. And once he finds me, he’ll take me. And –” I pause, taking a breath, “And I’ll let him.”

My voice shakes at the words, and I can’t stop the shame from sweeping through me. I wanted to go to Leon at the end. His dark promises did things to my body that I couldn’t fight. They ignited a need in me – like I wouldn’t ever breathe again if I wasn’t in his arms.

I’m disgusted with myself.

My eyes are glued to the blankets, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill over.

Sin is so twisted he’d probably laugh and hit me with some miserable sadness energy to drive home how much of a weakness crying is.

I definitely don’t expect the gentle hand that tilts my chin up. Sin’s gaze is so tender I blink, accidentally letting the tears fall as I try to process what is happening. His thumb catches a tear, and he ensures he has my full attention before speaking.

“They will never control your mind again. Magical bonds can be broken. We will find a way to free you, I promise.” His words are fervent, and filled with so much determination, I almost believe him.

I even let myself lean into his touch, pretending for a second that this man wants me. Until I remember that my love life is being meddled with by prophecies and the Fates. Oh, and, of course, the fact that I’m already bound to one toxic man. That memory works better than a cold shower, and I pull back, putting some distance between us.

At my pulling away, Sin stands, leaning against his favorite wall. Or at least, I figure it must be his favorite since he always hangs out there. Maybe I can make him a parking spot plaque.

“Now that you’re up, I just need to check on your stitches, and then I’ll leave.” The soothing voice from moments before is gone. Rough, angry-sounding Sin is back.

I sigh, relieved. I can handle this side of Sin.

Stepping out of bed, I realize I’m still in my fighting leathers, but all my blades are gone.

Sin nods at the chest at the foot of my bed. “They’re back in their place. I didn’t need you rolling over and stabbing yourself in your sleep.”

I huff back at him, “I would not.”

Sin looks back at me with a dubious expression that says he doesn’t believe a word that just came out of my mouth.

“You should be worried about me stabbing you in your sleep,” I mutter under my breath as I make my way over to my dresser.

I don’t miss the way he smirks at my threat. I might actually have to stab him someday to show him that I mean business.

“Let me find some shorts first,” I add, moving towards my dresser. It would be a very bad idea to be in my underwear around this man again, especially with him being nicer to me than usual and my not being in a world of blinding pain.

I dig around my drawers, trying to find a pair of shorts. Given the scars on my legs, I’m not even sure I own a pair. I’ve always tried to cover up.

When I find a pair, I reconsider and decide I’ll be better off wearing underwear. But before I can shove them back into the drawer, Sin is beside me, pulling them out and holding them up.

They’re a pair of loose-fitting, very short, pink pyjama shorts. They wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the pattern on them. They’re covered in cartoon kittens, all lounging around with piles of books. They are adorable. But one look at Sin’s face, and I know I will never live this moment down.

His expression is one of unadulterated joy, and he looks like he’s about to burst into laughter. “Here you are, kitten, you almost missed these.”

I snatch the shorts from him and storm into the bathroom, where I won’t have to look at his face.

I can hear him laughing through the door.

Screw him. Patterned pyjamas are entirely normal to have. If he wants to make fun of me, then I will make it my dying mission to raid his room for embarrassing items.

When I exit the washroom, Sin is still standing by the wall. His arms are crossed, but his hand is fisted over his mouth as if trying to contain himself.

I roll my eyes at him.

“Do Destroyers reach full maturity at three thousand years old? They’re pyjamas, Sin. Grow up,” I snap.

In response, Sin looks me up and down and flashes me a devilish smile.

My knees almost buckle.

“They suit you,” he notes, the laughter in his voice still coming through.

I stomp past him, sticking my tongue out as I make my way over to sit on the bed.

Am I acting like a mature adult? No. But considering this guy has millennia on me and is acting no better, I don’t care.

I sit on the edge of the bed, only to look up and find Sin stalking towards me. His playful expression is gone, replaced by one that is dangerously predatory as he kneels before me. On instinct, I move to pull my legs up so I can squirm away, but Sin only catches my legs, spreading my thighs so he can settle between them.

I forget how to breathe.

Injury. He’s checking my injury.

I repeat the thought, holding on to it for dear life.

My core tightens as Sin’s hands settle over my exposed inner thighs.

“Stick your tongue out at me again, kitten, and I’m going to consider it an invitation,” Sin growls.

His focus shifts back to my leg, and his hands move even closer to my core as he starts working to loosen the knot he made in the leather bindings.

I almost arch my back at the sensation and fist my hands into the blankets instead. “Very funny. We both know you’re all talk, Sin. We don’t even like each other. You just like teasing me,” I answer, my voice coming out more breathless than I want it to.

He finishes removing the leather bindings and removes the patch. Thankfully, only one of the stitches popped loose, and it has since scabbed over.

Sin lets out a dark chuckle but doesn’t move from between my legs. His eyes meet mine. “You don’t need to like someone to fuck them.”

Warmth spreads through my core at his heated gaze, and I forget how to breathe. If Sin wants to fuck me, I am so screwed.

My newly awakened libido is practically begging for his touch.

“So, you want to fuck me?” I ask, inhaling sharply, as Sin’s hands make their way higher until he’s cupping my ass.

“No, kitten,” he answers, pulling me forward so I’m barely perched on the edge of my bed.

“I want to devour you,” he growls, his mouth lowering to my inner thigh, kissing a trail up to the edge of my loose shorts.

I arch into him, and Sin pulls aside my shorts so that only my underwear is covering my center.

“I want to ruin you,” he says, biting at the junction of my inner thigh.

I moan, and my hands come to his hair, trying to pull him closer. It’s as silky as I’d imagined.

Sin’s grip on my ass tightens. “I want to fucking destroy you. To claim your body so completely that you shatter beneath me.” His fingers hook inside my underwear, pulling them aside so I’m fully exposed to him.

He growls, lowering his head so he’s only a breath away from tasting me. “You’re soaked for me, kitten. Is this what you want? Do you want to be devoured?”

He doesn’t move from his position; his eyes are locked on mine, and he waits for an answer.

This is a bad idea. I should not be fucking my partner. Especially not while a corrupted magical sex bond is still throwing shade at my life.

The rational side of my brain is very smart.

Too bad I’m still an idiot.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Sin’s gaze grows even hotter as his mouth descends onto my pussy. His tongue barely grazes against my center when there’s a knock at the door. Sin stills, and I feel his breath against my core. I whimper at the sensation.

Another knock.

“Cassandra? Are you up?” Arianna’s voice carries over.

“Answer her. Otherwise, she might open the door,” Sin whispers, still hovering just above my slit. He doesn’t sound bothered, only amused at my mortification.

I clear my throat, but it sounds scratchy. “Just woke up. I’ll be out in a minute, I just –”

Sin’s tongue darts out to flick at my sensitive nub.

I yank his hair to pull him off, but he doesn’t budge. “I just need to get dressed. I’ll find you!” I yell, trying to get the words out as quickly as possible. No sooner have I finished talking before Sin’s mouth fully settles on me, making good on his promise to devour me.

I don’t hear Arianna’s answer as her footsteps retreat from the door.

Sin’s tongue sweeps over my slit, licking at my center before moving up to suck on my clit. His beard rubs against the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, and I move my hips to increase the friction. In response, Sin’s mouth comes down to my slit again, and his fingers spread me, opening me to him. His tongue thrusts inside, and I almost come off the bed.

But no sooner than he’s begun, he lifts his head and releases me.

I blink at him, confused. “What –”

“You need to get dressed. You have somewhere to be,” Sin answers, still kneeling between my legs.

Right – Arianna.

I flush, remembering she’s waiting for me.

Sin watches my expression change, and he winks at me. “I’ll see you later, kitten,” he says before apparating out of the room.

It sounds like a promise.

Chapter 25

Rule twenty-five: Be a badass bitch. Especially if it means stealing candy.

There are many times in recent memory when I’ve realized I’m totally fucked. Most recently, it was two minutes ago, after Sin disappeared from my room. It was one thing to secretly lust after Sin when he hated me. And even when he started to be nicer to me, his sexually charged comments were just that – comments. That was safe. But something between us just shifted. Sin is not pulling punches about what he wants to do to me.

And where does that leave me?

Completely fucked.

Metaphorically, of course, even though I have no idea how I’m going to find the mental fortitude to say no. Because I really do need to stay away from him. There are a multitude of reasons for not getting intimate. Most obviously, because fucking an all-powerful Destroyer while being bonded to another all-powerful Destroyer sounds like the deadliest love triangle of all time.

I cringe at the thought of being in a love-anything with Leon. The idea of him ever touching me again makes me want to gag.

Now Sin, on the other hand… I stop myself from going down that rabbit trail and shove all recent memories of his mouth on me, deep inside a fresh new box in my head.

Nope, we’re not going there.

I find Arianna sitting on the stone wall overlooking the garden. She’s hugging her knees to her chest, and her gaze still holds the haunted expression. She’s in different clothes now, dressed in familiar black fighting leathers. Throwing knives and daggers are strapped to her, matching the ones I use.

Well, I guess I know where my fighting clothes came from. I must have been borrowing hers.

She doesn’t look up when I pull myself onto the wall to sit beside her.

“Hi, Ari,” I say softly, not wanting to startle her.

“You’re not actually Cassandra, are you?” she asks, her voice flat as she stares into the garden.

I sigh, “Not fully. My name is Vivian. I just got all my memories back from Cassandra. I was her in a past life.”

Arianna turns to me, frowning. “You look just like her. It’s eery. So how does it work? Are there two of you in there now, controlling your body?”

I laugh. “I was actually really freaked out about that happening, but no. It’s still just me. Sometimes, though, I can hear Cassandra yelling at me to do things. Usually, when I’m fighting. I have no idea how to fight someone. It’s almost like her memories of training others are bleeding through my subconscious, and she helps take the reins.”

Arianna laughs. “That sounds like Cassandra. Yelling at someone to fight better.” She hesitates, looking lost for a second. “So how does this leave us? You’re not Cassandra, but you have her memories. I – I’ve just missed her. For a really long time.”

I pause, trying to think of how to articulate my thoughts. I can’t fully explain the connection I feel for this girl – or, I suppose, woman, now. Sin thought I’d still be me after I regained Cassandra’s memories, given that my own consciousness was tied to my body. For the most part, he was right. But there are parts of Cassandra’s life that are felt so strongly, so profoundly, that I can’t stop feeling them, too. It’s almost like falling in love with a character from the pages of a book, only stronger, because not only do I see Cassandra’s memories, but I also feel them.

“You know how you haven’t seen Cassandra in forever but have so many memories about her? Even though she might have been changed by thousands of years apart, you still love her, right?” I start.

Arianna nods. “Of course.”

I shrug. “That’s how I feel about you, Ari. Even though my life experiences have been apart from you, the bond is there. I remember our lives together. You’re still a sister to me. That came with the memories.”

Arianna leans into me, and it feels almost familiar.

“You might not like me as much – having a different personality and life experiences have definitely made me a weirdo,” I add, trying to sound lighthearted.

Arianna snorts, “You were always weird.”

We laugh before slipping into a comfortable silence. A warm feeling of contentedness washes over me at having her safely back with us. But then I look at her and see how much she’s changed. The Arianna in Cassandra’s memories was younger, still a teenager, and was full of light and life. She got into all kinds of mischief at the temple but still trained hard and took responsibility for helping to train the younger children.

The girl in my memories is a far cry from the one who sits next to me today. The faraway, vacant look in her eyes hits the hardest. Like any light that used to live there has been crushed. After spending two hundred years locked under the Council’s castle, I can only imagine what she went through.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” I finally ask tentatively.

Arianna sighs and turns to sit so she’s facing me. I do the same, and we sit cross-legged on the stone wall, facing each other. “I – I’m not sure I can. If I start to let myself feel the sadness, the pain. I think it might consume me.”

I nod, completely understanding. “That’s fair.”

I wait to see if Arianna will start to share or change the subject, fully prepared to put on a stoic face no matter what she says.

Arianna purses her lips until exclaiming, “I’ve got it! We’re going to play who suffered more!”

Her excited outburst is entirely at odds with the dark, haunted look she just held.

I gape at her. “Excuse me?” The words are enough to spark a memory of Arianna and I sprawled out in one of the temple gardens, one-upping each other’s bad days. It was our favorite way of dealing with the ugly things we’d see.

Arianna smiles brightly at me. “That’s how I’ll get to know you in this life, and you can catch up on mine!”

She’s completely serious. What a morbid creature.

I like her already.

A pang of nostalgia fleets through me, like a whisper from Cassandra. Her memories must be closer to the surface around Arianna.

I shrug. “Okay, but be prepared to lose.”

Arianna beams, and it transforms her face into someone more familiar. Someone less broken. “You have no idea what you’re in for. You start.”

I laugh. “Okay, I hid my super powerful boyfriend from you back in Atlantis, and then I turned out to be part of a crazy prophecy, only to break up with him, and then he sunk Atlantis.”

I wait for Arianna to react, but she only rolls her eyes. “I already knew all of that. Morgana told me everything when I decided I wanted to stay here.”

She sighs like she’s disappointed in my efforts.

I laugh, scoffing at her, before challenging, “Okay, top it then.”

Arianna shrugs. “I pretty well sold my soul to the Council so that I could infiltrate their inner circles. So, I went from being groomed as a puppet for the Guardians to becoming a puppet for the Council.”

I purse my lips, slowly shaking my head at her like I’m bored with her confession. “I started seeing ghosts a few years ago, and then my childhood best friend convinced my entire class to kidnap me, and they tried to stone me to death.” I hold out my bare arms for added effect, showing off the scars.

Arianna looks at my arms quizzically. “They’re still stoning people in the Mortal Realm?”

I frown. “Not for a long time, at least not where I’m from.”

“Wow,” Arianna muses. “So, they got creative.”

“They certainly thought outside of the box. At least it wasn’t cyberbullying,” I add, shrugging.

At Arianna’s confused expression, I remember she’d been locked up for two centuries. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

Talking about my trauma with Arianna like this is surprisingly painless. Turning it into a twisted game is actually helping.

“When the Council gave me immortality, I developed powers they’ve never seen before. So, they gave me really shitty jobs. Mostly assassinations. It got tough, pretending to kill people when I was really sneaking them back to the Shadow Realm,” Arianna says, sighing dramatically.

“You can control shadows, right?” I ask, trying to remember what the team was saying this morning. I was a little distracted, processing the fact that my friend was still alive.

Arianna gives me a wicked grin. “Check this out.”

She stands on the stone wall and holds her hands out. A small ball of darkness forms between them.

“Neat,” I note, duly impressed.

The ball moves like it’s alive. The shadows remind me of the ball on Morgana’s desk. I guess I know who made the trap.

Arianna lets the ball of darkness go, and it dissipates. “I’m just messing with you. I’m way more impressive than that.”

She looks up, and a wall of darkness descends onto the garden, swallowing it whole. It moves closer to us, but Arianna doesn’t stop.

“Ari…” I hesitate.

Arianna only grins. “It’s safe.”

The darkness creeps closer, and the wall of the void hangs just beside us. I reach over and place my hand into it. Nothing happens. I pull my hand back, and it’s completely fine.

It creeps over the wall, and we’re engulfed. I sit still, marvelling at the darkness. I’ve never seen something utterly devoid of light before. I can’t even see my own hand in front of my face.

Arianna calls out, “Now, do you want to see something incredible?”

I laugh at her enthusiasm. “Of course.”

“Middle finger,” Arianna calls.

I frown, wondering if she’s flipping me off in the dark, but a second later, she squeezes the tip of my middle finger.

“You can see?” I ask.

The darkness recedes, and I watch it slink back into the shadows. I blink through the sunlight, which now seems far too bright.

Arianna grins. “I can see perfectly. Everyone else is completely blinded.”

I hum, more than a little impressed. “That’s really cool.”

“I know!” Arianna says, sitting back down to face me. “I’ve missed using my power. The prison kept me in magically binding cuffs. Sin removed them as soon as we got back.” She pulls up her sleeve and shows me the dark purple band of skin around her wrist.

Her lighthearted expression is replaced by the same haunted expression.

“I agreed to work for Need and become Leon’s Keeper so we could kill Sin. Only the Keeper bond is corrupted, and it makes me want to fuck him all the time. Otherwise, I get searing pain. Oh, and if I think for a second about not being with him or how sketchy the Council is, a brain fog settles over me, so I forget what I was thinking about,” I say, hoping to snap Arianna out of her memories.

“Oh, and the Fates fucked with my destiny, and Leon has decided I’m his possession. He said the only way to break the bond is death. He’s never going to stop hunting me, and he wants to keep me, whether I want him to or not,” I finish.

Arianna nods, looking only mildly impressed.

I frown at her and laugh. “Seriously? I have a magical sex bond with my jerk of an ex-boyfriend, and you look like I just talked about a mild headache.”

Arianna shrugs. “At least the bond made you think you wanted it. When the Council found out I was working as a spy, they threw me into one of the deepest cells in the prison, reserved for only their most powerful prisoners. It would have been okay if they’d left me there to rot, but the head of the guards had a special interest in me,” she says, bitterness creeping into her voice and pausing.

Her fingers dig into the stone below her, and small dark pools form below them.

“He visited me almost every day for two centuries. Some days, he would beat me. Those were nice. He wanted to break me and turn me into his own little doll. To prove he could control something so dangerous.”

I sit in silence, realizing what she isn’t saying. I wait to see if she needs to say it.

“I prayed for the beatings. Anything to distract from what he did to me on the other visits.”

She pauses again, inhaling deeply. The pools of darkness under her fingers grow larger.

“He raped me. Almost every day I was down there,” Arianna finishes, hugging her knees to her chest again.

My heart breaks for her. I want to sob for what she went through. But I know that anything that looks remotely like pity will break her.

“Well, shit. I guess you win. Want to raid the kitchen for chocolate?”

Arianna laughs, wiping away her tears. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

We sneak back into the castle, both of us keeping the mood light. We don’t come across any of the others, and I’m grateful for the alone time together.

Arianna slips in front of me. “Do you know where you’re going?” I ask.

Arianna laughs. “You do know I lived here for years, right?”

I smile, following her. “I forgot, sorry.”

Arianna moves through the corridors, heading to an area I haven’t visited yet. “Morgana keeps a stash of sweets in a secret pantry over here. I found it before I left for the Council. Let’s see if she still has it.”

I swallow. Stealing candy from Morgana feels like a bad idea. Then again, I’m really working on turning a new leaf in the Shadow Realm.

Being a badass bitch. That’s the leaf I’ve been trying to turn.

“Perfect,” I answer.

We find the pantry hidden behind a large portrait. The portrait is of a gluttonous horse, rearing up in a field of red flowers.

I kind of love it. Is Morgana secretly a horse girl?

Arianna swings open the pantry door, and I marvel at the sight within. Cookies, chocolates, and gummies line the walls. Arianna starts picking up sweets, and I join her.

Laughing like fiends, we sneak out of the pantry with our contraband goods. We end up locked in my room, binging junk food. I show Arianna my books, and she borrows at least seven. We keep things lighthearted, catching up on the softer parts of our lives.

Later, when we’re lounging on my bed with our feet propped up on the wall and our heads hanging off the edge, Arianna turns to me and asks, “So, are you planning on mending things with Leon?”

I wrinkle my nose. “No. I felt bad after I got Cassandra’s memories back. I know she lied to him about being a pacifist. I felt like I owed him something because of that. But his actions, they’re not excusable. He treats me like an object and was happy to exploit the bond to get what he wanted.”

Arianna hums. “I bet that threw a wrench in Morgana’s plans. We all assumed you two would be happily in love again when you returned.”

I turn to stare at the ceiling. “Leon never loved Cassandra. He never knew her. And now, he doesn’t want to love me. He wants to own me.”

Arianna throws a chocolate chip in the air, catching it in her mouth. I’m impressed.

“So, what now, oh great prophesied one?” she asks mockingly.

I throw a chocolate chip at her. She catches it and eats it.

“Morgana said the prophecy wasn’t specific about which Destroyer I would love,” I answer, trying not to blush.

Arianna snaps up, her mouth wide. “Oh. My. Fates!”

“Ari, no,” I start, wanting to explain my lack of fucks about the prophecy.

Arianna only grins before pouncing on me. She tickles my waist, and I squeal.

“Tell me everything! Rosie said Irena is still locked up. You love Sin!” Arianna speaks a mile a minute, and I keep trying to push her off, but she won’t stop tickling me.

“There’s nothing! It’s nothing! Morgana just wants us to work together. We can’t stand each other,” I gasp out the words as tears run down my face.

Arianna rolls off me, looking smug. I try to catch my breath, rubbing the spot she just assaulted.

“That counted as torture,” I note.

Arianna just grins. “Information extraction at its finest. I know your weak spots,” she notes, winking at me.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Why did I rescue you again?”

She bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but laugh along with her.

“So,” she starts when we finally settle down. “Do you want to tell me why you blushed so hard you looked like a tomato when I brought up Sin?”

“Maybe because some annoying lady was tickling me so hard I couldn’t breathe?” I answer dryly.

“I think I like you, Vivian. You’re a terrible liar. It’s going to be easy to get to know this new side of you.”

I bury my head in my pillow, trying to drown out the sound of Arianna making kissy noises and pretending to officiate my and Sin’s wedding.

When I ignore her, she jumps onto my back, prodding my ribs again. “Have you slept together? Was it hot? Wait, don’t tell me, you’re like my brother and sister. Ew! Incest. I take it back; you have to marry Leon!”

I roll over to push her off, but Arianna anticipates my move, and we both end up tumbling off the bed in a heap. She keeps trying to prod my ribs, and I’m grabbing for her feet, trying to reach her ticklish spot.

We start throwing obscene threats at each other as we fight on the floor. Arianna is crying because I’ve finally got her boot off and am tickling the arch of her foot, and I keep shrieking every time she pokes at my rib.

We only stop when there’s a cough at the door.

Looking up, we find Sin leaning against the doorframe. His eyebrow is arched like he’s questioning our sanity.

I mean, fair.

Arianna kicks me in the cheek while I’m distracted before sitting up. “Hi Sin, how’s it going?”

I try to swat her as she moves and end up slapping her calf. I sit up next to her.

Sin frowns at our display.

I frown back. “I know I locked that door.”

Sin shrugs. “I didn’t notice. Ari, good to see you back on your feet.”

“You know it’s rude to walk into someone’s room when the door is locked,” I chide.

Seriously, boundaries.

Sin raises an eyebrow. “It’s also rude to sneak into people’s rooms and steal their things, kitten.”

I flush.

“Not as rude as kidnapping them,” I snap back.

Sin rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to speak, but Arianna cuts him off, “Wow. You two totally want to fuck. That’s really weird, guys. Stop flirting in front of me.”

I glare at her, and Arianna just giggles, standing up from the floor and heading for the door. “It’s cute that you guys are going to love each other. Have fun!” she finishes before slipping around Sin and leaving the room.

Sin and I are alone again, and I flush at the memory of what we did together just a few hours before.

Sin smirks at my expression, knowing exactly where my mind is. “Hmm, that’s sweet. So, you’re in love with me, kitten? How flattering,” he mocks.

That comment cures my embarrassment. “Get over yourself. Just because I considered fucking you doesn’t mean I love you. I was more than ready to let Magnus and Damien share me before you interrupted us. In fact, I might go find them later. They’re less of a pain to be around.”

I’m bluffing. Magnus and Damien are great and all, but no part of me craves their touch.

Sin’s jaw ticks, and his eyes darken.

For a moment, I think I might have gotten away with the bluff.

Until Sin steps forward, shutting the door behind him.

Chapter 26

Rule twenty-six: Do not, under any circumstance, admit that you liked that.

Sin stalks into my room, and it feels as though time slows. Each of his steps is measured, and lethal intent radiates from him.

My heart rate escalates as I scramble off the floor, not wanting to be caught at a disadvantage.

Which is a complete joke, because Sin always has the upper hand.

Unbalanced. My relationship partnership with Sin is unbalanced.

Probably because his brain chemistry is, too.

My instincts scream at me to back up and run.

I ignore them.

This man has made a habit of trying to intimidate me by invading my personal space. I’m not saying it isn’t effective, but I will rot six feet under before ever letting him know that.

He crowds me, his body pressing flush against mine.

My breath catches in my throat, and I wait for him to stop.

Sin does not, in fact, stop.

He fists his hand into my hair, wrenching a gasp from me.

His grip is firm.

Merciless.

In one fluid motion, he spins me, walking us forward until he has me against the wall. His chest presses into my back, flooding my senses with his scent. His body heat provides a stark contrast to the cool stone wall.

A smart person would recognize that this is not a good idea, and Sin pauses for a moment as if waiting for me to make a decision.

I should tell him to stop.

I definitely shouldn’t like this.

Fuck, why do I like this?

Another breath and Sin growls, grinding his hips against my ass, igniting the desire I’ve been meticulously trying to ignore.

His hand tightens in my hair, tugging it to expose the side of my neck. His warm breath fans over me, setting my nerve endings on high alert. My thighs press together, and I think my heart is trying to escape from my chest.

Sin’s mouth grazes against the sensitive flesh of my neck as he purrs, “I think my kitten is a liar.”

I close my eyes, trying to remember how to breathe, as his mouth moves to the shell of my ear.

“We both know who gets you soaked,” he adds.

This would be an excellent time for me to set some boundaries.

Instead, I press back into him, only to feel his hard length pressing against me.

Arousal floods my core.

My traitorous vagina clearly holds the reigns to my body, but I have just enough intimacy PTSD to remember what happened the last time a man thought he had the right to control me.

That ship has fucking sailed.

“That doesn’t mean you’re the only one who can. You don’t own me,” I huff, even as I shift so his length is pressed closer to my center.

I swear I feel Sin smile against my neck in response before he whispers, “You’re right, I don’t. But I think you’d like it if I did, wouldn’t you?”

He kisses a trail up my neck, and a small moan escapes my lips before his hand snakes around my waist, pressing us impossibly closer.

“I am not yours,” I breathe, refusing to give up that piece of me, even as Sin dips his hand between my legs, palming my pussy. The action is possessive, sending more heat flooding into my body.

Sin hums against my neck before he answers, “Whatever you say.”

And then his teeth sink into my neck.

I gasp, but the pain is almost immediately replaced by delicious heat as he starts sucking at the assaulted flesh. Every swipe of his tongue goes straight to my core, acting like a shot of desire being pushed through my veins. He starts rubbing circles over my clit, and instead of shoving him away, I dig my nails into his flesh in a silent demand that he not stop.

He continues his tender assault, alternating between sucking and nipping, all the while grinding against my ass and teasing my clit. The heat coils tightly inside of me as he edges me closer to the brink of release, only for Sin to pull his hands back.

I want to scream in frustration, but instead, I hiss, “You bit me!”

He licks the spot in response. “You liked it.”

More than ready to jump into a raging river of denial, I spin to face him, only to catch a glimpse of myself on my dresser mirror. A large red mark has already blossomed on my neck.

My eyes widen at the sight before I round on him. “Sin, what the fuck!”

Sin backs up a step, crossing his arms before giving me an infuriatingly self-satisfied smirk. “Like you said, you’re not mine. But I’ve already warned you, while you’re my partner, no one else will touch you.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why the hell wouldn’t they?”

Sin’s answering smile is pure darkness. “Destroyers have a lot of bad qualities. One of our worst is how possessive we get. I don’t share. No one will dare to touch you once they see the mark.”

He sounds far too cheerful.

I shove him.

Of course, Sin is built like a mountain, and he doesn’t move an inch.

“How dare you! You high-handed, arrogant asshole! You don’t get to decide anything about me! I am done being treated like an object!” I yell, livid.

I try to shove him again, but this time, Sin catches my hands. “I’m not treating you like an object,” he placates and then adds, “Kittens are pets.”

I see red.

Sin grins like he’s having the time of his life before the floor gives out from below us.

We land a second later in the training arena. As soon as my body steadies from the jolt of being apparated without warning, Sin releases me, giving me space.

“Angry, kitten? Do something about it,” he taunts, holding out his arms.

Still, I don’t move, trying to get my rage back under control.

This is a sick and twisted game to him.

If you engage, you’ve already lost.

Sin cocks his head, appraising me. “Well, if you’re going to act all meek and domesticated, maybe I should make you wear a collar.”

My eye twitches.

“I’ll make sure to add ‘property of Sin’ on your pet tag,” he adds.

I launch myself at him.

I don’t care that he’s double my size or that he clearly wants me to attack him and that by doing so, I’m playing right into his hands.

I just want to win.

Just this once, I need to be the one who comes out on top. Not for an audience. Not to prove to Sin that I’m not a liability.

This is for me.

Before today, it wasn’t an issue that Sin always kicked my ass in the arena. But now we’ve crossed a line. One that gives him even more power over me even outside of our training.

Something has to give. He doesn’t get to hold all the power.

So, I’m going to win.

Sin wants me angry and fighting, and he’s succeeded. But I am fighting for so much more.

Cassandra’s voice echoes in my mind, ordering me to move one way or another. ‘Dive left. Punch him in the kidney. Roll over, feign right.’

But Sin always moves out of the way, a fraction before I can touch him, not bothering to land a hit on me.

I scream in frustration, and Sin tsks, “You’re slow. Cassandra’s memories might show you how to fight, but it’s nothing if you can’t move your ass.”

Growling, I step back, breathing heavily.

He’s right. I might be slower, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be smarter.

‘Make use of any weakness you find in your enemy.’ Cassandra’s memory rings out. And it takes less than a heartbeat to know what Sin’s weakness is.

It’s me.

The mortal he’s partnered with and thinks he needs for some ridiculous prophecy.

I’m breakable. Even now, I’ve been careful to only attack him with my upper body to avoid adding any strain on my stitches.

The same stitches Sin has been keeping a close eye on.

He cares, and I’m more than ready to abuse that realization.

Sin might be the master of riling me to the point of fury, but he has no idea the lengths I will go to never feel powerless again.

I charge him again, raising my fist. Only instead of ever throwing the punch, I wait until the last possible second before throwing myself to the ground, the whole of my weight coming down on my injured leg.

A second is all I need.

Sin’s eyes widen in concern, and I kick my leg out, tripping him.

We connect, and Sin goes down hard, falling backwards. He’s barely hit the ground, and I’m on him, shoving my forearm into his neck.

I lean in, close enough to see the onyx flecks in his gray eyes. “Who owns who now?” I whisper, adding more pressure against his neck.

Sin’s eyes flare, and I swear I see a hint of pride in them before it disappears behind his usual smug look. In a blink, he pins my arms above his head. I shift to knee him in the balls, but Sin uses my movement to wrap his legs around my own, effectively immobilizing me.

I buck against his hold but get hit with a shock of heat when his hard length presses directly against the fabric between my legs.

“If you wanted to be on top, you just had to say so,” Sin notes as he rolls his hips.

I ignore the arousal that floods me.

“Not happening,” I answer, gritting my teeth.

Sin only shrugs, transferring my hands into one of his, refusing to let me go.

I struggle against him, but it’s like fighting a tree.

Without hesitation, he flips us so that I’m on my back, and he’s straddling me. His free hand grips my neck, but any heat that was just his gaze has been replaced by cold calculation.

The mood swings strike again.

“You’re going to be fighting creatures that have been alive for millennia. Get faster, and don’t pick fights you can’t win,” he barks. His hand flexes once against my throat, driving his point home before he climbs off me.

Blinking at the jolt in conversation and the lack of his body pressing against mine, I sit up, huffing, “I didn’t pick that fight. You did.”

My leg stings from the move I pulled, and Sin offers me a hand.

I ignore it, standing on my own.

“I goaded you. You took the bait. Doing that with other immortals will get you killed,” Sin instructs, his tone hard.

“I’m not a confrontational person. I would never go around trying to hurt people,” I argue defensively.

I can confidently say I avoid fights at all possible costs.

Only instead of arguing back, my comment seems to stop whatever frustration Sin is working through. A slow smile spreads across his face, and I diligently focus on not remembering how his mouth felt against me today.

“Oh, so I’m special to you,” he notes, cutting through my issues with fantasizing.

I flush. “You are not!”

My steps are heavy as I stomp away from him, but the stairs leading up to the balcony doors muffle the sound. At this point, I am more than ready for this conversation to be over, but of course, Sin only follows me.

“Careful, kitten. Talk like that, and I might start to think you like me,” Sin says, laughing at me.

“I hate you,” I mutter.

“Sure, you do,” he patronizes.

I turn to stick my tongue out at him but think better of it at the last second.

The absolute last thing this man needs right now is to think I’m offering him an invitation into my mouth.

A warm hand settles over my lower back, directing me towards the dining room. “Come on, let’s get you fed before you get angry.”

“I’m already angry with you,” I snap.

“Nah, if you were angry with me, you would have used your powers and really tried to hurt me,” Sin notes, still sounding amused. “You’re angry with yourself.”

I scoff, “Why the hell would I be angry with myself when you’re the one who thinks he can claim my body?”

We’re almost inside the dining room when the warmth of Sin’s hand on my back disappears, only for him to snatch me around my middle and slam me against him.

I turn to demand he let me go, but Sin is faster, taking that opportunity to nip at my neck over the spot he marked.

My breath stutters.

He licks at the mark again before whispering, “You’re angry with yourself because you like it, kitten.”

With that, he releases me, lightly pushing me to the dining room.

Any comment I want to throw back at him is swallowed by the sight of the others at the table, already eating their dinner. I throw him a glare that I hope conveys my threat of violence the moment I get him alone.

I don’t miss his answering wink, even as I dismiss him, deciding to focus on the people who don’t inspire my murderous thoughts.

Arianna has squeezed a chair next to Damien, so she’s sitting in front of my spot. Her face morphs from looking lost in her thoughts to unadulterated amusement when she sees us. “Vivian, you look a little flushed, I wonder what you two were up to.”

She says it so suggestively I flush even more, trying not to think about the bright red mark on my neck. I ignore her comment. She’s had a day, so she gets a pass.

Rosie glances my way as I take my seat next to her, but mercifully, she only grins and says nothing.

Magnus cocks his head, looking me over before his focus zeroes in on the offending mark. He doesn’t smile but sighs before reaching over to Damien and whispering something.

Damien’s gaze locks onto my neck, and I think about how cool it would be to be moss. Just some green stuff hanging on a tree, with no mortifying moments.

Moss life sounds good right about now.

While everyone takes a turn staring at me, Sin leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. His expression is smug as he looks at Magnus and Damien, waiting for them to realize what he’s done.

Men are animals.

Territorial, testosterone-infested animals.

My cheeks feel like they might catch fire by the time Damien finally looks away to glare at Sin. Magnus grips Damien’s arm and the tension around the table skyrockets.

Except for Arianna, of course, who makes a kissy face at me.

She’s unhinged.

I try to kick her under the table.

She mouths, ‘Harder please,’ and I commit to ignoring her again.

“Really, Sin? Was it necessary to mark her?” Magnus asks, irritation bleeding into his voice.

“You had no right,” Damien spits.

Sin raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I have the only right.”

That comment is enough to have me aiming a second kick at him. I connect, and Sin glances back at me, amused. I open my mouth to tell him he’s delusional, but Damien speaks before I have the chance.

“She doesn’t even like you,” Damien barks out. His typical jovial, lighthearted expression is replaced by one that promises violence. “If you manipulated…” he starts but doesn’t finish the sentence.

The insinuation is there, though, and now I’m irritated with him, too. “No one mani–”

“Oh, for goodness’s sake,” Rosie chirps, cutting me off. “Men are so oblivious it hurts.”

That comment right there is why she is my favorite.

“My partner. My protection. My mark,” Sin growls.

Magnus turns to me, clearly frustrated but still level-headed. “And you don’t oppose his actions, little enigma?”

I turn, and my stare collides with Sin’s. There’s no mistaking the challenge in his eyes. I know he would have stopped touching me if I asked him to. But I didn’t.

I wanted it.

Sure, I’m annoyed that he openly claimed me, but what will admitting that achieve? The last thing my allies need is a rift between them, and Damien looks ready to do battle on my behalf.

Not happening. This fight stays between Sin and me.

“Not at all,” I respond sweetly, but I don’t tear my eyes away from Sin. “Especially since he agreed that I can mark him in return.”

Sin raises a brow but doesn’t disagree.

Still, my comment must be enough to calm Damien because he visibly relaxes against Magnus, his lethal intent somewhat dissipating.

“Well, now that you’ve got that out of your systems,” Morgana starts, clearing her throat. “We have a problem to discuss.”

Her comment sends my anxiety skyrocketing.

The last time we had a problem was earlier today. How frequently do problems happen in this realm?

I don’t need more anxiety.

My needs are simple and consistent.

A bookish realm with a ward that doesn’t allow entry to men would still solve ninety-nine percent of my problems.

“Now that Vivian has removed the forsaken from the realm, we have lost our army. We are vulnerable, and if the Council finds out, they will not hesitate to attack,” Morgana says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Arianna looks at me quizzically, and I shrug, not even remotely sorry. “Enslaving souls is disgusting. I freed them.”

Morgana narrows her eyes at me. “So, you say. However, I note that you have no proof they’ve been freed. And believe it or not, I happen to agree with you. I never enslaved the forsaken. My realm was a sanctuary to them, and they helped me in return.”

I frown at her. “I’m sorry, but don’t you have a freed Destroyer here? Can’t he just dis-exist the Council? Why didn’t you guys do that the moment you got his key?”

I’m not trying to be rude. I’m genuinely curious as to why they’ve dragged things out for so long.

Rosie coughs, and Sin mutters under his breath, “So bloodthirsty, kitten.”

Morgana sighs. “The Council’s Castle is protected by magic that nullifies Destroyer energy. We couldn’t hit them at their heart, even if we wanted to.”

I still don’t get it. “But can’t Sin just un-exist any soldiers sent here?”

Sin sits forward and answers, “I can. Can’t people in your realm just throw nuclear bombs around any time someone misbehaves?”

I swallow. Touché.

Morgana continues, “If Sin uses his powers to that end, we will draw the anger of every neighboring realm. They’ll feel threatened, even if we mean them no harm. We’ll have more enemies than ever. I’m not prepared to commit genocide in every realm. We want to do this properly, to bring peace. Not more war.”

I nod, a bit in awe. Morgana really isn’t evil. She and Sin have the power to destroy the universe, but they refuse to use it.

“We need allies now, more than ever. I’ve made many contacts over the years. Some in the Council, some outside. They have large armies at their disposal. If they can be convinced to join us, we might have a chance at taking down Need and any other corrupted members,” Morgana says, hope entering her tone.

My brow furrows. “But why only do this now? Again, why wait so long to form allies?”

Morgana smiles, and it’s calculated. “We didn’t. I’ve been trying, but they’ve refused to side with us for fear of retaliation from Need. However, there is one thing that can change their mind.”

The others turn from Morgana to me, and I shrink back into my chair a fraction under the weight of their attention.

“No one dared move against Need after they heard the prophecy. They’ve been waiting for you, Vivian. To see which side of the war you would take,” Morgana finishes.

I swallow. “That seems like a really bad battle strategy on their part.”

This is ridiculous. People shouldn’t be deciding to move armies just because I exist.

It’s too much. I only want to worry about midterms. Those are stressful enough. I don’t want to add war to my plate.

You can’t just color-code war with highlighters and expect things to be okay.

A cool sweat forms on my back, and my vision darkens around the edges. I’m pretty sure I’m about to have a panic attack in front of everyone. That realization only makes it worse. My ears start to ring, blocking out the noise around me. The only sound making it through is my heartbeat, thundering in my ears.

I can’t breathe. The walls are starting to close in on me.

I try to gasp for air, but I’m distracted by the feeling of something touching my leg. I jolt in my seat as my leg is pulled up and placed on something firm. It takes me a second to realize Sin’s just grabbed my leg and is resting it on his thighs.

His fingers start tracing circles around my calf, and I try to pull back.

He doesn’t let me.

My cheeks flush, and I glance around the table, but no one is watching us. Sin looks like he’s comfortably sitting in his chair with his hands on his lap.

I narrow my eyes at him, and he winks, all the while continuing to massage my calf.

‘Stop it,’ I mouth at him.

He grins.

‘Make me,’ he mouths back.

He’s such a child.

Sin turns back to Morgana, effectively dismissing me.

Insufferable jerk.

The others continue to discuss the impending war, and it takes me a few minutes to realize I’m not panicking anymore. Sin distracted me long enough for my anxiety to stop spiralling. The realization has me frowning at my plate, picking at the food.

That makes no sense. Sin wouldn’t purposefully calm me down. He riles me up. The timing had to be a coincidence. He just grabbed me to annoy me and to drive home the fact that he can touch my body if he wants to.

I ignore how good his touch feels, trying to focus on my food.

Rosie whispers in my ear, “So, are you going to be up for it?”

“Up for what?” I ask, turning to her.

“The plan,” she answers, glancing at the others. “The one everyone just settled on.”

I choke on some bread.

Rosie pats my back as I try to inhale air instead of carbs.

“Sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts. What’s the plan?” I ask.

Sin must be listening in because he’s the one who answers.

“Us, kitten. We’re the plan.”

Chapter 27

Rule twenty-seven: Stop fantasizing about your partner.

I can’t sleep.

So much happened today that I think my body is stuck in a permanent adrenaline rush. It used to happen all the time when I moved to college. I would try to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I’d remember being tied to the tree. Stuck. So, I’d gotten into the habit of going for jogs at night to give my adrenaline an outlet.

Somehow, I feel like a jog isn’t going to do me much good tonight. I keep panicking about the stupid plan everyone agreed on. And no matter how much I argued, none of them relented. Instead, they very rationally noted that six against one was a solid vote and that I lost.

I don’t even have time to change their minds. Morgana is determined to gain allies as quickly as possible. She doesn’t like leaving her realm vulnerable. So tomorrow, we’re throwing a fancy party to discuss alliances with emissaries from all our potential allies. The party itself will be nerve-wracking, but Morgana also expects me to be the guest of honor. I’m going to have to walk around, shake hands with strangers and convince them that I can win their war.

Oh, and I have to do it with Sin on my arm.

Morgana thinks that if the emissaries believe Sin and I are in love, they’ll agree to side with us since the prophecy will be coming true.

They’re all demented.

Not only am I a horrible liar, but I’m also not a great small talker. This is not an introvert-friendly activity.

My anxiety keeps flaring up in my chest at the thought that I’m going to blow this for everyone.

I toss against the bed, feeling like my skin is crawling.

Moonlight streams into the room, and my window is open, allowing a gentle breeze to come through. Even with the breeze, I feel like the blankets are suffocating me.

I kick them off, groaning in frustration.

Tomorrow will be a big day, preparing for the party. How Morgana thinks we can throw an event this big with less than twenty-four hours’ notice is beyond me, but I’m not going to argue with her scheduling. Not when my energy is already drained from fuelling my anxiety.

I need to get some rest. Tossing some pillows onto the floor, I fall back with an agitated sigh.

It’s no use. I’m too wound up.

My body needs a release.

A release that was dangled in front of me more than once today. The thought has me remembering Sin’s mouth on me, and my body heats. I suppose if he didn’t finish what he started, then I can do it myself. My hands graze along my lacy bralette before I pull off my underwear.

Closing my eyes, I remember Sin’s hands on my inner thighs as I brush my fingers against my clit. I think about him pulling aside my underwear before sucking on my clit, and I whimper, rubbing soft circles against myself.

My finger dips inside of me, teasing, as I remember the feel of his tongue, tasting my very heat. My core tightens, and I repeat the action. I work myself faster, pretending that Sin’s hands are on me.

I pinch my clit and gasp his name, begging for more in my fantasy.

A dark chuckle at the foot of my bed stops me cold.

“You called for me, kitten?”

My eyes widen, and I gasp before scrambling up on the bed and slamming my legs shut. “Sin, what the hell! What are you doing in here?”

Sin leans against my dresser, his features hidden in the shadows, but I can feel his eyes on me.

“I told you the other night to call me if you needed me. You called.”

I scoff, “Not because I need you.”

“Undoubtedly. I can see you’re doing a great job of taking care of that yourself. Don’t stop on account of me.” His voice is low, and there’s no mistaking the desire underlying it.

My body responds, heating further.

“But you –” I start, flushing.

“I’m already in your fantasy. Now show me how you touch yourself when you think of me,” Sin whispers.

For once, his tone isn’t mocking.

A cloud shifts, and I get a glimpse of him. He’s shirtless and in a pair of dark sweats. My breath catches at how devastatingly attractive he looks. His hand moves to his pants, and he strokes himself once.

My core clenches. As much as I want him, it isn’t lost on me that Sin played a huge role in why I’m so wound up right now. He has far too much of a hold over me already, the way he drives me to the brink of madness. But maybe that can be a two-way street?

Embarrassment tries to claw its way to the surface, and I shove it away. “You can watch, but you don’t touch,” I order.

“Done,” Sin answers immediately.

Taking a breath, I center myself. There’s no room for insecurity right now. Sin and I are tied together, and after today, I have no doubt that there’s a sexual relationship building between us. One that I don’t want to be powerless in. If he wants to destroy me, I want the power to do the same to him.

Keeping my eyes locked on his, I slowly pull off my bralette. Sin’s eyes rake over my body, his gaze darkening.

I let my hands trace across my breasts, teasing at my nipples. They harden further, and I pinch them, a slight whimper escaping my lips.

“That’s it, kitten,” Sin coaxes, his voice sounding strained. “Show me what makes you purr.”

I lay back against the pillows so I still have a full view of him. My hand trails a path down my stomach. Knowing he’s here, watching, is making this so much more erotic. I can already feel myself dripping.

My fingers dip down further, and I spread my legs, completely baring myself.

Sin’s chest stops moving like he’s forgotten to breathe.

My fingers graze my clit, and I arch off the bed, the nub already overly sensitive. Sin steps closer, and I can clearly see the outline of his cock, straining against his pants.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers, his pupils blown as his gaze fixes on my pussy.

Emboldened by the fact that he’s getting turned on from watching me, I keep going. I let my fingers slip through my folds, coating them in the wetness there, before dipping a finger inside of me, moaning at the sensation.

“Fuck,” Sin whispers, sounding strangled.

I do it again, my hand grazing against my clit as I pull my finger out.

Another step, and Sin reaches the edge of my bed, his hands resting on the footboard. He looks starved as he watches me finger myself. I don’t stop and instead roll my hips to meet my hand, whimpering as the heat in my core continues to coil.

“Fuck. Add another finger for me, kitten,” Sin growls.

I pull my finger out slowly, letting him see the wetness coating it, before putting it in my mouth, sucking on it and a second digit.

Sin’s hands white-knuckle onto the footboard, and a sharp crack sounds as a piece of the wood snaps.

I ignore the destruction and open my thighs wider before adding the second finger.

“That’s my good girl,” Sin breathes.

My body heats under his praise, and I work myself harder, refusing to look away from him. I trail my other hand down my stomach to start circling my clit, and my breathing becomes erratic, getting even closer to the edge.

“That’s it, you’re so fucking close. One more, baby. Add one more finger,” Sin coaxes, his voice breathless.

I slip another finger in, stretching myself wide. I finger myself faster, drawing out a moan from my lips.

“Fuck, yes, kitten. Just like that. You’re doing so good. Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop,” Sin urges, and my body feels like it might combust.

I reach up to pinch at my nipple just as my fingers thrust into me. I whimper, so close I might snap.

“Now, kitten, come for me,” Sin demands, and I explode.

The orgasm hits me, and I yell Sin’s name as the waves of ecstasy course through me. The pleasure continues for long moments, and I don’t stop touching myself until every last aftershock has worn off.

When I’ve finally finished, I pull out my fingers, moving to wipe them clean, only to find Sin at the side of my bed.

He reaches out but pauses just before touching my hand. “Please?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that borders on pain.

At my nod, he takes my hand, and I go boneless as he sucks my fingers clean, one by one.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he growls when he finishes.

Even in the afterglow of my orgasm, there’s no mistaking his barely controlled desire. His hands twitch like he’s trying to stop himself from reaching for me again, the gray irises of his eyes almost entirely masked by his pupils.

“Let me touch you, kitten.” It’s not so much a question but a starved plea.

A new wave of heat courses through me, and I want to say yes. I want him touching me more than just about anything right now.

“No,” I whisper back. “You don’t get to tease me and leave me wanting the way you did today and not expect to be treated the same way.” My heart hammers in my chest when I set the boundary, waiting to see how he’s going to push it.

But instead, Sin stands. I watch him take a deep breath before he whispers, “You’re right.”

I tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Is this where he’ll get angry? Or maybe he’ll belittle me for thinking I’m deserving of equal treatment.

“Sweet dreams, kitten,” he adds, reaching for his blanket and covering me. Before I can say goodnight, he’s gone.

Chapter 28

Rule twenty-eight: Stop having sexually charged encounters with your partner.

The next day is so busy with party preparations that I don’t have any issue avoiding Sin, which is a relief since I can’t look him in the eye after what we did last night.

I’m trying to stay at least six feet away from him. I need the social distancing. Otherwise, I become flushed all over again, and I can’t quite tell if that’s from the embarrassment or the desire for him that doesn’t seem to be lessening.

I’m not too proud to admit that I’m running from my problems. But as of this moment, I don’t see a better way to deal with the growing attraction. Not when there’s a prophecy looming above my head, stating that I’m going to love a Destroyer.

Falling in love with Sin is entirely off-limits. First, because my life is complicated enough as it is. Second, because men are the root of all my problems, and I’ve sworn off them. Third, because Sin doesn’t love me, and he’s an asshole. And finally, he would break my heart.

So, no thanks.

Did I write that list in one of my notebooks this morning, color-coding the reasons by their severity?

Yes.

But only because it will help me remember them.

Morgana has handed off party planning to Rosie, and much to my surprise, the sweet, soft-spoken fairy has become an absolute terror. Seriously, I’d rather lick the underside of Dr. Parnard’s foot than disobey her right now. Morgana is away, letting all our potential allies know about the event, and she only left vague instructions to Rosie.

Namely, the party should be in the Shadow Realm but well away from the castle and any villages. You’d think that Rosie would be flexible, given the loose guidelines, but she has a vision and made it amply clear that we will make it happen. It took her all of two minutes to decide on a spot, a large clearing by a huge sparkling lake, far beyond one side of the forest of the forgotten dead. After apparating in the team to the location, Sin got to work building extra wards. At the same time, Magnus and Damien started apparating in an army of cooks, decorators, and other citizens of the Shadow Realm, all thrilled to be at Rosie’s command.

Arianna and I are paired together today, since the party is on the other side of the realm, and she can apparate us back and forth. I’m relieved to see that she’s already looking healthier, especially when she threatened to blind me when I suggested she take it easy.

Our job is to bring ‘the fancy wine,’ as Rosie explained.

She fills me in on the updated wards as she dusts off wine bottles and hands them to me, deep in the cellars. “The Realm’s wards are highly selective. Only a handful of us can apparate in without passing out, and no one not cleared under Morgana can apparate near or into her castle. Morgana is imbuing the emissaries now as she passes out invitations. Only people she imbues can apparate into the area Sin is warding. Once they’re in Sin’s wards, they can only apparate back to their own realms.”

“The whole intricate wards thing still makes no sense to me,” I answer. “Can’t the guests just leave the wards and then apparate into other areas of the Shadow Realm?”

Arianna grins, and the same mischievous look I see in Cassandra’s memories is reflected in it. “That’s why the location is tactically sound. All our potential allies know about the forest of the forgotten dead. And no sane creature would ever venture into there. Sin will pull the wards a few hundred feet into the forest. Between that and the water, no one is leaving the bubble.”

A pang of anxiety hits my gut, but I nod, accepting that the others have been playing at war for a lot longer than I have.

After a full day of party preparation, I’m too worn out to worry about the wards or the socializing I’m about to do. It took a huge team of people and a solid ten hours of hard labor, but finally, I take in the completed sight.

I have to hand it to her. Rosie can throw together a party.

The clearing has a few trees interspersed through the grassy field, and Rosie had huge flowers enchanted to float between them, each glowing a different color. Along the right, long tables stretch on for ages, though they haven’t been stocked with food just yet.

Beyond the buffet table, tall wooden tables dot the field, leaving room for mingling and snacking. To the left, Rosie has enchanted part of the field to look like a skating rink, only it isn’t slippery. The area is large, which allows for dancing as the night goes on. Small lights dance below the ice’s surface.

The effect is magical.

Rosie spots Arianna and I taking in the scenery and flies towards us. Her pink wings twitch, even once she’s touched the ground. “What are you two still doing here? The party starts in two hours. You should be getting ready,” she scolds us.

Arianna raises a brow. “Rosie, sweetie, shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

I can’t help but nod in response. Rosie has gone hard all day. If anyone deserves a break, it’s her.

Rosie gives us both an exasperated look. “Don’t be ridiculous, both of you. I’m a fairy. I don’t need time to get ready. I glamor.”

With that, she twirls, and her leggings and backless tank are replaced by an elegant, pink, open-backed dress. It tapers to a V on one of her calves, and her hair is now pinned up in a French chignon.

I gape.

Arianna rolls her eyes. “Show off. You look amazing, Rosie.”

“Are you sure you don’t need more help here?” I ask.

Rosie’s wings twitch again as she starts gently pushing us away. “No, no. I’m fine. Arianna, make sure Vivian looks the part. I apparated your things up to your room earlier today.”

I pause, but Rosie snaps, “Now!”

That does the trick. Arianna grabs my arm, and we apparate away.

We land back in the hallway in front of my room. Arianna points to my door. “Go shower, and I’ll help you with your hair afterward.”

Planting a hand on my hip, I raise a brow at her. “You’re getting way too comfortable bossing me around. You do remember I’m older than you, right?”

Arianna bursts out laughing. “Vivian – I’ve been alive this entire time you were doing whatever before being reincarnated. You’re just confused because I’m aging better than you.”

I gasp and try to pinch her arm, but Arianna just jumps away laughing, heading down the corridor to her room.

I huff, deciding I’ll get her back later, and head into my room.

It’s strange feeling so comfortable with people so quickly.

Maybe it’s because of the looming threat of death by the Council. Trauma bonding sounds likely. Still, it’s nice to feel like I belong here.

The thought shakes me.

I don’t belong here.

No matter how much this room feels like home, and the others are starting to feel like family, this isn’t my realm. I need to focus on making sure my friends back home are okay.

The guilt stabs at me, and I try to stamp it down. Being in the Shadow Realm and building trust with the people here, it’s all working toward a common goal.

Peace.

And if I want peace, then I need to perform tonight.

With that thought, I head to the bathroom, washing off all the sweat and dust that accumulated on me today. The wine cellars looked like they were part of a haunted house, with all the cobwebs and dust. I’m pretty sure I’m wearing half the cobwebs in my hair right now.

Once I’m scrubbed, shaved and fully moisturized, I step back into my room, wrapped in a fluffy towel. Arianna is waiting for me, already dressed in a long black dress. It has a halter neck and no sleeves. The dress becomes a sheer black lace above her knees and trails to the ground. Her hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail, the light color contrasting her dress perfectly.

My brows lift when I take her in. “First of all, wow. Second, how the hell did you do that so fast?”

Arianna grins. “A lady never tells.” She pats my bed. “Now, sit and let me work some magic.”

She starts adding rollers to my hair, and once they’re in, she fusses with my face. “Stop squirming.”

I grimace. “Ari, I think you’re great and all, but I can’t keep my eyes open when you’re coming at me with a pencil.”

I have done my makeup plenty of times, but I’ve never let someone else do it for me. Watching the sharp pencil near my eyes is unnerving.

Arianna sighs, “Look, you are the guest of honor tonight. You need to shine if we’re going to convince people to go to war with us. So, you’re going to put on your big girl panties and let me do your makeup, got it?” She finishes the statement by holding up a lacey black thong.

I grab at it. “This isn’t mine.”

I like it, though. There’s a small opening at the back, where two silk ribbons crisscross into an ‘x.’

“Rosie had our entire outfits ordered new. Here.” She throws a bra at me. It’s a matching lace, but there’s no backing.

I hesitate. “Uhm, how?”

I don’t see any hint of lingerie tape in the bra. How is it supposed to stay on?

Arianna pulls her dress aside to reveal a similar bra. “They’re charmed!” she notes, smiling. “It will stay on and push up your boobs until you want it off. The stockings are the same. They won’t ride down unless you want them to.”

I take the stockings from her, gaping at them. “That is the coolest thing I’ve seen here,” I note, seriously impressed.

Arianna grins and turns around. “Now, put them on. We’re getting you dressed before I finish your hair.”

By the time Arianna is finished with me, I hardly recognize myself. I’m dressed in a long silk emerald gown. It falls loosely around my legs, and there’s a long slit going almost all the way up my thigh. The dress has two small straps but has an open back, so low that I’m seriously concerned my thong will show if I shift the wrong way. But Arianna assures me there’s a charm for that, too.

She’s styled my hair in loose, elegant waves and pinned half of it so it flows over one of my shoulders. My makeup is simple but brings out the blue of my eyes.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” I say from the bathroom, swirling to try and see more of my dress in front of the mirror.

Arianna beams. “You’re a masterpiece!”

I spin, loving the silky feel of the dress, swishing against me, but pause when I look at my exposed arms.

“Did Rosie send a wrap or something?” I ask, eyeing my old scars and the newer scratches from the forsaken.

“Absolutely not,” Arianna answers, her voice like steel. “Own the battle scars. Wear them with pride.”

I cringe at the marks but nod.

“You’re going to do great tonight,” Arianna promises, heading to my door. “I’ll see you down there.”

“Wait, we aren’t going together?” I ask, confused. “How am I supposed to get halfway around the realm in time?”

Arianna rolls her eyes as she opens the door. “You’re not. You and your fated boyfriend are going together.”

I freeze. “Ari, no. I can go with you, I’ll see Sin there. It’s fine.”

Arianna steps out the door and turns back to me, grinning like a maniac. “See you later, Vivian. And try not to smudge the makeup,” she finishes before apparating out of sight.

I frown at the spot where she just stood.

Well, that was dramatic. Why open the door if she was just going to apparate out?

My thoughts are answered a second later when Sin appears in the doorway.

I am so unbelievably screwed.

The man is dressed all in black, save for a small green silk square in his shirt pocket that perfectly matches my dress. His beard has been trimmed back and neatened. It does nothing to tame his warlord appearance. He still looks deadly.

My stomach does a flip, and I swallow, trying to remember how to small talk.

Sin looks me up and down twice before frowning as he walks to me.

My insecurities flood back at his expression. “What? I told Arianna to let me wear a shawl to hide them, but she vetoed the idea.”

Sin pauses a few feet before me, looking confused. “Hide what?”

I flush, hating that he’s making me spell it out. “The scars,” I mutter, staring at the floor and ready to wear a raincoat if it means avoiding this conversation.

“Why the fuck do you think I’m looking at your scars?” Sin asks incredulously.

My eyes shoot back to his. “You looked at me, and you frowned. I assumed.”

My insecurity is quickly being replaced by irritation with Sin.

What a promising start to the evening.

Sin narrows his eyes. “I’m still waiting on the names of whoever gave you those scars,” he says before pausing and giving me a pointed look. “But for now, I’m frustrated because you’re unarmed, aren’t you?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m too taken aback by his words.

Sin steps forward, and he’s back to invading my bubble.

He’s been doing it more and more these past few days.

“Answer me, kitten. Were you about to go into a crowd of people, who we have no formal ties to, without a weapon?” he asks.

I chew on my lower lip, likely messing up some of Arianna’s makeup, trying to find a way to answer him so I don’t look like an idiot.

I’m unsuccessful.

Sin reaches over, pulling my lip from my teeth and tilting my chin so I’m looking up at him. His gray eyes are darker, almost stormy.

“I forgot,” I whisper.

Sin growls, releasing my chin. I take a step back, but he follows me.

“So, are you ready to go back to being a Council whore then? Expecting everyone else to fight for you?” His voice is cruel.

I keep backing up, not wanting to be so close to him, especially while he’s being mean. But Sin just stalks me across the room until my back is pressed against the wall.

“You know that’s not true,” I snap, my voice a bit louder than expected.

Sin cages me between him and the wall, but he doesn’t press himself against me.

“Then do better, kitten,” he hisses, still very angry.

He kneels in front of me, and I stare at him, confused for a moment, until he lifts my foot and slips something around it. He pushes it up my leg, using the slit in my dress to gain access to my upper thigh.

His hands brush against my stockings, burning a path everywhere they touch. My breathing picks up.

So screwed.

Once satisfied with the object, Sin looks up at me, and I can still see the fire behind his eyes. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls something out, clipping it onto the band around my thigh.

It’s a small, sheathed dagger.

His fingers graze my exposed skin, just over the elastic of my stocking, and my eyes flutter. But his touch is fleeting, and he straightens up, letting my dress fall back to the ground.

The dagger is invisible but easily within reach.

“Thank you,” I breathe, trying to remember that I’m annoyed at him.

Sin eyes me again, but this time, he nods, seemingly satisfied. “You look stunning.”

I swallow. “You look nice too. Are you ready to go fool everyone?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

“Almost,” Sin answers before taking my waist and spinning me to face the wall.

I’m about to look over my shoulder at him to figure out what he’s up to when his hands reach around my neck.

I inhale but don’t move as he gently moves my hair. A moment later, something small and metallic is on my chest, and I look down to find a small, golden necklace. There’s a pendant at the end, the same one that Sin wears around his neck. My eyes jump to my dresser, where I keep forgetting to give back his necklace, only to realize it’s already gone.

“I’ve already retrieved mine,” he notes, and I release the breath I forgot I was holding.

“Thank you,” I whisper, eyeing the necklace and not letting myself get emotional.

This is just an act.

Sin kisses the mark he left on my neck, and goosebumps erupt over my body at the contact.

“We don’t have to fool anyone, kitten,” he notes as one of his hands trails down my exposed back.

I shudder. “What do you mean? Our allies expect us to be together.”

Sin bites the mark, and I gasp, arousal pooling in my lower belly at his touch. “Wouldn’t you call this being together?” Sin whispers before sucking at the spot again, no doubt making it even more obvious for the party.

“I think,” I inhale, trying to focus on the task at hand. “I think we are sexually attracted to each other.”

Sin’s hand circles my hips, and his fingers brush against my center. I arch into his touch.

“But that’s it. I think you’re an ass, and this is just lust.” My insult falls a little short, given the breathless hitch in my voice from the way he’s teasing me.

Sin only laughs at my comment, pinching my clit. I gasp, my hands flying to the wall for support.

“Go ahead and hate me, kitten. Throw all your anger at me. It’s only going to feel that much better when I ruin you.” Sin’s voice is filled with dark promises, and I try to spin around to face him. But his arms only tighten, stopping me.

“Think about how good it’s going to feel. When my cock stretches your pussy, and I fuck you so hard, you forget how to breathe. Because I will ruin you, and you’re going to love it. Focus on that tonight and not the people you’re trying to fool,” he finishes, letting me go.

I am so turned on by his words that I am seriously considering fucking Sin on my bed, just once before the party, to get him out of my system.

I turn to him and pause at his smug expression.

That’s when it hits me.

He’s just winding me up to distract me from my anxiety so that I don’t mess up tonight.

Oh god. Has he been doing that the entire time? Manipulating me so I’ll go along with his plans? My stomach drops at the thought.

“Fuck you, Sin,” I hiss, glaring at him.

Sin only grins as he takes my hand. “That’s my girl,” he notes, and then we apparate out of the room.

Chapter 29

Rule twenty-nine: Do not slay the party guests.

We land on the outskirts of the party, and my heart just about jumps into my throat when I take it all in.

There are a lot of people here.

At least a few hundred individuals mill about the field, most with drinks in hand or small plates of food. The buffet tables overflow with food and beverages, and a band is set up in one corner of the field. A haunting melody echoes over to us, only slightly audible over the sounds of all the voices. No one has noticed us yet, and I’m grateful as I take a moment to remember how to breathe.

Sin’s hand rests on my lower back, but I don’t let myself lean into him for support. His fingers trace small shapes over my exposed skin, and I try to ignore the goosebumps that trail along the wake of his touch.

“You need to stop doing that,” I warn.

Sin only arches an eyebrow, letting his hand trail up my spine. “Doing what?”

I stiffen. “Pretending to be into me, so I’ll go along with your plans.”

There, I’ve said it. The blatant truth that is so obvious I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. I’m too gullible, and the thought that I’ve just jumped into the arms of a new puppet master makes me want to throw up.

Sin is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

The party is still oblivious to us, and I try to make a graceful escape from this conversation. But Sin finds my arm first, spinning me to face him.

Oh fuck.

His tattoos are faintly glowing.

He glares down at me, taking a deep inhale before starting, “If I wanted to deceive you into going along with our plans, I could control your mind. So easily that you’d be begging for ways to help us.”

I frown, suppressing a shudder. “But you –”

“I. Fucking. Want. You.” His gaze burns into mine, and he says the words slowly, emphasizing each syllable before continuing, “Every time you talk back to me, all I can think about is you gagging on my cock, to shut you up. Every time we’re in the same room, I want to bury myself so fucking deep inside of you that you’ll feel me for days afterwards. I wanted you when I thought you were a Council whore. And now that I know you aren’t, it’s bordering on fucking obsession. The thought of someone else touching you makes me see red. I want you, and it’s driving me to madness.”

The rest of the world fades away, and I gape at him, trying to remember how to speak.

Sin wants me.

I flush, squeezing my thighs together. He notices and takes another sharp inhale, his eyes heating.

“It’s a bad idea,” I note, swallowing. “With the prophecy and everything else going on.”

I want to fuck his brains out.

I want his hands all over me.

“I couldn’t fucking stop even when I thought you were a Fates-damned Council spy who was pining over that piece of shit, Leon. Believe me, kitten, I tried,” he says, glaring at me.

My brow furrows, trying to think of what Sin did when we first met. “You left.”

“Yes. And it didn’t work. All I could think about was whether you’d fall out of your fucking window again,” he bites back.

I open my mouth to argue that I didn’t fall, but he continues, “And when I got back, only to find Damien’s hands on you, I almost lost it. And then again, when he and Magnus were healing you. At that moment, I considered killing some of the few people I trust. I have tried to hate you, to make you hate me. Anything to stop this.”

The anger that laces his words does nothing to stop the fluttering sensation in my chest or the erratic beat of my pulse.

“So where does that leave us?” I ask, swallowing back my panic at the thought that protecting my heart from this man just got significantly more difficult.

Sin grips the nape of my neck, gently pulling me towards him. “I’ve tried fighting it, kitten.” His eyes search mine as if looking for any hint that I might want him to pull away. “But I lost that battle. I’m done fighting against whatever this is. I want you, and from this moment forward, I’m fighting to make you scream you’re mine.”

With those words, all rational thought is lost to him. It feels as though an electric current buzzes between us, and my eyes drop to his lips. Sin doesn’t miss the gesture, sweeping me up so his lips can reach mine.

“Well, if it isn’t the happy couple,” a man calls out before our mouths connect. The voice startles me out of our small bubble, and Sin gently sets me down as we remember where we are.

Our attention shifts to the man walking towards us. He’s well dressed, in a deep maroon shirt and black pants. His long black hair is tied behind his neck, and a black goatee gives him a devilish look. Immediately, I try to give the stranger a warm smile, remembering I need to make allies tonight. Sin’s hand shifts under the open back of my dress to rest at my waist.

“Artorix,” Sin greets. His voice isn’t warm.

At this point, I’ve decided that powerful men must have zero diplomacy skills. Likely because they’ve never had to work a customer service job in their lives.

That would explain so much.

The man pauses before us, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. Sin’s tattoos start to glow a faint red. But instead of responding with a healthy dose of fear, Artorix laughs, delighted. He doesn’t release my hand.

“I see the rumors are true. Destroyers are very possessive of their mates. How quaint.” His tone is dripping with insincerity, and I yank my hand back.

He turns to me, leering at my body. “Artorix Parvignis, of the Underworld Realm. Council member for many millennia now. How do you do?”

Something about this man is giving off major slimy vibes, and it’s all I can do to keep the polite smile locked on my face.

“Vivian Ryans, of the Mortal Realm. Pleased to meet you,” I add, hoping I sound friendly.

Sin gives me some context, saving me from conversing further, “Artorix’s realm has been under Council rule for longer than most can remember.”

The underworld is ruled by the Council? I wonder if that has something to do with all the souls being used as slaves. I file away the information to ask Sin and Morgana about it later.

“Yes, so intrusive, that Council. Putting their noses where they don’t belong,” Artorix notes, sounding menacing. “Speaking of being where you don’t belong, Vivian, I recall seeing you not long ago at the Council’s Castle. You were with a very different Destroyer there. Getting greedy, are we?”

Sin’s hand tightens around my waist, and his tattoos glow brighter. Not good.

The man is trying to provoke me. I’m not sure why, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he succeeded. Instead of letting the party end before we’ve had a chance to make any allies, I leer at him like he did at me, only to look back at him with distaste. “I just know a better thing when I see it. Speaking of which, Sin, I think there are important people for us to meet with tonight. Shall we?”

Artorix’s face twists with rage for a split second before masking back to polite humor. “Such spirit, for a mortal.”

We walk away from Artorix, and Sin leans over to kiss the top of my head before whispering, “That’s my good girl.”

I feel his praise in areas I shouldn’t.

Artorix calls out to us before we’re swallowed up by the rest of the party, “Do be careful with her, Sin. Mortals are so breakable.”

I roll my eyes, and Sin looks ahead, his face giving away nothing.

The next hour is spent bouncing between party attendees. All are curious about how I ended up with Sin, and I become way too good at telling them about how I was supposed to kill him but that I fell in love instead. Honestly, I blame my romance novel addiction for how well the story is coming out.

Classic enemies to lovers. Easy peasy.

Sin leads us towards yet another group of emissaries when we are stopped by three stunningly beautiful women. All three have long wheat-blond hair and blue eyes that are so pale they are almost devoid of color. They each wear long white silk dresses, though there’s just enough difference in the cut that they aren’t exact carbon copies of each other. There’s a glow about them that reminds me of Damien, but their radiance only shines skin deep, as evidenced by the disgusted looks they give me.

I guess mean girls transcend the boundaries of space and time too.

Shame.

“Llayella, Gabrielle, and Rhiannon,” Sin greets them, but once again, his tone is cold.

Though apparently, the twisted sisters don’t mind. The one in the center, Gabrielle, turns to him with a seductive smile. “Sin. Such a pleasure to visit you in the Shadow Realm. You should have mentioned you were looking for a plaything. We could have helped you.”

The one to her right, Llayella, chimes in, giving Sin an eerily similar smile. “Truly, we would still be delighted to help you find someone more… worthy,” she adds, wrinkling her nose at me at the last word.

My spine stiffens, and the last one, Rhiannon, who hasn’t stopped staring at me, narrows her eyes. “She doesn’t look powerful.”

Thus far, Sin and I have been hinting at my having great power, but we don’t say it outright. There’s no use in giving the Council more information than we want if word gets out to them. Still, before now, most of our prospective allies have been intrigued, and most have walked away looking hopeful or impressed.

Why do I feel like these women may be an exception?

“I would wager she’s as weak as a mouse.” Gabrielle grins. “Sin, stop this madness and come dance with me,” she orders.

An unexpected bolt of rage fires through my spine, and I inhale deeply, trying to shove it back into the box where it belongs. Sin goes rigid but says nothing. Instead, he quirks an eyebrow at me to see if I want to handle this on my own.

At our lack of response, Gabrielle steps forward, moving to place her hand on Sin’s arm.

The bolt of rage becomes white-hot, and in an instant, my dagger is pressed against her throat, humming a faint purple before her flesh ever connects with Sin’s. “Touch what is mine, and I will cut your hands off and feed them to you,” I hiss.

There is some major Cassandra channelling happening, and I couldn’t be happier to have access to her memories. It is doing things for my badass bitch image.

Slay, Queen. I mentally cheer myself on.

Gabrielle freezes, her eyes widening a touch before scowling at Sin. “What is the meaning of this?” she demands, and her sisters reach for their own weapons.

Sin’s tattoos flare a deep red, freezing their actions before they ever touch the weapons. “I believe my mate just told you not to touch me.” He pauses to press himself more closely against my back, running his lips across my head before continuing, “If she lets you live after the insults you’ve thrown at her, I suggest you leave immediately because I will not be so benevolent.”

“I – I – I’m sorry,” Gabrielle stutters, now looking at me like she’s terrified.

Her fear cuts through my rage, and I sheath my blade but don’t show them an ounce of remorse. We’re play-acting tonight, and that means Sin and I need to be strong.

“Leave. Now,” I demand, and the sisters don’t need to be told twice, as they run for the small section of the wards, specifically designed to allow them to apparate back to their own realm.

“Did I just blow it?” I whisper, now realizing I likely messed up a potential alliance.

“No, kitten, you were fucking phenomenal,” he growls against the top of my head, pressing me even closer to him.

“You weren’t really going to kill them, were you?” I ask, assuming he was just putting on a show.

I can feel him smile against my head.

“You wouldn’t,” I reaffirm, mostly for my own benefit.

Sin answers with a dark laugh, “You keep telling yourself that.”

Chapter 30

Rule thirty: If someone is worth stabbing once, then they’re worth stabbing twice.

After another hour of making small talk with people whose names I will never remember, Sin leads us to one of the smaller tables by the edge of the forest.

I sag against it, exhaustion starting to take hold, while Sin continuously scans the guests.

“Do you think anyone else saw the blade glow?” I ask in a hushed tone.

The worry has been living rent-free in my mind since the incident, but Sin only shrugs. “It’s likely they did. It will only further support the whispers that you’re very powerful.”

I sigh, relieved. “I’m sorry for calling you mine,” I add, remembering how Leon was obsessed with the term. I don’t want to make Sin feel objectified.

That comment has Sin’s attention turning back to me. “Why would you apologize for that?”

“Because it was a lie to get them to back off,” I explain, fighting the flush in my cheeks.

I mentally kick myself for trying to take the high road and apologizing.

But of course, Sin is focused on me and notices. He smirks. “It didn’t sound like a lie, kitten.”

I turn away from him, looking out at the crowd as I mutter back, “It was a lie.”

What a filthy liar I’m turning out to be. I am in no way ready to start to unpack the possessiveness I felt the moment Gabrielle tried to place her hand on Sin. So, instead of trying to make sense of it, I blame Cassandra’s memories and shove the thought away where it won’t distract me tonight.

Mercifully, Sin lets the subject drop when we spot yet another group of emissaries, whom we have yet to speak to, waving at us.

I sigh, “Can I take a small break? Just to collect myself?”

I’ve had more small talk tonight than most of my life. My social batteries are running dangerously low, and I know that if I don’t take a breather, I’m going to crash hard.

Sin eyes me, almost looking concerned, before he motions to Rosie, who is flitting between tables not far away, to come over. “Don’t move from this spot. Understood? Rosie, apparate her away if danger comes,” he orders, not leaving room for argument.

“Of course,” Rosie chirps, and the faint sound of alarm bells carries with her voice.

Sin looks back at me, and there’s a warning in his expression. “Stay out of trouble,” he grumbles.

I frown at him, mildly insulted. “I don’t get in trouble.”

Sin rolls his eyes and pulls me to him, kissing my forehead before striding away.

“You know, you guys are really convincing as a couple,” Rosie notes as she stands beside me at the table.

I huff at her words, “We’re acting. Sin and I don’t even like each other,” I add, using the automatic answer I keep telling myself.

Rosie just grins, and I turn away from her to stare at the small, empty plate in front of me. “Huh, I guess the castle enchantment doesn’t come out this far.”

“What castle enchantment?” Rosie asks, confused.

I motion to the plate. “The enchantment on the castle. You know, the one that makes all the food and automatically fills our plates.”

I’ve rarely bothered lifting the serving spoon, deciding I trust the castle’s enchantment to make better dietary choices than me. So far, it has yet to disappoint.

Rosie purses her lips in response, looking like she’s trying her best not to laugh at me.

I frown at her. “What?”

“Vivian, there is no food enchantment. One of us apparates in the food from the Shadow Realm cities. And someone else has been filling your plate for you when you’re not looking.” Rosie looks like she’s having the time of her life, watching me figure this out.

There went my goal to be more aware of my surroundings. I thought I was doing so well, too. Which now begs the question. Who would bother to fill my plate and do it without me noticing them?

The moment I ask myself, I already know the answer. Rosie wouldn’t have bothered to try and hide the fact that she was feeding me.

Still, I ask, “Who?”

I hope I’m wrong.

“Sin, of course. It’s kind of sweet how you both try to act like you don’t like each other,” Rosie answers, winking at me.

I’m speechless.

My plate filled with food, even before Sin and I found a way to coexist. He was feeding me, even when he thought the worst of me.

That makes no sense at all.

Why?

I turn to ask Rosie but am shocked to see her slumping back, eyes rolling behind her head. My stomach drops, but a hard voice stops me cold before I can shout out. “Make a single sound, mortal, and your friend dies.”

Artorix is behind her, a dagger pressed against Rosie’s side.

He whispers in Rosie’s ear, and she stands upright, her eyes still rolling back into her head. “Come with me without alerting anyone, or she dies,” he says when he turns back to me. His posture is relaxed, almost bored, but there’s no mistaking the icy death in his eyes.

My heart thunders in my chest, and I turn to try and spot Sin in the crowd. But Artorix isn’t having it and digs his knife further into Rosie’s side. “I’m not the patient type, Miss Ryans.”

Swallowing, I look at Rosie. It’s a no-brainer. Rosie is my friend, and I refuse to let anything happen to her. “Where are we going?”

Artorix nods to the forest not far behind us. “The forest will serve us well.”

My instincts are screaming at me not to go in there, not because of the scary creatures that used to inhabit it, but because leaving the party with this man is a death sentence, and I know it.

Still, I turn and walk towards the forest as slowly as I dare, hoping Sin will spot us. Footsteps follow behind me, and I know Artorix and Rosie are there.

“You don’t want to enter these woods,” I start, but Artorix only scoffs.

“I already know your forest is empty,” he snaps. “It took all of two seconds to pull that information out of Rosie, the first time I possessed her tonight.”

The first time… I guess that might be why the alarm bells followed Rosie when Sin called her over. I wonder who else he managed to speak to.

We keep walking in silence until the sounds of the party have dimmed to near-nothing. The forest still clings to its eerie quiet, despite the loss of the forsaken. I focus on Artorix’s steps, relying on the sound of crunching leaves to assure myself he isn’t about to attack. But despite my added concentration, I still jump when he shoves Rosie onto the ground. Rosie makes no effort to stop the fall, and she crumples into a heap. She looks like a zombie.

“What did you do to her?” I demand, wanting to run to her side but not daring to take my eyes off him.

“Just a remnant Underworld power. I believe mortals are still somewhat familiar with the act of possession,” he answers, stalking closer to me.

“What do you want?” I ask, keeping my voice hard.

Don’t show fear, Vivian.

His voice is emphatic when he answers, “I want for nothing, Miss Ryans. And that is my problem with you. You see, my colleagues and I have secured a vastly comfortable life through our cooperation with the Council. And unfortunately, we won’t be endorsing your war. In fact –” he pauses, wagging his dagger as if to scold me. “A war is quite unacceptable. So, you understand why you must die.”

My blood chills at hearing one of my worst fears come to light. A supernatural being wants to kill me.

That’s a fairly big problem to have.

My mind starts spinning as I try to figure out how to get out of this. How do I escape someone with the ability to possess others? Does his power need touch in order to work?

He steps closer, his dagger glinting in the moonlight that spills through the trees.

Panic edges into my mind, but I push it back, focusing on how to stay alive. I break down the problem. Artorix wants to kill me, and I need to stall him. I know it won’t take long before someone notices I’m gone.

“So, is that your brilliant plan? Kill me and apparate away? You don’t think Sin will notice you’ve left?” I let a touch of criticism leach into my tone, hoping it will egg him on and he’ll ramble longer.

Of course, it could also backfire, and he could kill me instantly. But thankfully, I only think of that risk after the words have left my mouth.

Artorix chuckles. “No, you idiot. Do you not know the protection that is in this area right now? No visitor can apparate out, not outside of the designated apparition spots, or without Morgana’s express permission. That’s why I need you out here, away from prying eyes. Once I kill you and Rosie, no one will have any reason to suspect me. I’ll be back at the party, where everyone I’ve possessed will swear I never left their side. Not long after I’ve mingled some more, I’ll take my leave, never arousing suspicion.”

He looks pleased with his evil mastermind speech, and my stomach twists, hearing he plans on killing Rosie next.

No, no, no. I can’t let that happen. But no one saw us leave. Sin’s words from earlier echo in my mind. I keep expecting others to save me.

The grim reality slaps me in the face.

No one will find us on time.

Either I act, or Rosie and I are dead.

I guess it’s time to learn if Artorix needs physical contact in order to possess someone.

Slowly, I step away from him, lifting my skirts as if preparing to run away. Fear finally bleeds through into my expression, but it’s controlled. I want him to know I’m scared.

Artorix sneers, closing the distance between us. “So eager to leave your own party, Miss Ryans?”

Just as he reaches me, I grab my dagger, stabbing him in his stomach.

Ignoring Cassandra’s memories that insist I should ensure I’ve finished the job, I run to Rosie, trying to pull her up. “Rosie, come on, we have to go.”

Artorix screams, but the sound is filled with rage, not pain. I turn to see him standing a few feet away, the deep gash in his stomach knitting itself together.

Oh fuck.

This is not good.

“You will pay for that, mortal filth!” he yells, lifting his blade before running for me.

Letting go of Rosie’s still-lifeless body, I meet him halfway, hoping to put some distance between him and Rosie.

He stabs at me wildly, and I dance around his strikes, making sure to never let him touch me.

Think Vivian, think!

I can’t kill him. He’s clearly some kind of immortal or a creature with very accelerated healing. While I’m not positive he won’t bleed out if I cut him enough times, doing so would risk letting him touch me, and I can’t do that.

Dodging him yet again, I make a decision. If I can’t kill Artorix, I need someone who can. Rather than continuing to try and guard Rosie, I start angling my steps, backing up just a little further every time he strikes at me. I slash out every now and again, cutting his arms just enough to make him scream while I painstakingly slowly lead him back to the party.

If Sin could notice I’m gone, that would be great.

Artorix lunges for me again, and I stab into his side before jumping away. He screams, the sound carrying. I don’t dare yell for help, out of fear he’ll repossess Rosie and use her as a hostage. I need to keep him angry and out of control so his focus is on killing me.

I stab him repeatedly, but Artorix doesn’t stop. He takes each hit of my blade, his body healing within seconds. My legs cramp from dodging his attacks, and I’m ready to never wear heels again.

I’m getting weaker, and Artorix knows it. He grins, his teeth smeared in blood, as he steps closer to me again. “You can’t win this. You’re nothing but a lowly mortal. You cannot kill me.”

I jump from the swipe of his blade, and my eyes catch something rapidly approaching behind him. I grin as I make another jab for his kidneys. “I don’t need to kill you. I just needed to draw you out.”

I take another step back, sheathing my dagger.

Artorix pauses, his confusion replaced by horror as he realizes I’m smiling at someone behind him.

Sin’s tattoos glow a bright red, his eyes wholly replaced by the same light. He doesn’t hesitate to grab Artorix by the throat and lifts him off the ground without effort. The action takes all of a heartbeat, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“Did he hurt you?” he growls.

I shake my head, offering Sin a reassuring smile. “He tried to kill me, but he kind of sucked at it.”

Sin’s answering roar shakes the earth beneath us before his attention turns to the man who is rapidly turning a new shade of purple. Artorix flails in Sin’s grip, still suspended in midair as he claws at Sin’s hands. Sin doesn’t flinch, and his anger radiates off him in waves. I step around him, a strange stab of pride hitting me when I realize I was successful. The forest opens just beyond Sin, and the entire party is there, all turned with rapt attention on us.

I managed to lure him back.

I’m counting that as a win.

Sin is at my side a second later, and his voice echoes out over the crowd as he continues to hold Artorix up by his throat, “You dared to attack what is mine. Let it be known what happens to those who touch her.”

Artorix struggles even harder at Sin’s words, but his efforts are in vain. The moment Sin stops speaking, Artorix dissolves into nothingness, as if he had never existed at all.

The crowd goes deathly silent, and Sin reaches for me, pulling me to his side. His mouth comes down on top of my head, and I feel him take a shuddering inhale before he kisses my temple and straightens out again.

“The party is over. Go home and tell your people. You’re either with us or against us. Choose wisely because war is coming,” Sin calls out before we apparate away from the party.

We land back in one of the sitting rooms in Morgana’s castle, and I immediately panic at the thought that Rosie is still crumpled in the forest.

What if there are bears?

Or worse, more men.

“We have to go back. He had Rosie under possession. She’s still in the forest,” I demand.

Sin’s expression is hard, and he doesn’t budge. “Artorix is dead. His possession died with it. Rosie is fine.”

I sigh, relieved to hear she’ll be okay.

My relief is short-lived, though, when I realize that Sin is still glaring. Immediately, I glower back. I’m not sure what his problem is now, but I assume it has something to do with the fact that I followed the sketchy underworld man into the woods. Which is an entirely unfair judgement, given Artorix had Rosie, but hey, if we’re playing ‘let’s be angry for stupid reasons,’ I’m coming out on top this time.

“What the hell took you so long?” I demand, poking him in the chest.

“What?” Sin whispers, barely containing his rage. He’s still glowing red.

Something must be wrong with me because I’m not even remotely worried. “You heard me. I held him off for ages in that forest, making sure he didn’t kill Rosie. I couldn’t kill him with my flimsy dagger, could I? So, I stalled him. And you took your sweet time coming to find me.”

Sin’s jaw is clenched so tightly that I’m worried for his teeth. His body is rigid like he’s ready to jump down my throat. “You –” he starts, his voice accusing. His hands fist and un-fist at his sides. “He could have –”

“I followed the crazy person into the woods because he was threatening to kill our friend. He tried to hurt me, but he didn’t. Because I was armed. Because you made sure of it. And because I’m not useless,” I snap at him.

I felt proud of myself tonight. And I refuse to let Sin’s anger tarnish that emotion. No one gets to take that from me.

The frustration continues to bleed off Sin as he rakes his fingers through his hair, but the glow in his tattoos fades, if only a smidge. He’s still very clearly upset with me, so my jaw almost hits the floor when he reaches out to grab my waist, pulling me to him. I go stock still in response, just for a moment, waiting to see what he’ll do next, but he just… holds me. The feeling is completely foreign, and after another breath, I let myself melt into him.

My mind wants to spin circles around the fact that no one has ever held me, at least not outside of a bedroom… not like this. This is dangerously uncharted territory. But I shut it out, letting myself enjoy this, even for just a minute.

Of course, Sin then has to go and ruin the moment. “I don’t think you’re useless, kitten,” he notes, the deep timbre of his tone soothing me even further. “I think you’re slow.”

I move to pull out of his arms. However, the warlord wannabe doesn’t seem quite ready to let me go just yet, and my efforts are in vain.

I stomp on his foot.

That does the trick.

Sin laughs and releases me.

I frown at him, crossing my arms. “I’m still angry,” I grumble, surprising myself.

Admitting to feeling angry, rather than shoving the emotion away where it can’t hurt me, is so far out of character for me that I nearly cover my mouth once the words are out. And there was no excuse for it at this moment. I’m not trying to deflect Sin’s anger or fighting for my friends.

I just willingly started a conflict.

But rather than responding with anger of his own, Sin just grins at me, and it is pure wickedness. “Good. I like your anger. Throw it all at me. I’ll take it. However, the others are likely waiting to be briefed on what happened tonight. Did you want to fight first? Or hold off until after?”

Embarrassment quickly takes hold when I realize we’ve kept the others waiting. “No, of course, they should be briefed first.”

Humming at my answer, Sin takes my hand. “And kitten, the next time you put yourself in danger like that, I will not hesitate to manipulate your mind and make you read every dog-eared page from the book I borrowed. Out loud. At dinner.”

Chapter 31

Rule thirty-one: If the fairy says you’re partying, you party.

I’m pretty convinced that we blew it at the party. Especially given the whole ‘Sin used his Destroyer powers in front of all our potential allies’ thing after Sin and Morgana explicitly stated that doing so would make us enemies across all the realms. And, of course, I also went and pulled a knife on a party guest for flirting with Sin.

I need to work on myself.

The others have been gone for well over an hour. They have their hands full, making sure all the party guests return to their realms, ensuring all Shadow Realm citizens get home, and re-adjusting the wards to stop emissaries from returning here.

I’ve been playing chess with Damien while we wait for them. He’s just as agitated as I am. He couldn’t attend the party without revealing that he’s a spy, and now, adding insult to injury, he’s on babysitting duty, keeping an eye on me.

Usually, I would be thrilled to hang out with him, but neither of us has had a chance to discuss what happened yesterday with Sin at the table. The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Check,” I call, moving my Queen into position.

Damien groans, “I hate this game.”

I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “If you get to exercise my body, then I get to exercise your mind. It’s only fair.”

Damien rolls his eyes. “Not that I get to train you anymore. So, I’m failing to see the fairness.”

I don’t miss the slight hint of bitterness in his tone.

Sighing, I answer, “You’re going back to the Otherworld tomorrow. You won’t be here to train me anyway. But don’t worry. I promise to keep running.”

Damien is leaving early on Morgana’s orders to give us an extra set of ears in the Otherworld.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Damien notes as he moves his king to a more sheltered spot.

“It makes sense for Sin to train me. He’s my partner now, so we need to learn to work together. Besides, that doesn’t mean we don’t get to train when you get back,” I add as I move another piece on the board.

“Do you really think Sin will let me anywhere near you? Have you not noticed we haven’t been running together?” Damien counters.

He doesn’t look angry, just… hurt.

“What do you mean? I thought you were giving me a break because I hurt my leg,” I answer, frowning now.

“This is what Magnus and I were trying to get at last night, red. Because I don’t think you have a clue what Sin did, the moment he decided you belonged to him,” Damien barks, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

The murderous stare he leveled at Sin last night is back, erasing any hint of the easygoing guy I’ve been getting to know.

“What are you talking about?” I ask cautiously.

I know Sin claimed me because he’s sexually attracted to me and didn’t want the others to touch me. But Damien is making it sound like I’ve missed something critical.

“Powerful magic isn’t just snapping your fingers and getting what you want. It changes you, regardless of whether you want it to. The more power someone holds, the more they feel the drive to covet and protect what belongs to them. Think about it. You have magic of your own, and you’ve recently started manifesting more of it. Have you noticed a shift in what you’re willing to do to protect what you deem as yours?” Damien asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees so our gazes are level.

My first instinct is to argue. To laugh and pretend Damien is joking around. But he’s staring at me like he expects an answer, the game completely forgotten.

There’s no way.

Is there?

I’ve never been particularly possessive or protective. It goes against my urge to avoid conflict. But then again, lately, I haven’t been avoiding conflict. I fought Leon when he wanted to risk my friends and my realm. I had no control over whatever power is inside of me when I blasted him across the room. And since arriving in the Shadow Realm, it’s taken no time for me to feel fiercely protective of the people here. I would have murdered Artorix tonight to save Rosie. And I didn’t hesitate to threaten Gabrielle when she almost touched Sin. If Damien is correct, then I’m not taking on Cassandra’s personality traits. This is all me.

I swallow, and Damien gives me a slow nod, seeing the realization on my face. “Sin and I have known each other for ages. He’s a great leader, but he’s also a Destroyer. They hold more power than any other creature in our universe. Whatever possessive urges you’re feeling now, multiply them infinitely to get an idea of what it means to be claimed by him.”

The words have my heart dropping. “That’s not – no. It’s not like that. We’re just…” I start, but Damien continues.

“Sin has never once claimed someone as his own. Ever. Until you. Claiming is something that is done between mates. Do me a favor and ask Rosie what that is.”

The word ‘mate’ gives me pause. Sin called me his mate tonight, but I just figured it was another word for girlfriend.

“But Rosie and Irena are mated, so what’s the problem?” I ask, a bit irritated at how cryptic he’s being.

“Two things. First, if Sin has claimed you, and you’re not totally on board, there’s nothing any of us can do to help you. Whatever freedom you’ve found here, away from Leon – it’s gone. You are tethered to him for life because he will never let you go. Second, even if you are on board with that level of commitment, consider the fact that we are about to start a war that hinges on his ability not to lose control and destroy realms. If anything happens to you, he will not hesitate to level the entire fucking universe to get you back,” Damien finishes, sitting back and rubbing his eyes.

I’m at a loss for words. Damien has it all wrong. Sin’s little stunt with marking my neck wasn’t some kind of possessive Destroyer eternally binding claim. He just wants my body. And I get it. My protective instincts fired up when Gabrielle tried to touch Sin. Just like Sin’s instincts were triggered when he saw Damien and Magnus touching me. We’re partners, and we are sexually attracted to each other. That’s all it is.

At the skepticism on my face, Damien shrugs. “Fine, don’t believe me. But talk to Rosie before you convince yourself I’m wrong.”

I open my mouth to promise I will when voices stream in from the corridor.

The others are back.

Morgana, Sin, Rosie, Magnus and Arianna all file into the room. We’re still dressed to the nines, though Morgana looks uncharacteristically – happy?

But before I get a chance to unpack that sight, Arianna flings herself at me, crushing me against the couch with her tiny – but very sharp-edged body. “I’m so happy you’re okay. You scared the shit out of me, Viv. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Sin hums in agreement, but I refuse to look at him. Instead, I turn to Rosie. “Rosie, I’m glad you’re okay. And Ari, you’re about to choke me to death.”

Arianna releases me, a sheepish grin on her face, before scooting over to the other side of the couch. She’s effectively blocked off any chance of Sin sitting beside me, and I’m grateful. After what Damien told me, I’m not ready to have Sin close to me just yet.

Of course, that’s when I feel a presence at my back, and without turning, I already know Sin is leaning against the back of the couch. Even if I didn’t know his scent, it’s almost like my body wants to lean back to be closer to him.

I sit up straighter.

Morgana doesn’t bother sitting but instead stands in front of her desk so she can see us all. “The party was a complete success. Anyone who may have doubted your relationship with Sin left completely convinced that you are both in love,” she notes, grinning.

Magnus winks at me. “Good job playing the damsel in distress, little enigma.”

I gasp. “I did not!”

Rosie elbows Magnus in the ribs, looking no worse for wear. “She was an absolute badass and saved me. That’s twice now. Thank you, Viv,” she says, hugging me before taking a seat next to Damien.

“Everyone did well tonight. We’ll be hearing from our allies over the next few days. In the meantime, get some rest. We will have a busy week ahead, preparing for war,” Morgana orders before turning and leaving the room.

Her parting words instantly deflate the good mood, and everyone looks a little more sombre after she’s left.

Rosie is having none of it. “Unacceptable. I planned a huge party, and we were going to stay up all night.”

She stands, turning to the men with her hands on her hips. Her wings flit, and she floats a few inches off the ground. “Gentlemen, it’s been great. But we need a girl’s night.”

Damien looks like he’s about to argue when she chirps, “Goodnight then!” and grabs Arianna and me, apparating us out of the room.

We land in my room in a fit of giggles. Arianna is already pulling her hair out of her updo, and Rosie has removed her glamor. “Ladies, I’m going to get that expensive wine you worked so hard to fetch today and as many cupcakes as possible. I’m over all the doom and gloom. We need to unwind.”

With that, she disappears from the room. After the way tonight went and what I just learned from Damien, a night of drinking away my problems with some girlfriends sounds like just what the doctor ordered.

I grin at Arianna, only to find her digging through my drawers.

“What are you doing?” I ask, walking over to her.

“What kind of comfy clothes does the mortal world have? I only have nightgowns,” Arianna notes, rooting through my tops.

I laugh, pushing her hands away, before closing the drawer and opening the one with my pyjamas. I grab my comfy kitten shorts and then gesture to her to take her pick. “Raid away, Ari.”

The comfy kitten shorts are off-limits. Not because I associate them with Sin. That would be ridiculous. I just happen to like them a lot.

Arianna squeals and starts pulling out different sets of pyjamas until she settles on black silky pants and a matching tank top. I grab a pink tank for myself and head over to the bathroom to change.

Hours later, my head is spinning, and I’ve eaten at least seven cupcakes. We’ve migrated from my room to the stone balcony that looks out over the courtyard, and we’ve made a huge nest of pillows and blankets. Rosie thought to apparate over some enchanted floating flower lights, to give a warm ambience. Arianna is in a fit of giggles, and Rosie is fiddling with the tiny boombox she must have smuggled over from the mortal realm at some point.

“You’re telling me that this is music?” Arianna asks again, tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

I nod solemnly, swearing on my life that, at one point, everyone was listening to this song.

Rosie adjusts the volume and jumps back onto our pillow nest. “Is it a common issue? Dogs being let out, and wondering who stole them?”

I giggle. “It really isn’t. The song just happened to talk about it a lot.”

Shadow Realm wine is fantastic. The world around me is swirling, like I’m on a slow carousel.

Arianna snorts, and I lay back, staring at the stars.

Rosie chirps, “Vivian, catch!” She throws a piece of chocolate my way, and I open my mouth to catch it, only for it to hit me in the chin and bounce into my shirt.

That starts a fresh spurt of giggles in Arianna, and I’m quick to join in once I realize I can’t find the chocolate.

Oh well, it lives there now.

Rosie looks at me thoughtfully. “Do you miss it? Your realm?”

I sigh, “I miss my friends. I made some good ones in college. They must be really worried about me.”

I turn to Arianna. “What about you? Did you miss the Mortal Realm?”

Arianna scrunches her nose. “Not really. Everyone I knew is dead. Besides, the other realms turned me into ten times the spy the Guardians ever could have produced.” She winks at me. “Don’t worry, Viv, I can teach you my tricks.”

I can hear the competitive teasing in her tone, and I sit up, ignoring how the stone wall is spinning behind her. “Pfft. I don’t care how much of an old hag you became while I was gone. You’re still not as good as me.”

Arianna gasps, throwing a pillow my way. I try to dodge it, but Arianna is just as drunk as I am, and it comes nowhere near me. “Spoken like a true petulant child. Too bad, Vivian. The student has surpassed the teacher.” She drives the point home by blowing a raspberry at me.

I open my mouth to sass her back, but Rosie stops our competitive bickering. “There’s only one way to settle this,” she calls authoritatively, standing between us.

Arianna and I look up at her, and I think we’re all swaying.

“The Olympics,” Rosie says, solemnly nodding.

I frown up at her. “They’re not for a few years.”

Rosie’s brow furrows. “No, silly. We’re going to do the Super Spy Olympics. Right here. Right now.”

Arianna’s competitive streak is immediately triggered. “I’m in.”

I sit up, grinning. “I’m in, too. Ari – you’re going down!” I egg her on for added effect.

Arianna huffs, but Rosie shushes us. “You’re both going down if you don’t listen to the rules.”

We focus as hard as we can on her instructions. I can’t tell if Rosie is slurring or my ears aren’t working properly.

Maybe both?

“You’ll have three – er, actually,” she pauses to focus on the two of us. “Make that one challenge. I don’t think we’re going to stay awake for three.”

It feels like gravity is getting stronger by the minute, pulling me down to the stone floor. Rosie’s probably right on that one.

“What are we doing, oh wise one?” I ask her, trying not to giggle.

Arianna bursts out laughing, and that sets me off. Rosie is bent over, holding on to the wall, trying to stay upright.

“Shhhusshhhh, both of you!” she croaks through her own cackling. “If you don’t let me explain the rules before someone passes out, then I’m the best spy of them all.”

Arianna and I both look away from each other. I know if I make eye contact, I will lose it.

“Your mission is simple. It’s a scavenger hunt. Each of you has to bring me back an item. Arianna, I want Morgana’s dagger,” Rosie instructs.

Arianna blanches. “She keeps it in her room with her.”

Rosie nods slowly at her. “You’re a super spy, aren’t you? Prove it.”

Arianna swallows but nods.

I stick my tongue out at her and whisper, “Hah, sucker.”

Rosie turns to me, stifling a giggle. “Viv, you have to bring back Sin’s necklace.”

Chapter 32

Rule thirty-two: Do not mix alcohol and super spy missions.

My jaw drops, and Arianna cackles, rolling on the floor. “Admit you’re beaten, Vivian.”

I narrow my eyes at her, or maybe I just squint a bit. I can’t tell. “You wish.”

I’ve already snuck out of the castle without getting caught. I’ve totally got this.

Rosie lifts her hands and calls out, “Go!”

Arianna and I scramble up, detangling ourselves from the blankets, and stagger towards the doors. Arianna holds onto the wall for support, and I hold onto her.

Once we reach the doors, we turn in opposite directions. “I’ll see you when you come back to Rosie,” I call out, using the wall to make my way to the stairs.

Arianna snorts, “Dream on!”

Once I round the corner, I pause, holding on to a sconce, trying to remember how to climb stairs. Standing up seems so dangerous. Stairs are steep.

I shake my head at how careless I’ve been, walking upstairs while standing up all these years. Instead, I do the sensible thing and crawl on all fours.

Brilliant.

I make my way to the hallway, where Sin and I’s rooms are, before pulling myself back up to stand.

Okay, Vivian, it’s time to go super spy mode.

I try to pull up some of Cassandra’s memories of being sneaky, but nothing happens.

Huh. Her memories must be drunk. I sigh. That is so irresponsible of her.

It looks like I’m on my own.

I pause in front of Sin’s door, listening for any sound. Hearing nothing, I test the doorknob.

Unlocked.

I turn the knob slowly, opening the door mostly silently. Sin’s room is shrouded in darkness, but I don’t want to risk him opening his eyes and seeing the open door. That’s not what a super spy would do.

Spies are sneaky.

Padding inside as quietly as possible, I close the door behind me. Sin’s dresser is the most obvious place to look, but after a few hushed breaths, I come up empty. The bed is only a few feet away, and I eye the large figure sprawled over the blankets. Sin is fast asleep, his breathing even.

My heart rate elevates as I step closer, making it all the way to the edge of his bed. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him. He hasn’t bothered with pyjamas and only wears a pair of boxer briefs.

Dark romance novels must be rubbing off on me because I spend way longer than I should, taking in every line of his body. Everything about this man screams power, and I am drawn to him like a moth to his flame.

This is so wrong. I’m crossing a line.

But then I spot it. The leather tie of his necklace. It’s still around his neck.

Well, shit.

I was really hoping he took it off before he went to bed.

Biting my lip, I consider how to do this. Sin’s breathing hasn’t shifted, and I’m guessing he must be a really deep sleeper.

I shrug.

I need that necklace.

Reaching down, my fingers graze Sin’s neck as I try to lift it off him.

A hand catches mine, and I shriek as Sin’s eyes open, and he tugs me into his bed. Before I can blink, I’m flipped onto my back, with Sin straddling me. I struggle for a moment, but my hands are caught in his, held over my head. My head swims at the rapid movement, and I giggle, “You scared me!”

“What are you doing here, kitten?” Sin asks, frowning. I don’t miss the warning in his tone.

His voice is gravelly like he just woke up. It’s doing things to me. His hair is mussed up, a strand catching one of his long eyelashes. I want to move it for him, but he holds me firm.

I frown back at him. “I’m trying to win the Olympics. I needed to be sneaky, but you caught me.”

Sin eyes me warily, and I suddenly realize how much of his bare body is touching mine, given my pyjamas don’t cover a whole lot either. The sight of him pressing me down onto his bed has me heating, and I forget to worry about winning the challenge.

Sin must notice where my thoughts are headed because he sighs, letting me go to lay beside me. “How much have you had to drink?”

I turn to face him, grinning. “We drank the wine cellar.”

His hand moves to rub his temple like he has a headache coming on before he mutters, “Of course you did.”

He looks tired. Guilt hits at waking him up after such a long day, and I shift to climb out of his bed. “Well, it’s time to face the music and tell them I lost. Sorry for waking you, nighty night.”

I don’t make it a foot before Sin’s arm darts out and grabs me around my middle, slamming me back down on the bed, flush against him. I blink, confused as to how I got there so quickly.

Sin’s voice is low as he whispers against my ear, “Do you remember what I told you about coming inside my room, kitten?”

My brow furrows, my head still swimming.

“I told you that the next time you came in here, I wouldn’t let you leave until I was finished with you.”

His voice goes right to my core, and I clench my thighs together.

Sin growls, feeling my movement, “Kitten?”

“Hmm?” I ask, my voice higher than I want it to be. This man is dangerous for my panties. If I blink, he’ll have them.

He shifts, turning me to face him. I try to focus on his face, to read whether he’s angry. But my vision isn’t focusing fast enough.

“I’m not finished with you,” he answers.

His face finally comes into focus, and I stare at him wide-eyed. Sin is pretty in a rugged, deadly kind of way. His beard is close to my face, and I reach out, running my fingers through it, curious about how it feels. The hairs tickle my fingers, but Sin grabs my hand, placing it against his chest.

I recognize the sexual nature of Sin’s promise of not letting me leave his room, and my blood warms. Considering how much I’ve had to drink, I’m impressed I’ve even realized it at all. I frown at him again. “You know, we’re doing things backwards.”

Sin quirks a brow at me.

I try to prop myself up on an elbow so I can look down at him. The movement causes the room to spin, and I sway, falling back onto the pillow.

Sin tucks me more tightly against him, so I can’t move. “What are we doing backwards, kitten?”

Heat coils in my core at the nickname. I shouldn’t like it this much. I don’t think Sin has ever called me by my actual name. I’m not sure what he has against the name ‘Vivian,’ but it’s always ‘mortal’ or ‘kitten’ with him. “Why do you call me that?” I ask, ignoring his question.

Sin pauses before answering, “Because you reminded me of a kitten when I brought you here. You curled into my arms like you belonged there.”

My heart skips a beat.

He nudges me. “You were going to tell me what we’re doing backwards.”

I huff, trying not to love being enveloped by the scent of woodsmoke. It’s so cozy being held like this. Sin gives off a lot of heat, and I wrap my legs around him to steal more of it. He stiffens but doesn’t stop me.

“You’re going backwards,” I answer, feeling very much like the authority on the subject.

“Care to elaborate?” Sin rubs his beard on top of my head, and I nuzzle into him.

I sigh at his lack of understanding.

“You. You’re backwards. You keep touching me and teasing me. You admitted that you want me when we don’t like each other. We haven’t even kissed. It’s all backwards. And now I’m in your bed, and god only knows where that will go,” I huff.

Sin chuckles, “I’m not going to touch you.”

I manage to squirm out of his hold enough to look up at him, disgruntled. “Then why are you keeping me? What do you want from me?”

Sin’s answering smile is wicked, and it sends my heart into a wild beat. “So much. But we’re going to start with one thing since you’re in such an agreeable mood.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

Sin’s arm tightens around me. “Names, kitten. I want the names of those who hurt you back in your realm.”

My head swims, and danger bells start going off in my head. Sin’s tone is mild, but I know there’s a reason I didn’t want to give him names. Why don’t I want to tell him about Em?

A sharp intake of breath, and I remember. “You can’t kill them, Sin.”

“Why in the Fates not? They tried to kill you.” Sin looks annoyed, but he also seems genuinely curious.

I smile at his reasoning. It’s kind of sweet in a morbid way. Giggling, I tease him, “Okay, I take it back, you like me.”

Sin rolls his eyes and lightly pinches my waist. I squeak, and he prods again, “I want an answer. Why can’t I kill them?”

I sigh. He isn’t going to drop it. He’s been tenacious in trying to get the answer from me. But then, I think I wanted answers about things, too.

I chew at my bottom lip, trying to remember what it was I needed to know.

Right, mates. Damien is freaking out. Sin can set him straight.

Giving Sin my own wicked grin, or at least I think that’s what that was, I shift so our eyes are level. “I’ll give you the names on two conditions,” I note, feeling ridiculously impressed with myself for stringing together such cohesive sentences.

Sin arches a brow, and I continue, “You can’t kill them. I love Em’s parents. They were really kind to me, and they already lost their son. I can’t be the reason they lose their daughter, too. So please, no killing. Promise?”

Sin sighs and agrees, “Fine.” But his small smile is entirely at odds with the subject matter. My brows furrow, confused, when he prods me, “What’s your other condition?”

“I want to know about the mate bond.”

At my demand, Sin’s hands tighten around me, and I’m back to nuzzling at his neck. His grip doesn’t loosen when he asks, “Who told you about mate bonds?”

I giggle. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I take another breath, and Sin doesn’t answer me, so I pinch his arm. “Tell me,” I demand, fighting to keep my eyes open when I’m being lulled by his delicious warmth.

He sighs again, and I rest my hand on his chest, fully committing to the cuddling. “Mate bonds are something more frequently found in other realms. They’re only found in creatures that hold magic. Some, like shifters and Fae, can usually pick up quite quickly if someone is their mate. It’s like a rubber band snapping into place, and they know they’ve found their other half. The person who compliments their soul. The mate bond tethers their souls so they can be together eternally. Amongst other perks.”

I frown, thinking of the corrupted Keeper bond I have with Leon. The idea that there are pre-determined mates for people gives me the creeps.

But Sin continues, “From what I’ve heard, it’s different with Destroyers. Once we find someone we want to be mated to, we get the undeniable urge to claim them. We crave them, and it’s impossible to stop. From there, we build the mate bond using our own magic.”

I stiffen at his answer, and he pauses, but I want the whole of it. “How do Destroyers build the mate bond, Sin?”

He inhales deeply before answering, “We claim our mate, and they accept it by giving themself over to us completely.”

His answer instantly sobers me.

Leon insisted I tell him I belonged to him. Repeatedly, he tried to pull the words from me. I thought it was the possessiveness, but oh god. He was trying to bind us together as mates.

The realization sends a chill down my back, and I want to cuddle in closer to Sin, to pretend for a while that I’m safe. Until I remember what Sin said to me before the party. That he is fighting to make me scream that I’m his.

I blanch. “You’re not…” I start, trying to figure out how to confirm he isn’t trying to tie our souls eternally without my consent. I might need to borrow one of Sin’s knives and stab him if that’s the case. No wonder Damien is so pissed.

Sin growls against my head, “Don’t even imply that I’d coerce you. The bond must be made willingly on both ends. You’re not mine unless you want to be.”

His answer tones down some of my anger, but I’m still frustrated. Something nags at the back of my head like I forgot to turn something off at home. I try to focus on it, and suddenly, I look back up at Sin, bumping his chin with my head. “I’m going to lose the Olympics. Are you finished with me?”

Sin lets out a low rumble and gently tucks my head back against him. “No.”

I huff, “Why not?”

“Because you’ll just find more trouble,” he answers firmly. “Now go to sleep.”

I frown at his tone. “I’m still not yours,” I mutter. “You don’t get to own me.”

Sin starts tracing small circles on my back. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Nodding against his chest, my eyes finally start to droop as exhaustion pulls me under.

I almost miss Sin’s whispered confession as the darkness overtakes me.

“You’re not mine, kitten. But I think I’m quickly becoming yours.”

Part 3 – Threads of Light

“The prince of darkness is a gentleman.”

- William Shakespeare, King Lear

Chapter 33

Rule thirty-three: Do not, under any circumstance, talk about your feelings.

This might be the worst hangover I’ve ever experienced. My head throbs as I try to pry my eyes open. The room around me is slow to come into focus, the light worsening my headache.

I’m never drinking again.

It takes another few minutes of hangover misery to realize I’m not in my own bed. I freeze, confused, until I notice I’m surrounded by the comforting woodsmoke scent I’ve become so attuned to.

Oh fuck.

This is Sin’s room.

Scrambling up, I ignore how the movement makes me queasy. I’m still in my jammies, which is probably a good sign. The room is empty, and there’s a glass of water on the small table beside the bed.

Okay, Sin isn’t here. A part of me relaxes with that realization, and I drink the water without hesitation. The night’s events play through my mind until finally, I remember trying to sneak into Sin’s room.

My cheeks flush, realizing how stupid I was to come in here.

Luckily for me, this is the shortest walk of shame in the history of time. It takes me all of five seconds to dart out of Sin’s room and take shelter in my own. After a long, hot shower, I finally feel at least ten percent human, and head out in search of the others.

While I can certainly see the perks of hiding away in my room until I’m ready to deal with yesterday, I’d rather have a cup of coffee while I overthink things. Besides, I might be the one who snuck into Sin’s room, but he’s the one who kept me there. So, he can be the one who feels embarrassed today.

Personally, my mental and emotional processing plates are full. As my partner, it seems only fitting that he shares the load.

To my surprise, the dining room is empty, except for a basket of muffins and a pitcher of coffee.

Well, that’s a first.

After making myself a cup of coffee and stealing a blueberry muffin, I go in search of the others. The sound of cussing doesn’t leave me looking for long, and I find them close by in the sitting room. There’s no sign of Sin, but Morgana is sitting at her desk, reading a journal, Damien and Rosie are arm wrestling, and Magnus is patching up a wound on Arianna’s shoulder.

I nearly choke on my muffin when I realize it’s a stab wound. “Ari, what the hell happened to you?” I ask, taking a seat across from them.

Arianna gives me a sheepish grin. “Morgana’s dagger found me before I could steal it.”

I frown, confused.

Morgana glances over at us, looking annoyed as she clarifies, “Sneak into my room again, and I’ll take something more permanent, like a finger or two.”

I gape at her. “You stabbed her?”

Morgana shrugs. “Stay out of my room.”

Arianna doesn’t look remotely upset. “Don’t worry, I heal fast.”

Magnus tuts, “Not if you don’t stop moving, pest.”

Arianna grins. “But Magnus, it tickles when you use the needle.”

I shake my head at her. Arianna’s sense of humor is morbid. I both love it and am terrified for her. Mostly love, though.

It’s important to support friends like that.

“So, we both lost then?” I ask, feeling a bit better about the fact.

Rosie looks up from where she is surprisingly holding her own against Damien and gives me a knowing look. “Oh, for sure. But I wonder where you ended up sleeping last night. Seeing as you didn’t make it back to us.”

My cheeks heat. “I just passed out. That’s all.”

Arianna cackles, causing Magnus to miss where his needle was piercing. She hisses, darkness leaking from her hands, “Do that again, Magnus.”

Magnus grits his teeth. “I helped raise you from practically a child. Don’t be vulgar.”

Arianna blows him a kiss. “I know, it’s hilarious to watch you get grossed out.”

The annoyed expression on Magnus’ face is something I will cherish forever. The shifter is almost always a picture of cool, calm confidence, and I had no idea Arianna had such a gift for breaking through it.

Truly, the girl is going places.

Hopefully, not back to a prison, but other places, in general.

Their antics are interrupted when Sin apparates in the doorway. He glances my way, giving me a once over as if to assure himself I’m okay, before heading over to Morgana, ignoring the rest of us. At this point, I’ve become used to his silent streaks. Sin chooses the weirdest moments to get chatty.

However, it’s clear that Arianna is having none of Sin’s brooding, and she calls out to him, interrupting the start of his whispered conversation with Morgana, “Good morning, sunshine!”

Sin quirks a brow at her, nodding in response.

Arianna is a shit-disturber. “Where did you go off to this morning after leaving Vivian in your room, I wonder.”

I start choking on my coffee. This is becoming a bad habit of mine.

Sin crosses his arms, leaning against the table. “I had business to attend to in the Mortal Realm.”

That gets my full attention, and I turn to him. “What were you doing in my realm?”

The timing is far too close to his asking about who gave me my scars. And no matter how hard I try to remember, I can’t remember if I told him who was responsible.

Sin shrugs, indifferent. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

I want to argue, but Morgana addresses the room again, “Now that you’re all here, we need to discuss our next moves. Like I said last night, war is coming, and we must be prepared.”

My pulse picks up at her words. I still think war is terrifying, but I refuse to let the Council continue to manipulate and hurt people. I want to help.

Morgana continues, and the rest of us stay deathly quiet. When our leader speaks, we listen. I briefly wonder if the others are as intimidated by her as I am. “Our allies will decide whether to join us in the coming days. Once their answers start to arrive, we’ll have a good idea of where we stand, army-wise. In the meanwhile, we can’t stay idle,” she says before turning to Damien. “After the attempt on Vivian’s life last night, it’s unclear as to whether any of our allies have notified the Council of our plans. The last we heard, they want Vivian alive, so this may have been an outside job. Find out what they know.”

“I’m not scheduled to get back into rotation for a while yet, but I’ll frequent the barracks and taverns to see what kind of rumors have been going around,” he answers, and once again, I’m struck by the loss of his goofy, easygoing personality. This Damien looks… hardened.

Morgana looks to Rosie next. “Rosie, I need you to listen to the Council through their plants again, as much as possible. I know time in the Otherworld is dangerous for you, so I’m sending you with Arianna. Keep each other safe.”

Rosie and Arianna both nod solemnly, all trace of humor gone.

Morgana turns to Magnus, but he stands before she has a chance to address him. “I know, I know, boss, back to the black market. I’ll be taking some potions from the warehouse. I’ll need the goods to bring in more loose-lipped customers.”

He leaves the room, and Morgana turns to me. “I will be visiting our allies, pushing them for an answer. Vivian, we need to know more about your other powers. The energy storm you caused when you arrived here – if you can learn to control it, will make you a valuable asset in the war. Sin will adjust your training so you can focus on energy-wielding. If anything, we’ll hopefully be able to figure out what you are.”

Sin nods in agreement, and I do the same, trying to avoid the pit of anxiety in my stomach at the thought of using that energy.

Everyone but Sin leaves the room, looking determined. No one says goodbye, and my stomach twists further. But rather than letting myself worry about the what-ifs, I push that thought down and focus on the very real problem staring at me from across the room. Sin and I are about to be alone together, at least for the next few days. The thought has me gulping, and I consciously remind my body that any more intimacy with Sin is a very bad idea.

But from the way he’s watching me, I think Sin has also just realized we’re about to be alone. His eyes darken as he stalks over from Morgana’s desk. No matter how hard I mentally kick myself, I can’t look away.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. His voice is gruff, but there’s a gentle edge there that I’m not accustomed to from him.

“I’m fine,” I lie. Because a lie is easier than blurting out the truth. Sin’s admission that he wants me to scream I’m his has only made me more confused. Does he just want sex? Or does he want more? Not to mention, I’m still worried about what he did in my realm this morning, I’m freaked out about using a power that doesn’t look particularly safe, and, finally, I’m out of coffee.

None of those things are fine.

Sin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t call me on my fib as he sits across from me. “About yesterday…” he starts.

I’m quick to cut him off, already blushing down to my toes, “It’s fine, really. We don’t have to talk about it. I know this is just physical and that you bit my neck to warn away Magnus and Damien.”

The words taste sour, but I’m proud I managed to get them out. Sure, I’ve never had to go through the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ chat before, but I think I’ve watched enough Netflix to know where this is going.

At my answer, Sin sighs, standing.

My pulse picks up.

Is he going to ditch training today? Should I have stressed that we can still be friends? Oh crap, I’ve blown it. I totally forgot to say that.

But my anxiety spiral is cut short when Sin picks me up off the couch before sitting back down and settling me on his lap. Yelping, I start trying to climb off him, but he holds me still before growling out, “Keep rubbing your ass against my cock, and things are going to get very physical, very fast.” His words come out strained, and I go still immediately.

Sin tucks me against him, and I relent, melting against him, but not without grumbling, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I need to not be having this conversation. Not when we’re about to be alone together. I can’t see a path forward that doesn’t end badly for me. Either he admits it’s just physical, I get attached and then hurt, or he explains he wants more, only to realize I’m not worth it.

That’s a strong ‘no thank you’ from me. My heart hurts less if I don’t know.

Sin’s sigh is blistering, but he grumbles back, “Fine. For now,” before releasing me.

I pull away, and Sin eyes me like he’s trying to peer inside my soul again. His gaze has me standing and retreating towards the door.

What happened to the man who kidnapped me and was afraid of emotions? Those are quickly looking like the good ‘ol days.

“Thank you. I think it’s good that we focus on what’s most important right now to avoid getting distracted.” The words come out strained, but I force them out anyway.

“Important?” Sin echoes, his eye twitching. His face hardens to a look so determined I almost shudder. But he doesn’t push the issue. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes in the courtyard. Get dressed to fight.”

I nod and leave the room without throwing him any sass. It feels weird, and I already hate the new dynamic. Still, war is coming. That’s a lot more important than my attraction to Sin. Because that’s all this is. Attraction.

I refuse to let it be more.

Chapter 34

Rule thirty-four: Fight dirty.

“Magic is tied to emotion,” Sin lectures, circling me in the arena. His hands are clasped behind his back, but I don’t let my guard down. Not in here. “You said you manifested your magic when you were very, very, angry. So, we’re going to need you to get angry until you can familiarize yourself with calling it forward.”

Sin has been instructing (lecturing) me on the particulars of wielding strong powers for the last ten minutes. He’s not even remotely concerned that I might hurt him, given he can nullify whatever I end up manifesting. It’s doing nothing good for my bad bitch image. Although I have the sneaking suspicion that the possibility of me blowing up the realm may have something to do with why we’ve been left alone at the castle.

The second the others left, it was like an electric current settled in the air. Things have shifted since Sin admitted that he was done trying to fight whatever is between us. I can feel his eyes on me, even when he’s at my back. I can’t tell whether it’s from anticipation or anxiety. The tension is there, setting my nerve endings alight.

Desire and fear. My body has never been more conflicted.

Not that Sin has said anything remotely inappropriate since I told him we should keep things professional. But there’s a hunger in the way he looks at me now, one that he isn’t bothering to mask. It sets my blood on fire, reminding me, yet again, that I am beyond screwed.

Focus, Vivian.

“And how am I supposed to just get furious?” I ask, arching a brow at him. Despite the small outbursts I’ve been having in this realm, I’m really not an angry person.

He stops circling, finally facing me. My breath catches in my throat, and I try not to appreciate how deadly he looks when fully decked out in his fighting leathers. I’m just going to go ahead and blame my book addiction for my attraction to men who look like they could kill me in less than a heartbeat.

I have no regrets.

“Promise that you’ll forgive me.”

He isn’t asking, he’s demanding. And he’s doing it with enough ferocity that I just know he’s about to cross a line. Still, I recognize his words for what they are, apprehension.

Sin is hesitating.

My heart starts thundering in my chest as I realize why. He’s going to make sure I can get angry. He’s going to go inside my head.

A cold chill runs up my spine at the thought of someone manipulating my emotions again. Sin watches me apprehensively, not moving toward me, and his hesitation is everything. Just like every time he’s touched me, Sin is waiting for me to tell him no, to give him an indication that I don’t want this.

I have a choice. He always gives me a choice in his own twisted way.

“I promise,” I quietly reply.

Sin’s eyes shut, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. When they open again, his tattoos start to glow a familiar red as he brings his Destroyer powers to the surface.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises back, reaching for me slowly, giving me all the time in the world to move away.

“I trust you.” I hold his gaze and don’t flinch when his hand cups my cheek.

“If you go back to hating me after this, I’m going to be very upset with you.” The growl in his tone causes heat to surge through me, and I fight the urge to press my thighs together.

If there was ever a time when I needed to focus on not having lust-filled thoughts, it’s probably now.

It takes a few moments until I feel it. If I wasn’t paying attention, I don’t think I would notice the feeling of Sin in my head. It’s as if something is sliding between my thoughts, squirming through emotions as he searches for the one he’s looking for. There’s no pain, but once I’ve zeroed in on the intrusion, it doesn’t particularly feel good either.

I offer him a small smile. “If you’re looking for anger in there, you’ll be looking for a while.”

Sin’s answering laugh is devoid of all amusement. “Kitten, please believe me when I tell you – you don’t just have anger. You’re drowning in it.”

My brow furrows. “That’s not –”

But my response is cut off by a bolt of white-hot fury as Sin finds whatever he is looking for. The anger is accompanied by a memory that is shoved to the forefront of my mind.

Leon is demanding I release him and telling me my realm is insignificant. He’s trying to force me, to manipulate me. Only this time, there’s no fog clouding my mind. The rage that surges forward grows unchecked, like a flame lit too close to kerosine. I don’t stop after I blast him across the room. I want to make sure he can never hurt my realm. There’s not an ounce of hesitation when I grab my blade, intent on killing him where he lies. Never again…

But just as abruptly as the anger appeared, it’s doused back down, leaving me gasping for breath.

“Fuck, you’re okay, kitten. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” Sin says, stepping away from me to give me more space. “I promise I only looked for your angriest memory. I didn’t touch anything else.” There’s a desperation to his tone as if he’s waiting for me to hate him. My heart melts a little, and I mentally kick myself hard.

“I’m okay. It’s okay,” I answer, clearing my throat as I rub my chest. “But I don’t think whatever you did worked.”

My comment pulls Sin out of whatever worry he’s feeling, and he tilts his head, eying me curiously. “I just made you relive your anger when you blasted Leon, and I upped it considerably.”

“And I didn’t manifest any of the magic.” I frown. “Well, shit. I really thought the power was triggered by anger. I was livid when it showed up.”

Sin crosses his arms, watching me. “Tell me again what you felt when you manifested the power.”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to remember the details as clearly as possible. “I was angry because Leon wanted to hurt my realm, and I needed to stop him.”

“So, you weren’t just angry, you needed something.”

“Well, yes, I suppose. I needed to find a way to be strong, to not give in,” I admit.

Sin rolls his shoulders and moves to the arena’s edge, pulling off his sword and daggers.

“Would you mind sharing with the class?” I ask.

Sin’s gaze rakes over me as he strides back. “We have a new emotion to explore. Desire.”

“Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.” I take a step back. “There is no way you are going to use the sexual attraction between us to manifest my power. Hard limit.”

I can’t think of anything worse for my paper-thin resolve to keep things professional with him.

He smirks. “Kitten, if you desire me, all you have to do is say so, and I will gladly abandon training to worship you.”

My knees go weak, but I stay silent, not trusting myself to say the logical thing.

“Hmm, I didn’t think you were quite there yet,” Sin notes, his tongue moving over his teeth. “But to make this work, you need to want something that isn’t easily attained.” He crosses his arms, looking like he has all the patience in the world.

“And what might that be?” I ask, curious.

“Information,” Sin answers, anticipation lacing his tone. “I have information you want. We’re going to train. If you pin me, you can ask a question, any question, and I’ll answer.”

My eyes narrow. “And if you pin me?”

His smirk is replaced by the relentless determination I saw in him earlier. “Fair is fair, kitten.”

Why do I already know this isn’t going to go well for me? Still, he’s offering something I want badly. I’m suspicious about what he was doing in my realm this morning, especially after what we talked about in his bed last night.

“Done,” I answer.

A second later, I learn something of critical importance.

Sin has been holding back.

He moves with nearly inhuman speed, and I barely have a chance to gasp before he has my back pressed into the sand. By the time I’ve registered what’s just happened, Sin’s hips are pressed against my thighs, and I’m locked beneath him.

This – this is going to be more difficult than I anticipated. Whether I’m talking about keeping things platonic between us or taking him down, I’m not sure.

Probably both.

“What’s your favorite book?” he asks, shocking me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I’m sure I just misunderstood.

“Your favorite book. Tell me,” he commands.

My mouth opens and then closes again. Why the hell would Sin care what books I like?

“I’m not moving until you answer,” he adds, amused.

Still confused, I answer, “The one you borrowed.”

The answering heat in his gaze goes straight to my lower belly, but he climbs off me without pressing further.

Over the next ten minutes, Sin pins me four more times, always asking seemingly mundane questions. Why did I choose to study history and English? Other than reading, what are my favorite hobbies? What’s my favorite color? Where is my favorite place to visit? Every time, he makes no further move towards me other than pinning me down.

Sweat already coats my body, and I’m getting more frustrated by the second. Sin pulls me from the sand yet again, and I glower at him. “How am I supposed to desire something when you keep tossing me into the sand and distracting me with your weird questions?”

He laughs at my outburst. “You don’t want answers badly enough if you keep losing. If you really want them, use your powers.”

My eyes flare, and Sin turns serious once again. “But if you don’t like my questions, I’m happy to adjust.”

The way he says it has me realizing I should have just kept my mouth shut. I put more distance between us, hoping it will give me more time to see him coming. It does exactly nothing in my favor when he apparates behind me, snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me down underneath him again.

“Still slow, kitten. We need to work on that,” he notes, smirking.

I huff, “Apparating was cheating.”

His eyes darken. “Our enemies have powers you can’t even imagine. If you can’t deal with simple magic, you’re dead.” He frowns before asking, “What are you afraid of?”

“Other than small spaces and –”

“That’s not what I’m referring to. You’ve been running since I told you I’m fighting for whatever is happening between us. I can see it, and I want to know why,” Sin says, the steely determination back in his tone.

There’s no escaping his penetrating stare when I’m pinned underneath him. Sin is trying to peer into my soul again, and I try to buck him off me. Anything to avoid this conversation.

As usual, it’s like trying to move a force of nature, and I don’t think he’s shifted even a millimeter. Sin arches a brow, still awaiting my answer.

When in doubt, deflect. Because I refuse to let Sin in any more than I already have. I’m already in too deep.

“You’re fighting to fuck me, Sin. Maybe I’m making you chase,” I bite back.

He lowers so he can whisper against my ear, “You and I both know you can’t lie worth shit.” His warm breath fans over my neck and goosebumps erupt down my flesh. Sin lifts his head, his gaze flicking between my eyes and mouth. “I can’t properly annihilate whatever is holding you back if you don’t tell me what it is.”

His words are like a caress against my skin, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of every breath he takes.

It’s just attraction. It’s just attraction. It’s just attraction.

I keep repeating the words in my head, but the mantra isn’t going to make Sin believe me any more than I believe myself. There’s something between us. But admitting that to Sin will only make things worse.

My gaze drifts to his mouth, and he zeroes in on the action. There’s a raw desire in his expression, and I shift underneath him, pulling his face to mine. Sin freezes but doesn’t stop me. I think he’s stopped breathing.

My fingers thread into his hair, and when our lips are millimeters apart, I let him feel the edge of my blade against his throat. Sin’s eyes flare, realizing what I’ve done.

“Sit up,” I command in a whisper.

Sin only looks more ravenous as he eases off me, and I move with him, straddling his hips so that my blade never leaves his throat. My core settles against him, and more heat unfurls inside of me when I feel his hard length pressing into me.

“Do you want me to put you on your back? Or is this enough to earn my question?” I challenge.

If Sin is using magic to pin me down, then I’m not hesitating to use anything at my disposal.

Sin doesn’t answer and instead grips my ass, grinding me against him. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to arch into him, and instead, I press my blade more firmly against his flesh. “I want my answer, Sin.”

His eyes are the color of violent storms as his gaze burns into mine. “Ask me a question, slit my throat. I don’t care, so long as you stay right the fuck where you are.” The words come out strangled as he lifts my hips to grind me against him again.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from whimpering at the feel of him thrusting against my clit. This backfired on me in the most delicious way possible. Sin starts kissing a path down my neck, and I shudder before tugging on his hair to pull him back.

“What were you doing in the Mortal Realm this morning?” My question comes out breathless.

“I was wondering when you’d get to that,” Sin smirks before leaning into my knife to nip at my collarbone. The blade bites into his skin, and I drop it immediately, but there’s already a small line of blood blossoming against his throat.

“Shit. Sin I –”

“You said you wanted to mark me, kitten. I’m facilitating.”

My eyes flare, far too aroused by the thought that he’s wearing my mark. But before I can mentally unpack that new kink, he flips us so he’s on top of me, pressing between my thighs.

The move took less than a breath and went directly to my core. My carefully color-coded list as to why I shouldn’t be intimate with Sin might as well be in the shredder.

“You were almost murdered. Your classmates fucking stoned you,” Sin growls as he expertly undoes the fastenings of my weapons sheaths. “They hurt you, and you never said a fucking word. You didn’t fight back.” He says the last part like an accusation.

“It wasn’t worth…” I start, but Sin cuts me off, his expression growing murderous as he strips off the last of my weapons, moving on to my leathers.

“You’re fucking worth it. I know you don’t believe it, and until you do, I will gladly slay every one of your enemies.” My armor falls to the ground, and Sin lifts my shirt, kissing a trail up my stomach.

My lower belly tightens, but I freeze at his words. “You – you killed them?”

Sin drops my shirt, and my question elicits another growl, “They deserved worse than death for hurting you. I would love nothing more than to wipe them from existence, but you asked me not to.”

My hand presses against his chest before he can continue to strip me. He could easily overpower me, but he stills.

“What did you do, Sin?” My heart clenches, and guilt starts to press in at the thought that I may have just gotten more people hurt.

Sin shifts, taking my hand and kissing my palm. “Emily woke up this morning and confessed to everything. She turned herself in, as did every other student that was there that day. Your mother is being investigated for child neglect. I didn’t hurt them, kitten. But I made sure they would face the consequences of their actions.”

I pull my hand back, trying to process too much at once. Em and the others are going to go to jail. They’ll be the ones to rot in a small room now. My mother will be unveiled for what she truly is to everyone around her. They’ll finally know what a monster she is.

All because of Sin.

“But why? Why would you do that for me?” My heart thunders in my chest.

His gaze darkens as he starts peeling off my pants. I lift my hips, helping him, beyond capable of fighting whatever has been building between us. I want him. Even though it’s not the smart thing to do, even though I have a multitude of reasons to stop this, if Sin doesn’t touch me soon, I’m going to combust.

His fingers twist in the fabric of my underwear, and with my next ragged breath, they’re gone. He lowers his head, pulling my thighs off the ground so he can watch me as his mouth ghosts across my clit. “You really need to ask that, kitten?”

My fingers dig into the sand, and I moan as arousal floods my body. “Please,” I gasp when he kisses my inner thigh.

“Because, even though you’re still running, I already know.” He pauses to kiss higher, drawing closer to where I need him.

I whimper, rapidly becoming annoyed that we’re still talking when there’s something I’d much rather he be doing with his mouth. “What do you know?” I snap out, trying to roll my hips up.

Sin smirks, but his grip doesn’t lessen. His eyes lock on mine, challenging and determined. “You’re mine, kitten.”

With those words, his mouth descends onto my pussy, his tongue stroking over my clit and robbing me of every logical thought. He devours me like a man starved, and a burning need courses through me as he hauls my hips up further so that my thighs rest on his shoulders.

“You taste so fucking good.” His tone is low, making the coil of pleasure in my core tighten even further.

“Please, Sin,” I beg, and he sucks on my sensitive bundle of nerves.

“What do you need?” he asks against my slit.

“You. Fuck me, please.” I beg, and Sin’s eyes flare wide, his grip on me tightening.

“Fuck, kitten,” he groans, and I arch up to feel more of him. He responds by burying his face into my pussy, his tongue sweeping inside of me. My orgasm doesn’t flow through me; it crashes into me, and I scream Sin’s name with every wave. Still, he doesn’t relent, sucking and licking me until I’m shivering beneath him. When he finally comes up for air, his pupils are blown, and he looks like his control is hanging on by a thread.

I’ve never wanted to snap a thread so badly in my life.

Untangling from Sin, I reach up to start stripping him. But he pins my hands over my head, stopping me. “Kitten,” he warns, and the hunger in his voice has me arching into him.

“I want you,” I demand.

Sin takes a shuddering breath but doesn’t release me. “I want you coming on my cock more than I want my next breath. But if I fuck you, there’s no coming back. You’ll belong to me in every fucking sense of the word. So, unless you’re sure that’s what you want, then we need to stop.”

Chapter 35

Rule thirty-five: Say no to therapy.

Being almost naked and pinned beneath a very attractive man who just noted that he will not be fucking me unless I want to be fully tied to him is totally okay. In fact, it really fits the train-wreck vibe that my emotional health has taken on lately.

At my hesitation, Sin releases me, his gaze dragging over my body once more, before he locks the desire back down and turns to find my clothes. My cheeks flush and I can’t stop the embarrassment that sets in, knowing he has every ability to make me lose control, but I clearly am lacking in that department.

“Kitten…” he starts.

“It’s okay. Really. I’m fine,” I answer, dressing as quickly as possible.

Logically, I know my frustration is immature. I should be happy that Sin was honest with me about where sex between us would lead. But the multitude of emotions I’m trying to process aren’t leaving me feeling too logical right about now.

This isn’t just sex. I’m not the only one who’s worried about getting attached.

At least now I know what Sin meant when he said he was fighting for whatever is between us.

He wants me, all of me.

What is the opposite of a silver lining? Because now, I’m not only anxious, but I’m also terrified. How quickly will he change his mind when he realizes I’m not worth keeping?

The thought has my chest constricting, and I shove it back down with my other repressed emotions.

“How often do you do that?” Sin asks, and my head snaps up, realizing he’s been watching me like a hawk.

“What?”

“Shut down your emotions. You were clearly very upset about something, and then it disappeared like it never existed at all,” Sin clarifies, his head slightly tilted as he takes me in.

My cheeks burn from embarrassment, and Sin only tilts his head, his expression calculating. I swallow, realizing that this admission may very well be what changes his mind about wanting me. After all, who could ever want a shell?

Because it’s not just the trauma I repress. For as long as I can remember, I’ve pushed down any emotion that could result in conflict. Every time I’ve needed to interact with people, it’s been done with carefully crafted words to ensure we would never fight. After all, it was drilled into me that I couldn’t win. That my feelings were irrational or irrelevant and that if I did enter into conflict, I’d come out hurt. And the worst part is, I recognize that it’s made me a shell of a person. No matter how often I’ve tried to convince myself that I’m just an introvert or shy, I know the truth.

I’m a coward.

I sigh, resigned. It’s better for him to hear it now rather than to let him keep thinking he wants me. “I – I do this thing a lot. When I have strong emotions… sadness, fear, and mostly anger, I tend to shove them into boxes within myself. I compartmentalize them so that I don’t have to feel them. I – I don’t do well with conflict. This is the best way to avoid it.”

Sin doesn’t look horrified or disgusted, only curious. “And that technique works for you?”

“It used to, until the last couple of weeks. It’s gotten more difficult to close the boxes and keep them shut. It’s almost like they’ve cracked, and I can’t hide the emotions away anymore.” I chew on my lip, considering how much more I want to share, until I realize where he’s going with this. “I – I think it happened every time I used my other energy. It’s not just that I was angry. I was feeling everything.”

Sin nods at my admission. “Well, I have some bad news.” He’s smirking like he’s about to annoy the hell out of me.

My heart thumps, and I try to ignore how my body responds to his devilish grin. “What now?” My voice is laced with suspicion.

Sin’s smirk turns into a full smile. “We have a new tactic to try and get your power to come to the surface.”

I frown at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“You said your power came out when you finally let yourself feel strong emotions,” Sin starts.

I don’t like where this is going.

“So, it’s time to stop repressing those feelings, kitten. You’re going to let yourself feel everything,” Sin finishes, sounding far too pleased with himself.

I blanch.

“Absolutely not,” I snap.

That is the opposite of a good idea. Repressing my emotions is the only way I function most days. I can’t afford to fall apart now.

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t need to dive into your past or anything you’re not comfortable with. Let’s start by honestly letting yourself feel your emotions as they arise through the day. Not just the bad, but all of them,” Sin notes, speaking to me like I might bolt at any moment.

I can’t fault him for those solid observation skills.

Dark circles start to line the edges of my vision, and my body starts to stiffen. The thought of feeling everything is enough to bring on the threat of a panic attack.

My realm. My home. My friends.

I repeat the mantra, reminding myself what I have to lose if we aren’t successful.

My power can help win this war.

“Okay,” I answer, swallowing.

I can do this. Feelings aren’t scary.

This is totally okay. (It’s not okay).

“When I ask you what you’re feeling, be honest. It will help you keep track of whether you’re being honest with yourself,” Sin adds, barely containing his smile.

Of course, he’s going to enjoy this.

My cheeks flush further, and I wonder if mortification is a legitimate cause of death. “You’re using this as an excuse to make me talk about my feelings,” I accuse.

Sin arches a brow. “Magic is tied to emotions. If you’re not letting yourself feel your emotions, then how can you use it? This is a solid avenue forward.” He pauses long enough to give me a devastatingly wicked smile. “You discussing your feelings happens to be a very desirable bonus.”

I cross my arms. “Can’t I talk to Arianna or Rosie? Hell, I’ll even talk to Morgana instead of you.”

Sin shakes his head slowly before purring, “It has to be me. I’m the one who can nullify your power if it gets out of control.”

I grit my teeth at his logical answer.

Damn him.

“Fine. How are we doing this? Do we just go about our usual training, and you play therapist, asking about my feelings?” I grit out.

“It’s only usual training if you keep losing,” he teases.

I narrow my eyes at him. “If I win, we stop for the day.”

“Sure, why not? Knock me over, and we can have fun,” he adds, smirking.

My pulse goes erratic at the suggestion in his comment.

Slowly, I pace towards him, circling and looking for an advantage. Sin doesn’t bother to track my movements.

He’s getting cocky.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” Sin calls.

He’s trying to rile me. I circle him again, thinking up a strategy, and don’t acknowledge his teasing.

I’m focused.

Sin keeps saying I’m slow. And after seeing how he moved today, I’m in complete agreement because no human can move as quickly as he does. The only way I’ve ever knocked this man down is by outsmarting him.

Sin hums impatiently. “Sorry, did you prefer psp psp psp?” he asks, making calling sounds for a cat.

I roll my eyes.

What I need is a distraction. Pretending to twist an ankle is too simple. He’d see right through that. I already tried to distract him with a kiss earlier, and that only resulted in him making me lose control, not the other way around. That still stings.

My plotting is interrupted, though, when Sin takes in my expression and cocks his head. “What are you feeling, kitten?”

I flush. “Honestly?”

Sin lets out a small chuckle, “Yes, that’s kind of the point.”

I want to crawl into a hole, but I answer him, “I’m feeling insecure. I forget every logical reason we shouldn’t be intimate when you touch me, and I don’t think I do the same to you.”

There, it’s said. The dark thought that is much better served stewing inside of one of my emotional boxes is now out in the open. This is mortifying.

Sin looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. That can’t be a good sign. “Do you think I’ve been in control every time I haven’t been able to keep my hands off you? When I marked you? You are the one thing that fucking shatters my control.”

He strides over to me, taking my head in his hands, and his eyes search mine for a moment before he continues, “The only reason I’m hanging on to the last vestiges of sanity is you. For. You. You’ve had your consent ripped away before, and I refuse to do that to you. Regardless of what I want, your comfort comes first, always. I want to do depraved things to you, kitten. To own you and claim you while giving you so much pleasure you can’t remember how to function. But only ever if that’s what you want.”

My heart teeters over the edge into free fall.

The prophecy said I would love a Destroyer, and I believe it. I’m going to love this man. Regardless of whether he can love me back or whether I’m even deserving of it, I’m a goner for him.

“Never think I don’t want you,” he whispers.

“Thank you,” I whisper back and lean into one of his hands. Simultaneously, I don’t hesitate to sweep my leg around his and trip him.

Sin lands with a thud, looking shocked. I grin down at him. “Looks like I win. No more training today.”

I may not have planned the distraction, but I saw my opening and took it. I offer my hand to Sin, helping him up.

“You’re a wicked thing, kitten,” he murmurs. But the words are said reverently, and I’m the opposite of insulted.

We spend the remainder of our afternoon reading in the sitting room. I don’t bother trying to sit on one of the single chairs again, knowing Sin will just pick me up and drag me on top of him again. Instead, I settle beside him on the couch, and Sin pulls my legs over him, tucking a fluffy blanket around me.

My immediate thought is that he’s going to initiate something, but to my surprise, he just sits with me, cuddling. It feels so foreign and yet so natural, all at once. I feel my heart fall just a little further before losing myself in my book.

He reads the book he borrowed from me while I read a fantasy romance with a ton of adventure. I’m calling it research. The heroine escapes from prison by befriending a dragon and convincing it to burn the place to the ground.

I should probably take up book annotating. These pages could translate to more survival skills on my end.

Every so often, Sin asks me what I’m feeling, and luckily for me, getting lost in a book means I get to escape from my own mind, so I don’t feel much of anything other than inner peace.

Truly, guided mediations have nothing on smut.

When the sun finally sets, Sin stretches up, using his fist to crack his neck. The sound makes me cringe.

“Alright, let’s go,” he says, offering me his hand.

I cock my head at him, not moving from my cozy blanket.

“I want to show you something,” he says before scooping me up off the couch, blanket and all.

A startled yelp leaves my mouth just as he apparates us out of the room. We land a moment later, near the cliffs I climbed on one of my first nights here. Only now, we’re a bit further out from the forest.

“To clarify, I don’t think free climbing is a fun activity,” I note, and Sin’s mouth twitches in one corner like he wants to laugh again.

“We aren’t climbing. We’re going to one of my favorite places,” he clarifies, setting me down.

The air outside is warm, and I fold the blanket over my arm as Sin guides me forward, his hand resting on the small of my back. We don’t walk for long before we stop at a small outcrop of rock. I’m about to tease him about his choice of destination when I realize there’s a large crack in the cliff. The opening is large enough to walk through, but the moonlight isn’t strong enough to see where it leads.

A slight pang of claustrophobia hits me, and I stop dead in my tracks.

“It’s okay. We just walked to the tunnel for added effect. I won’t make you walk through it,” Sin reassures me, and I melt a little more.

Such a goner.

My feet leave the ground again, and we apparate over to the other side. The ground feels less steady now, and I look down to find we’re standing on sand.

Tentatively, I turn to see where he’s brought us. My breath catches in my throat, and I freeze to take it in. There’s just enough moonlight to reflect off the soft waves of a cove. The area is entirely sheltered by the cliffs surrounding it, making it feel like a secret oasis.

Sin’s warmth is at my back as he leans close to whisper in my ear, “Do you like it?”

I look up at him as I answer, his face only inches from mine, “I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”

He smiles and gives me a gentle push, urging me forward. I take off running in the sand, trying to kick off my boots as I head for the water.

Once my feet are free, I skip to the water, doing a small happy dance in the shallow area.

Quietly, Sin follows me before crouching down to place a hand in the water. I pause my splashing to watch as his power flares to life. With it, millions of tiny red lights appear in the water.

My eyes widen in wonder, and he moves back from the water, smiling softly. “They’re bioluminescent plankton. I used my power to make them happy, and it causes them to glow.”

The red glow spreads under the waters, swirling along the waves. Looking down, I notice they’re also around my feet, and I hesitate to move. “Is it safe?”

He nods before backing up another step to sit in the sand. “They won’t hurt you. And the glow will wear off when we leave.”

I walk a few more steps along the shore, transfixed by the ethereal beauty of the lights, before turning to look back at Sin.

He’s smiling as he watches me, evidently pleased that I like his happy place.

I’m struck by how handsome he looks when he isn’t scowling at me. Warmth floods me as I take him in, remembering how he touched me this morning.

“What are you feeling, kitten?” he asks, his voice low, as he unlaces his boots.

My entire body is probably blushing, but I push past the embarrassment. “I’m feeling… hot. I’m thinking about you touching me.”

At my confession, Sin’s hands freeze, his eyes locked on mine. His gaze is heated, and it causes goosebumps to erupt over my skin.

“Are you asking me to touch you again, kitten?” he growls.

I bite my bottom lip and back up a step. The action sends a dangerous gleam through Sin’s eyes, reminding me of the first time we spoke.

Sin is a predator, and predators can’t resist the chase.

I purse my lips before smirking. “Come find out,” I challenge before turning on my heel and sprinting as fast as I can along the water’s edge.

I make the mistake of looking back and finding Sin is already only a few feet behind me. I know he’s toying with me, but I make a hard turn anyway, trying to evade him. I hear Sin’s dark laughter a moment before he apparates directly before me. But instead of letting me crash into him, Sin steps aside, hooking an arm around my waist and swinging me around to slow my momentum before settling me in front of him.

He doesn’t release me and instead grips my waist. His eyes search mine, and my toes curl at the heat in his gaze.

Still, he doesn’t move further, and I realize he’s waiting for me to decide.

My move.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, Sin helps lift me so that my legs wrap around his waist. Our bodies press together, and heat pulses through my core.

“What are you feeling, kitten?” he whispers against my ear.

I look up at him. We’re so close; I’d only have to lean in, and we’d be kissing. He’s looking at me reverently like I’m something to be cherished. And instead of pushing down the fear that comes with that thought, I embrace it. There’s no running from this.

“I feel like I’m starting to believe you,” I whisper.

His eyes search mine, and I continue, “I think I am going to be yours.”

Sin’s breath catches in his throat before his hand tangles into my hair. His gaze is starved as he holds me captive against him. “I want you more than I’ve ever desired anything in this universe. Anything that stands in our way, the prophecy, the Fates, even destiny, I will burn them to the ground. I’ll do anything if it means you’ll let me call you mine,” he promises before pulling my mouth to his for a long-anticipated kiss.

Finally.

I reach up to meet him halfway when a bright golden light explodes from my chest.

I shriek. And I would have jumped out of Sin’s arms if he wasn’t holding me. He stares down at the golden light in awe for a moment, and once I realize nothing hurts and no one has been blasted, I do the same.

The light is focused over my chest, but upon quick inspection, I realize it’s emanating from all of me like I have a bright, golden aura. It’s nothing like the energy I’ve exuded, but it feels familiar. I try to touch it, and it dances across my skin, sparkling in the moonlight.

I marvel at the sight.

Sin’s gaze meets mine, his expression mirroring my own.

“I know what you are,” Sin whispers, his tone awed.

I don’t breathe as I wait for an answer. Something I’ve wanted for so long.

Sin’s hands tighten around me almost imperceptibly as he continues, “You’re a Creator.”

Chapter 36

Rule thirty-six: If you’re going to hell, you may as well crack puns while you’re at it.

“Impossible,” Morgana says with an air of authority as she paces across the sitting room.

Sin leans against the wall and shakes his head. “I’m telling you; she used Creator power. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

I’ve been watching them argue for a while now. As soon as Sin realized I had Creator energy, he apparated us back to the castle. I had enough time to grab some dry clothes before he apparated us into the sitting room where Morgana was working. I have no idea when she got back, and I can only hope it was very recently and that she wasn’t here this morning when things got a bit heated in the arena.

Their bickering fades into the background as I try to figure out why the energy seems so familiar. Cassandra’s memories float to the surface, and I sift through them, trying to pinpoint where I’ve seen it before. The answer is so obvious I’m almost embarrassed to bring it up.

Life would be easier if I were more intelligent.

“It is Creator energy. I’ve seen it before.” They both turn to stare at me, and I continue, “The golden energy. It’s the same Leon used in Atlantis.”

Morgana frowns. “You’re both sure?”

An echoed ‘yes’ from us, and Morgana sits back at her desk, her fingers thrumming on the wood. “Imbuing someone with Creator energy is not the same as selecting a Keeper. Keepers are selected by the Fates, or someone can be given a key. Creators and Destroyers are made every time. And most importantly, it takes time. It takes hours to first imbue someone with the seed that will grow into full creative or destructive energy. From there, it takes weeks until the energy fully takes root in the host, and only then is the individual collared. So, unless Vivian had her memories erased by Need, she would have noticed being imbued.” Morgana notes emphatically.

I think back to the night Need was in my apartment, and the blood drains from my face. “She did have hours,” I whisper, now feeling even more stupid.

“Explain,” Morgana orders. Her tone is firm but not angry.

“I used a Ouija board with my friends. Need said that I created a portal, allowing her to find me. But after we used the board, I went to bed, and it was hours before I woke up to find her already in my apartment,” I answer.

“Fuck,” Sin mutters under his breath before shifting off the wall and taking over Morgana’s pacing. “Why, though? Why would Need imbue you with Creator energy if you were already a Keeper?”

Morgana sits back, still drumming her fingers on her desk as she considers his question.

I think back to the conversation I overheard in the library. I wasn’t sure at the time whether Need and Rydon were talking about me, but now I’m almost positive.

“I’m not sure, but they didn’t want me finding out.” I swallow. Before Morgana and Sin can question me, I briefly describe what I overheard in the library that day. “Need and the captain of the guard were talking about a mortal they’d imbued. Rydon, the captain, thought it was risky, but Need assured him I was distracted and wouldn’t find out what they’d done until it was too late.”

Morgana sits up straighter. “The prophecy said you’d love a Destroyer, and they weren’t taking chances. They corrupted your Keeper bond to force your hand, but once you did love him, they needed to ensure you wouldn’t rebel. Turning you into a Creator is as good as turning you into their slave. As long as the Keeper they assign you is a member of the Council, it guarantees you’ll side with them in the war.”

I frown, not seeing the benefit. “But why not just keep me locked up with Leon until the Creator power was fully finished stewing or growing? Why send us on a dangerous mission to kill Sin? That seems like a big risk.”

Sin stops in front of me, his gaze hard. “Because Need wanted you to succeed. By killing me, you’d restore balance. Two Destroyers, two Creators, that’s all there’s ever been. You’d remove any doubt the public has about Need’s creation of Destroyers and Creators. And you’d do it without any ties back to her.”

“That hardly seems prophecy-worthy,” I note, still dubious.

“Did Need or Leon ever say anything else? About what you would do after you finished your mission?” Morgana asks.

I rub my fingers against my temples, trying to remember any other details. “Leon said Need promised me to him. And that once we finished our mission, we’d be hailed as heroes. Then they’d probably make me immortal, he would be allowed to stay awake with me, and then he’d start filling me with babies.” I scoff at the words.

Sin’s tattoos flare, and he growls, “Like fuck he will.”

I smile, more than okay with his possessive attitude.

Morgana’s sharp stare fixes on me. “That would be new.”

I huff, “Women being tied to men and forced to have their children is not new.”

Morgana looks at me like I’m an idiot before continuing, “The alliance of a Creator and Destroyer would be a perfect distraction for the people. Two incredibly powerful beings. Any children you would carry would be something the realms have never seen before. The Council has never supported mixed-blood pairings, but if they were to start, that would be a new era. And no one would think too hard about Sin’s death.”

Sin nods, agreeing with her assessment.

I might throw up.

Knowing I might be fated to be with Leon is terrible enough. But being used to breed powerful creatures for the Council? That’s a whole new level of no.

I look for any holes in their theory, anything to hint that they might be wrong. “But then, why can I see ghosts? Why can I free trapped spirits, and what was the purple energy? Those aren’t Creator powers, are they?”

Sin runs a hand through his hair before sinking down on the couch beside me with a frustrated sigh. “She’s right,” he admits. “Those don’t line up.”

His thigh presses against mine, and I’m comforted by the warmth. This conversation is giving me chills in the worst way.

Morgana echoes his sigh. “I know, I know. There’s something else going on. That’s why Magnus can’t pinpoint what you are. You’re either something new or something so old that his memory can’t remember ever sensing it before.”

Sin rests his arm on the back of the couch, and his fingers come to the back of my neck as he starts rubbing it in slow circles. I glance over at him, but he’s focused on the conversation. I’m not even sure he realizes what he’s doing.

Morgana frowns at her hands, like she’s having an internal debate.

“Talk to us, Morgana,” Sin says, pulling her out of her head.

Her opaque eyes lock on us. “Whatever Vivian is, we need to know. Especially now that we know she has Creator power. Vivian, if we were worried the Council would attack before, it’s nothing compared to what they’ll do to get you back before your Creator powers reach their full potential. Creators may not be as dangerous as Destroyers, but they still hold immense power. The Council won’t risk that falling into our hands. They will attack. Soon. But if Vivian has power that can help us win, we need to know.”

Morgana offers me a small apologetic smile before continuing, “I’ve been thinking about it since you freed the forsaken. If you’re nothing any of us has seen before, then you need to see someone older than all of us.”

She pauses, and Sin’s hand tightens against my neck, his gaze hardening.

“You’re joking.” His words are clipped.

I look between them, trying to figure out what they’re talking about.

Morgana shakes her head. “If he doesn’t know what she is, no one will.”

“The Underworld Realm is occupied by the Council. It has been for millennia,” Sin argues.

“The man in the wall does not work for the Council,” Morgana corrects.

I frown at them. “Who is the man in the wall?”

“He’s a speaking corpse,” Sin spits.

Morgana turns to me, her face serious. “He’s the oldest creature I’ve ever seen. He’s trapped deep in the Underworld Realm and has been since well before my time.”

“But why?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Legends say he used to be a god but lost his power and can never leave his prison,” Morgana answers.

I swallow. “And he doesn’t work for Need?”

Sin turns to me, still looking agitated. “He works for no one.”

“If anyone can tell us what you are, it’s him,” Morgana argues emphatically.

I breathe. Once. Twice.

Answers.

I’ve waited so long to learn why I can see ghosts.

“Then I need to see him,” I state, trying to sound as confident as possible.

Sin sighs, and I turn to him. “You said the Underworld Realm is under Council rule. Can you still apparate us there?”

He shakes his head. “The majority of the realm is heavily warded. We can apparate close to the surface, but we’ll have to go on foot from there.”

Morgana stands, eying us both. Her voice takes on the familiar, commanding tone. “Get in and get out unseen. Sin, you know the risks of using Destructive power in their realm. Use it, and they have the full support of the Council to attack us. Stealth is key.” She turns to me before continuing, “The Underworld Realm isn’t like the others you’ve visited. It might be mostly uninhabited, but it’s not safe.”

“So, is this the actual underworld then? Where souls go in the afterlife, and mortal sins are punished? You know, the whole fire and brimstone thing?” I ask jokingly.

Morgana’s eyes lock on me. “There is no afterlife. Souls are sold into slavery, and then they come here.”

I shake my head. “Yes, I’ve heard. But in the Mortal Realm, we have stories of the underworld.”

Sin gives me a soft smile. “Whatever your stories, they’ve been dreamt up by mortals. The Underworld Realm is a shell. There are no souls there.”

I slump. Those were definitely not the words that my very mortal self wanted to hear.

Standing, Morgana nods to us before heading for the door. “Get your things and go as soon as possible. It’s a long way down to the bottom.”

Once she’s gone, Sin turns to me, eying me warily. “You’re sure about this?”

I give him my most confident smile, even though I don’t feel it. “Of course. I’d walk to hell and back with you, Sin.”

I try to get the words out without laughing, and Sin doesn’t even crack a smile. “That was terrible.”

I purse my lips before continuing, “Hey Sin? Go to hell.”

Chapter 37

Rule thirty-seven: Chug! Chug! Chug!

The entrance to the underworld is completely underwhelming. I was expecting large wrought iron gates, maybe welded together with the bones of millions of inhabitants. Or at least a little bit of fire. A three-headed dog would have been a treat, too.

But instead, I’m standing in front of a stone staircase leading down under a mountain.

Shame.

“This is it?” I ask Sin, disappointed.

Sin shrugs. “It’s not the main entrance. No one ever bothers to come here. The Council technically owns the realm, but they’ve never bothered to populate it. The main entrance is likely guarded, so we’re using the back door.”

I eye the dark stairwell a bit warily. The tunnel is still large enough that a vehicle could drive through, so I’m not getting claustrophobic.

Silver linings are good.

“How far to the bottom?” I ask, buying myself a few more minutes of fresh air. Caves and I have had a less-than-stellar history together. At least if I piss off Sin, he can be a living flashlight. He seems more durable than a smartphone.

Sin walks to the steps but pauses at the first one. “A few hours. Longer now since we’re going to try and come in undetected.”

He holds out his hand to me. “Ready, kitten?”

I swallow but take his hand. “Ready.”

Sin eyes me before moving. “If anything happens, get out. Get out and hide until I find you.”

He doesn’t give me time to argue, starting down the steps.

The stone steps are steep, and within minutes, we’re swallowed by the darkness. I squeeze Sin’s hand, wondering how the war might play out differently if I trip and break my neck. Neither of us has said a word since entering, not wanting to risk being discovered.

Sin squeezes my hand in response, acknowledging me. A moment later, a faint red ball of energy appears at our feet. Its light is just enough to help me make out where the next step is. We continue down for ages, and with the light from the mouth of the tunnel completely gone, I quickly lose track of time.

This is how I picture sensory deprivation. Our footsteps don’t make a sound, and we take care to be as silent as possible.

At one point, I start counting the steps, just to give myself something else to focus on, other than the constant straining to listen for signs of other life. I hit step six thousand, seven hundred and twelve, when we finally hit level stone.

My muscles are screaming, and I regret not using my college gym pass to work out on the stair master. As it turns out, the few flights to my apartment were insufficient to prepare me for life after college.

We’re inside a large stone corridor, which snakes into the darkness. The air is heavy, and I wonder if oxygen carries here well enough to sustain a mortal. The thought gets my pulse racing, and I try to not think about how far below the surface we are.

It’s a big tunnel, Vivian. It’s not small. You’re fine.

Sin squeezes my hand, and I look up to find him looking down at me, concerned.

Squeezing back, I give him a small smile, hoping it’s reassuring. I nod into the darkness as if to say, ‘Lead the way, glowstick warlord.’

I hope my nod conveyed the message adequately.

Sin squeezes my hand again before we set off into the tunnel. The silence isn’t absolute anymore, and I catch the occasional sounds of water dripping and distant footsteps. My heart thunders in my ears at the footsteps, but Sin continues, seemingly unbothered.

The tunnel starts to split off into multiple paths. We’ve taken two thousand four hundred and ninety-five steps. I can’t remember what turns we took, but at least counting distracts me from the fact that the tunnels are definitely getting narrower. There’s a smell now, too. It’s making me want to gag the further we go down the tunnel.

Sin pauses at the mouth of a tunnel, listening. I peek around the edge to see a large, open cavern. Along the space’s edges are at least a dozen other tunnel entrances. Small torches line the walls, removing the option to go in unnoticed. If someone comes through any of those tunnels, we’ll be seen.

I wish that was the worst thing about the room. But the floor is dotted with rotting corpses, each in different stages of decay. Their mouths are twisted open as if they died screaming.

I blink. Well, that explains the smell.

Sin points to a tunnel opening almost directly across the room. The entrance is no different from the others except for a small black mark on the torch beside it.

Sin’s memory is doing pretty good for his age. I’m impressed.

Another breath and Sin gives a gentle tug on my hand. I nod at him so he knows I’m ready. We step out into the light, straining to hear every sound.

So far, so good.

Maybe this place isn’t as dangerous as Morgana hinted.

And maybe I need to stop jinxing my life.

Once we reach the center of the cavern, Sin collapses. He goes down hard, and I barely stop his head from slamming into the floor. “Sin!” I whisper-yell, rolling him over to see what’s wrong.

His eyes have rolled behind his head, and he starts convulsing.

“Sin!” I call him more loudly, trying to shake him out of whatever episode he’s having. I don’t see any signs of a wound, and there’s no one around.

Suddenly, to my horror, he sits up and starts yelling, “No! No, don’t take them! Please! Take me instead!”

His eyes are still rolled behind his head, and my heart starts thundering in my chest.

Oh fuck, this is bad. So bad.

“Sin, stop! Wake up!” I yell back at him. I slap his face, trying to snap him out of whatever is happening.

He continues to scream, his face twisted in terror, oblivious to me. “No! Take me instead! Kill me! Leave her alone!”

I don’t want to panic.

That doesn’t mean I’m not panicking.

I grab one of my daggers and slice it across Sin’s arm, hoping the pain will snap him out of it.

Nothing.

He keeps screaming.

I can’t even hear if guards are coming. But with the noise he’s making, I know we don’t have long.

It’s like he’s stuck in a dream, reliving a horrible memory.

More screams, and I hear yells in the distance.

Sin is too big for me to drag out.

His words from earlier ring in my head. To leave him and hide if anything happens.

I look at him, desperate, but I can’t do it. I won’t leave him.

I grasp at anything to try and get him out. Sin is trapped in his pain, reliving a memory, just like the faceless back in my realm. It’s a long shot, but I have to try.

Blocking out the sound of yelling and footsteps, I take a deep breath. I focus on Sin, on his pain. He’s hurting. Whatever he’s seeing, it’s horrific. I can’t stand to see him like this. My heart aches for him, and with that, the silver energy I use on the trapped spirits flows from inside of me, circling Sin.

Another breath and Sin stops yelling, his eyes returning to normal. I grab his arm, pulling him up to stand. He helps me, even as he stares at me, looking lost.

I pull at him more urgently, and he follows slowly until I turn back and hiss, “Move it! They’re coming!”

Sin blinks, still looking out of it, but he follows me, keeping up. I hustle down the tunnel he pointed out before, only focused on getting us as far from the cavern as possible.

We run for another minute when Sin finally squeezes my hand. “Fucking fuck,” he mutters.

I take that as a sign he is fully back to consciousness.

He takes the lead, tugging us down another long tunnel at a fork in the path. We slow down, listening for any sound.

It takes just a heartbeat to hear the reverberating footsteps. Guards are coming. From the sounds, they’re on both sides of the tunnel. I turn to Sin, and he’s looking around, his eyes assessing. I reach for a blade, ready to fight the guards, but he pulls me forward another ten steps.

Before I can question what he’s doing, Sin picks me up, shoving me into a crack in the ceiling I hadn’t seen in the darkness. I roll over, trying to make room, and Sin climbs up beside me a second later.

The crevice is tiny, barely wide enough to fit a single person lying down. Sin’s body is glued to mine, and I’m all too aware of the stone walls pressing in on us from all angles.

The guards’ footsteps grow louder, but it’s hard to hear them. The walls are closing in on us. My lungs aren’t working right. There isn’t enough air, and we’re stuck. Stuck in the cave. Circles form on the edges of my vision, and I keep trying to breathe.

It isn’t working. The claustrophobia is taking over.

Sin is whispering to me to be quiet, but I can barely see him; the tunnel vision is getting too deep.

More heartbeats, and Sin’s hands are on either side of my face, trying to bring me back. I can’t, though. There’s no air.

“Fuck, please forgive me for this, kitten,” he whispers.

He pulls my face towards him, and his lips crush against mine. The panic still has its grip on me, and Sin angles my face, deepening the kiss. My pulse stutters. I try to breathe, but the air won’t come.

Sin’s hands are gentle on my face, but he shifts to wrap a hand in the hair at the nape of my neck. He tugs just as his tongue sweeps in to fully explore me. An intense heat surges through me, and I inhale sharply at the sensation. He pulls back a fraction, only to nip at my bottom lip, and I swallow my moan before slamming my mouth over his.

At my response, Sin’s fingers tighten in my hair, and the kiss becomes wild, all tongues and teeth, each of us desperate for more.

After long moments, Sin starts to pull back, and I suck his bottom lip, reluctant to let him go. His answering growl travels straight to my core, and he claims my mouth again. Only once my lips are swollen does he release me and whisper, “Guards are gone, kitten.”

He climbs out of the crevice, and I follow. His hands come around my waist to settle me on the floor. He doesn’t let me go, though, instead pressing his forehead to mine. “I’m so sorry. You were panicking, and it was the only thing I could think of to distract you from the small space.”

His breathing is still labored, and I realize mine is the same.

I’ve wondered for a while now what it would feel like to kiss him. I have my answer now.

Addictive.

Kissing Sin is addictive.

My body is still flushed, and I’m not entirely opposed to climbing back into the crevice if it means I can taste him again.

Sin sounds devastated, though. Like he’s violated me.

I clear my throat as silently as possible before whispering, “It – It’s really okay. I didn’t mind at all. And to be fair, I cut your arm back there to try to snap you out of whatever nightmare you were stuck in.”

Sin frowns at me, lifting his head but not letting me go. “What happened back in the cavern?”

I swallow. “You collapsed and started screaming like you were seeing something horrible. I used my ghost powers to pull you out of it.”

Sin’s hands tighten on my waist, and he looks livid. “Fates above, kitten. I told you to leave if something happened.”

I frown back at him. “Since when do I listen to your orders?”

Sin’s jaw ticks. I smile at him.

He sighs, releasing me. “You should have left. And I’m sorry again for kissing you.”

That’s precisely what a woman wants to hear after kissing the guy she has too many fantasies about.

I huff, “I’m sorry it was such a disappointment for you.”

Sin whirls on me, pressing me against the tunnel wall. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

I glare at him. “I get it. You regret kissing me. You didn’t like it. It’s fine. We can move on and continue the mission. We don’t need to keep revisiting.”

It’s not like I have much experience in the kissing department, but I didn’t think I was bad enough to warrant not enjoying it.

Sin looks at me like I’m insane before grabbing my hand and pressing it against his pants. Immediately, I feel his thick length straining through his pants.

Inhaling sharply, I look up to meet his gaze.

He presses himself against my hand once before growling, “Does that feel like regret, kitten?”

I shake my head quickly, and he releases my hand.

“I’m sorry I kissed you here while you were in the middle of a panic attack and not in my bed, with you naked and writhing against me,” he finishes, pulling me off the wall.

Heat courses through my body, and my pulse races. “Thanks for clarifying,” I whisper as we continue on.

He nods, and we slip back into silence.

Two thousand and twenty-six steps, this time until we stop again. Another cave opens up before us, a table with two goblets within it. A door lies just beyond the table.

Sin motions for me to wait as he enters the cave. He makes it across the room without issue and waves me forward.

The whole lack of convulsing is a nice change of pace. I like this cave better.

Sin tries the door. It’s locked by a thick bar, but no matter how much he struggles with it, it doesn’t budge.

I pad into the cave, moving to the table. A small note waits there, next to the cups.

‘Only those who drink may pass.’

I peek inside the goblets, which look filled with wine.

Sin struggles against the door again, and I call out to him softly, “Hey, it looks like we need to drink these.”

Sin looks at me, frowning, before coming over to read the note. “Like fuck you’re drinking that,” he hisses.

I arch a brow at him, and he narrows his eyes in response. “For all you know, it could be poison, set out for anyone who tries to reach the man in the wall. Please, kitten, don’t accept drinks if you don’t know where they came from.”

He moves back to the door, trying to free the lock.

My gaze lingers on the goblet. Nothing in my gut is telling me the drink is a danger. Just like in the cavern before, other than being discovered by the guards, I wasn’t at all worried about the corpses.

It’s such an odd feeling. It’s almost comfortable here if you can get over the tighter stone passages.

Sin’s tattoos glow faintly red, and I realize he’s using his Destroyer powers on the lock. I hold my breath, waiting for it to disintegrate.

Nothing happens.

Sin’s tattoos glow brighter, but still, the lock doesn’t budge.

The lock is impervious to Destroyer energy. Other than the wards around the Council’s castle, I didn’t even know that was possible.

Sin continues to use more power, and I’m acutely aware that he isn’t supposed to do that here. I make an executive decision and down the first goblet.

The liquid heats down my throat, and it burns like I’ve just tried to chug liquor.

I wait a beat before calling, “Sin?”

Sin grumbles at the lock before turning to me.

I smile sweetly at him, fully aware I’m about to piss him off. “It isn’t poison,” I note, showing him my empty drink.

“Kitten, what in the actual fuck were you thinking?” he barks, stalking over to me. His tattoos are glowing even brighter now. “You’re a mortal. You could have died.” He takes the goblet from me, glowering.

I shrug. “I had a feeling it wasn’t poison.”

He rakes his hands through his hair, muttering, “A feeling. You risked your life on a fucking hunch. Fates, the only era you’re going to usher in is the one where I go crazy trying to keep you alive.”

I pick up the second goblet. “That sounds like a fun job. So, are we going into the other room?”

Sin’s sigh could knock over a small house as he takes the cup from my hands. Despite the clear anger radiating off him, he’s gentle doing it.

He gives me one last glare before downing it. Not even a heartbeat later, Sin starts coughing and sputtering, his tattoos dimming. He doubles over, still choking on the liquid.

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, patting his back.

More coughs until finally, Sin stands back up, breathing evenly.

His eyes widen in horror.

My stomach drops.

Oh god, is he about to have another episode?

But instead, he looks at his hands before looking back at me. “My powers are gone.”

Just as the words leave his mouth, the lock on the door clicks open.

Chapter 38

Rule thirty-eight: The more the testosterone, the more difficult the diplomatic relations.

“What do you mean, it’s gone? Is that even possible?” I stare at Sin, dumbfounded.

Sin shakes his head, dismayed. “I didn’t think it was. We need to leave. We’re unprotected.”

I purse my lips at his words, and my eyes stray to the open door behind him, beckoning me. “We can’t apparate out of here without your powers anyway. We may as well keep going until we figure out what just happened.”

Sin frowns, glancing at the door. “I don’t like it. This was set up to weaken us. We’re powerless.”

I pause, waiting to feel the anxiety creep in. But I don’t feel worried or negatively affected by the drink at all. Out of curiosity, I focus on the silver energy I used earlier, and the silver wisps dance across my fingertips.

My eyes widen in surprise, and when I look back at Sin, he’s staring at my hands. He’s still frowning, but there’s something else there, too.

Curiosity.

He wants answers, maybe just as much as I do.

He nods once. “Okay, kitten.”

We make our way inside. The room beyond is another cavern, similar in size to the one we just left. There’s no light, and we’re shrouded in darkness.

I try to step forward again so I’m standing next to Sin, but he reaches out, keeping me tucked behind him.

“Welcome,” a smooth voice drawls out.

I stiffen, and Sin squeezes my hand. I hear his blade leaving its scabbard and draw my dagger, just in case.

“Forgive me, where are my manners?” the voice calls out again, and with it, torches around the room blaze to life.

I blink at the bright lights, and my eyes settle on a figure in the far wall. And I mean quite literally in the wall. Most of his body is encased in the stone, with the exception of his head and forearms. His face is almost translucent; it’s so pale, contrasting against his jet-black hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. His features are sharp, giving him an ethereal look.

“You’re a little less walled-in than the last time I saw you,” Sin notes in the way of a greeting. He doesn’t lower his weapon.

The man in the wall’s lip tilts up. “A very recent development, I assure you. Though one I am eternally grateful for.” He flexes his hands before continuing, “Did you like my improvements to the place?”

“What improvements?” Sin asks, sounding on edge.

“Nothing too serious, I assure you. The Pit of Nightmares, for a start, which I’m sure you enjoyed. Oh, and my little key to enter this prison.” He grins at Sin, and it isn’t a friendly expression.

Sin stiffens, and the man in the wall laughs before continuing, “Not to worry, the effects are temporary. Your powers will return in a few hours, Destroyer.”

“Why?” Sin asks, evidently still a bit upset about the whole powerless thing.

Is magic a crutch?

I could definitely see it becoming a crutch.

Why do stairs when you can apparate?

The man in the wall grows serious. “I’ve just regained some of my power for the first time in longer than you can possibly comprehend. I am rather loath to allow any magical creature into my cell who may want to try removing it.”

My brow furrows, and I finally squeeze past Sin. He glares at me, and I smile at him before turning back to the man in the wall. “Why didn’t your traps affect me?”

Sin’s glare bores into the top of my head. I’m assuming it has something to do with me drawing attention to the fact that the strange man clearly missed a target.

The man in the wall shifts his gaze to lock on me, and he smiles, appraising me, before answering, “Because, Vivian, you belong to me.”

I have had enough experience to realize that diplomatic relations are not a strong suit in Destroyers. Maybe not in most men who suffer from excess testosterone in general. Sin’s answering growl is menacing enough that I reach back and squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“Care to elaborate on that?” I ask simply, not letting him draw a reaction out of me.

The man in the wall smirks. I quirk a brow at him, unimpressed.

“Ahh, it’s delightful to have good company for a change. Are you quite certain the Destroyer needs to be here?” he asks, casting a self-satisfied expression at Sin.

My gut tells me this man won’t hurt me, but I’m not about to leave Sin. “He stays.”

The man in the wall sighs before asking, “Very well. Tell me, Vivian, do you know what I am?”

I purse my lips.

Don’t do it, Viv.

“A little stuck?” I answer.

Why am I like this?

The man in the wall laughs again, this time sounding delighted. “Beyond that, Vivian, I am a god.”

I nearly choke. There’s no way.

I narrow my eyes at him. “A god? As in Hades, God of the Underworld?”

Sin squeezes my hand. “There is no Hades, kitten. Those are myths.”

There’s no mistaking the hint of exasperation in his tone. I’m guessing he has little patience for mortal mythology.

“I’ve been called many names, but yes, Hades is one of them.” He takes in Sin’s dubious expression before adding, “The Mortal Realm is much more closely tied to death than the others. The Underworld may have fallen, but their spirits know where they belong.”

I nod. My necklace doesn’t heat, but I barely pay attention to it. Again, I’m not sure how, but I already know he’s telling the truth.

“So, is that why you think I belong to you? Because I’m mortal?” I ask.

The man in the wall’s eyes lock on me, and I can almost feel the power behind them. There is no doubt in my mind he is a god. “You are immune to my power, Vivian, because you are of the Underworld. The same power flows through your soul.”

Frowning, I step forward out of Sin’s grasp. “What am I?”

“A great many things, but regarding your darker powers, you’re a Reaper. The first in over ten thousand years,” he answers, his gaze blazing into me.

Pictures of cloaked individuals with scythes play in my mind, and I mull the title around in my head. I think of how I release trapped spirits, knowing they are going free.

It fits.

Sin comes to stand beside me again, eying the man in the wall warily. “Why is she the first in so long?”

The man in the wall holds out his hands in a questioning gesture. “That, I’m not sure of. I’ve been encased in this wall since my realm betrayed me ten millennia ago. The Council wanted to control the Fates. As it turns out, the Fates have an insatiable thirst for souls. They consume them like drugs, leaving them at the mercy and control of whoever controls the souls. In a single breath, the Council slaughtered my Reapers, cutting off the source of my power. Without the souls, I grew weak. I’ve been imprisoned here ever since.”

I swallow. “So, you eat the souls too?”

He looks at me like I should know better, and I can’t help but agree.

It was a stupid question.

“The mere thought of consuming a soul is abhorrent. Their presence in the Underworld, their worship. That is what fuels me,” the man in the wall spits.

Sin frowns, suspicious. “So, what changed? Why make a Reaper now? And why are your powers suddenly returning?”

The man in the wall arches a brow. “The Reapers are made by the Fates when they weave together destinies.”

My eyes find Sin’s. “Clotho,” I whisper, remembering how it was one of the Fates who kept trying to keep me alive.

“It would seem that one of the Fates has recently decided to go against the Council’s wishes and wove something extra, something hidden, into your thread of life,” the man in the wall continues, “And before I forget myself, I do thank you for the vast number of souls you sent my way a few nights ago. I am finding the extra mobility and power very pleasing. I was surprised, of course, that something could reap so many souls at once, but it makes sense now.”

I frown at him, not understanding. “Why does it make sense?”

He smiles at me. “You already know, Vivian. You are much more than a simple Reaper. You’re something the likes of the realms have never seen before. A budding Creator and a Reaper. Two powerful and conflicting energies. I imagine, when they combine, you are something truly fearful to behold.”

He pauses, eyeing me further, before adding, “Or at least you will be when that pesky key is removed from your arm.”

His words have my heart jumping into my throat. “You know how to break a Keeper bond?” I ask, trying not to let my desperation show.

I fail.

The bond to Leon looms over my head, always leaving me wondering when he’ll find me and use the corrupted Keeper bond to force me into submission.

The man in the wall nods. “There’s only one way to remove a Keeper bond, Vivian.”

My heart sinks at his answer.

Sin looks at my shattered expression and steps in front of me protectively. “Then we’ll kill him, kitten. We’ll kill him, and you’ll be free.”

I think of the armies likely headed to the Shadow Realm already, just to get me back. There’s no way the Council will make it easy to kill Leon.

I sidestep him, frowning at the man in the wall. “What if I die?”

Sin’s breathing stops, and he whirls on me, but I ignore him. I need this answer.

The man in the wall smiles like he’s impressed. “Very clever. With your Reaper and Creator energies, you probably won’t die for good. Ending your mortal life would likely sever the Keeper bond and allow the Creator energy to fully take hold. It’s struggling now, fighting against your other energies, looking for the proper place to take root.”

Sin growls next to me, “Probably isn’t good enough. We don’t know that you’ll come back if you die.”

I hum, thinking through the dark god’s words.

Sin takes my chin, ensuring he has my full attention. “Tell me you aren’t considering it. Don’t you dare tell me you’re thinking of gambling on your life.”

His expression is devastated, and it kills me that I’m causing him pain. “It’s my freedom,” I answer honestly.

Sin lets me go and paces away, running his hands through his hair.

“Are you quite certain of your relationship with the Destroyer? Once I reclaim my realm, I’ll be needing a queen,” the man in the wall drawls out. “You’re more powerful than anything I’ve seen outside of the God Realm, Vivian, and you’d make a lovely goddess.”

I blink at his proposition and pretend I don’t hear Sin’s muttered cuss.

“I’m flattered, but yes, I’m certain of him,” I answer, hoping to not offend a literal god.

Sin’s mutters stop.

The knowing look on the man in the wall’s face makes me think he already knew my answer. “Very well. Allies then? Send me more souls, Reaper, and I will aid you in bringing down the Council.”

“Allies,” I agree. “So, what should I call you then if you have so many names?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment, throwing an amused look at Sin before answering, “Go ahead and call me Hades. It seems the immortals have forgotten that which made them.”

I smile. If there was ever a moment when being part-way through a history degree had real-life applications, this is it.

More proof that a history degree can work as more than an expensive decoration in your house!

“Well, now that we’ve settled things, I suggest you both take your leave,” Hades says, dismissing us. “The guards you evaded earlier are on their way down here. Might I suggest you find a place to shelter and then take the East exit? It will be less painful for the Destroyer.”

Sin and I exchange glances, and he nods.

East it is!

I turn to Hades. “Thank you for the information. And you’re certain that Sin’s powers will return in a few hours?”

Hades smiles, and this time, it holds warmth. “It has been a pleasure, Vivian. And yes, I assure you, he’ll be as good as new in another six or seven hours.”

I blanch. That’s a long time to wait in a hostile realm.

Sin takes my hand. “Time to go, kitten,” he says, his tone gentle.

I nod, waving at Hades. “I’ll see you when you loosen up a bit more.”

The god of death cackles as we close the door behind us.

Sin and I have no time to process everything we’ve just learned because as soon as we hear the lock click into place, we hear guards coming our way.

Chapter 39

Rule thirty-nine: Don’t become an exhibitionist in enemy territory.

We take off running down a tunnel, heading away from the sound of approaching guards. “Is this East?” I whisper, disorientated.

Sin squeezes my hand, and I take that as a yes. We hurry down multiple well-lit tunnels, straining to hear if the guards are getting closer. Their footsteps echo across different corridors. It’s impossible to know if they’re close.

Sin turns down a completely blacked-out tunnel, and we falter. It’s too risky to take a torch, but Sin’s power isn’t back yet.

I pause, trying to picture the silver Reaper energy. As if energized by this realm, the threads spring to life across my hand.

Well, that would have come in handy during my last cave exploration.

Shame.

Sin pulls me forward, and we continue, trying to be completely silent. The blacked-out tunnels must be used less frequently. This is our best bet for finding a place to hide.

The tunnels continue for ages, all completely dark. We keep moving until Sin finally stops. There’s a small crack in the ceiling above us, similar to the one we climbed into earlier. Sin points to it before taking my waist and lifting me up.

It takes me a few seconds to crawl through, pulling myself over the narrow crevice. Once inside, I swallow my panic and let a bit more power flow out of my hand. With the added light, I can faintly see the crevice opens to a small tunnel.

“I think this is good,” I whisper down to Sin.

A moment later, Sin pulls himself up and follows my lead as we start crawling. I sing ‘Highway to Hell’ in my head, hoping it will distract me from how narrow this tunnel is. The stones feel like they’re pressing down on me, and I’m sure in a few more minutes, I’ll get stuck, wedged between the rocks. My heart is racing, and my vision is starting to darken around the edges. Unless Sin is keen on knocking me out, there’s no way I’m going to last seven hours in a tight space like this.

Almost blindly now, I push forward for another few breaths until, finally, the tunnel opens up to a cave. It’s about the size of a minivan. Not high enough to stand up, but still large enough that my lungs don’t feel like they can’t work.

Sin follows me inside and appraises the spot. “This is good. We’ll hole up here until my power returns.”

Sighing, I lay back on the cold stone floor. I don’t even care that it’s cold. The stones are smooth, and nothing is digging into my back. That’s a win in my books.

The adrenaline that’s been pumping through me during this mission is quickly wearing off, and exhaustion is setting in. I shiver and let the power I was using to illuminate our path die down. The darkness is absolute, but I know it’s wiser to conserve energy.

Sin lies beside me, his arm and leg pressing against me. I feel my shoulders relaxing a bit, savoring his body heat. We stay like that, listening in silence for what feels like ages, until finally, Sin whispers, “So, are we going to talk about what you said back there?”

While a silly piece of me is thrilled to know that Sin isn’t keen on me dying, I can’t ignore the logic in ending my mortal life. “My death is a solid option, Sin.”

Sin stiffens at my answer. “I’m not even going to entertain that thought.”

I pause, confused. “Then what are you referring to?”

Sin turns to face me. “The god of death offered to make you a goddess, kitten, and you turned him down.” His hand finds my waist, and he pulls me so I’m flush against him. “And when he asked you if you were certain of your relationship with me, you said yes.”

My pulse grows erratic at his whispered words.

“I did,” I whisper back.

I hold my breath. Sin’s thumb brushes against my waist. Once, twice.

His whispered question is barely audible, “Did you mean it?”

My heart beats so fast, I’m sure Sin must feel it against his chest.

I could lie. I could tell him I only said it to be polite in rejecting Hades. But at my core, I don’t want to. I trust Sin and don’t want to be dishonest with him.

War is coming, he is my partner, I’m magically bonded to Leon, I have major insecurities… all the reasons I need to avoid Sin are still there. I haven’t pushed them away, hoping to escape for a moment.

I just don’t care. Those worries pale compared to what I am starting to feel for this man.

“Yes,” I whisper back.

Sin’s hand tightens on me, and he mutters, “Fucking, fuck.”

My heart drops. Did I somehow misunderstand Sin’s comments earlier about wanting me to be sure about us?

How did I mess up this badly?

I swallow down my own embarrassment to apologize, “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

“Fates above, kitten, I’m not uncomfortable with your answer,” Sin corrects emphatically. “I’m pissed off because I’ve never wanted to tear off your clothes and fuck you into oblivion more than I do right this moment. But I can’t because we’re stuck in the Underworld Realm, and I’m pretty sure fucking Hades will see everything we do in here.”

“Oh,” I answer, my mind reeling at his words.

Sin isn’t upset. He wants me.

I’m going to need a few more lifetimes to process the last hour of my life.

We lie in silence for another moment until Sin mutters, “Fucking Hades,” and then his mouth captures mine.

Sin claims my mouth like a man who is suffocating, and I’m his life-saving breath. His tongue rubs against mine, fucking my mouth and drawing a guttural moan from me. I kiss him back with equal need, wrapping my thigh around his waist to feel him pressed against my center.

Sin grinds me against him, his hard length rubbing against my clit. I arch at the pleasure, and he swallows my moans as heat builds low in my core. It feels as though my nerve endings are hyper-sensitive, lighting up everywhere he touches. The atmosphere around us is electric. It’s as if it’s charged by the desire that flows between us.

When Sin releases my lips, I tug at his hair to pull him back. But he ignores my silent plea and places heated kisses down my neck instead. I gasp as he hits the sensitive spot below my ear.

“I won’t give Hades a full show, kitten. I don’t share what’s mine,” he whispers between kisses. He lets go of my thigh, but instead of pulling away from me, his fingers graze at the top of my pants, his fingers teasing just below the fabric.

I whimper, needing more, and Sin licks at the junction of my neck and collarbone as his fingers dip beneath my pants.

“Please, Sin,” I whimper, begging him for more.

Sin groans, “Fuck, you do things to me when you beg. What do you need, kitten?”

I grind against his hand, but he stills, not giving me what I crave. “Please,” I whimper again, not at all ashamed that I am begging this man to touch me.

“Words, kitten,” he growls, his mouth leaving my neck. “I’m not going to touch you unless you use your words.”

I growl in frustration at the feeling of his hand so close to my center, and my hands leave his hair to claw down his shoulders.

Sin chuckles and nips my neck, drawing a choked moan from me. “Tell me what you want.”

My cheeks flame, but given our current location, I guess the earth really did open up and swallow me whole. When Sin doesn’t budge, I relent. “Touch me, please, get me off.” My voice comes out breathless.

Sin groans against my neck, “So fucking hot.”

His hand dips lower and grazes against my clit. I arch into the touch as he starts sucking at the sensitive part of my neck, where he marked me just a few days prior. His fingers draw soft circles against my clit, and I moan at the contact.

“Shhhh,” Sin whispers, “We don’t want the guards finding us, kitten. You need to be quiet if you want to come.”

I whimper but do as he says, clamping a hand over my mouth.

In response to my now muffled moans, Sin’s fingers dip lower to skim at my soaked slit. He makes a guttural sound as his fingers tease just at the edge. “Always fucking soaked for me. Fuck, I can’t wait to ruin you.”

At his words, I feel myself growing even wetter. Sin notices, his fingers still teasing at my opening, driving me crazy. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I won’t be gentle. I’m going to wreck you so that you won’t remember what it feels like not to have me inside of you. And then I’ll do it again and again, making you come so hard that you forget how to breathe. I want you fucking shattered, kitten. I want every piece of you fused to me because that’s where they belong. Is that what you want?”

His fingers are driving me to the brink of insanity, and my body grows impossibly more heated at his words.

Fuck, there must be something wrong with me. I should be running in the opposite direction, but instead, I crave every one of his dark promises.

I want it. So badly.

I want to give him control. To let me escape my own head.

Sin whispers again against my neck, “I want to ruin you, kitten, but only during sex. And only with your consent.”

My breath catches.

Sin wants to use me. He could easily take what he wants from me, but he’s making sure I want it, too.

I’m not powerless here.

I move my hand from my mouth to whisper back, “Yes. Please, yes, Sin.”

“That’s my good girl,” Sin growls. And with those words, he plunges two fingers into my soaked center, and his teeth clamp down on my neck.

I scream into my hand, in both pleasure and pain. His fingers curl inside of me until they rub against a spot that has me writhing against him. His palm rubs against my clit, and I start grinding my hips into his hand, increasing the friction.

Sin licks at the tender spot on my neck before whispering, “That’s it, kitten, ride my hand. Make sure Hades knows who makes your pussy weep.”

I gasp, grabbing his shoulders, desperate for more leverage.

Sin claims my mouth for another bruising kiss, swallowing the moans he pulls from me. His tongue fucks mine in tandem with his fingers, and I feel myself starting to tighten against him, my orgasm not far off.

To my frustration, he starts to pull his fingers back. I bite his bottom lip in protest, and he growls in response. The sound isn’t angry, though. It’s charged with desire.

His fingers return to my slit, but this time, I feel the burn as he starts inserting a third finger. “I need to stretch your pretty pussy, kitten. Otherwise, you’re going to tear when I fuck you.”

My breath catches, and my fingernails dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking me with three fingers. The feeling of fullness and the slight burn from being stretched so wide is doing wild things to my body. My core tightens even further, and my legs start to shake.

His fingers fuck me harder as he takes on a bruising pace. I forget how to breathe, how to speak. The pressure builds until I’m sure I’m about to combust.

Sin releases my mouth. “Fuck, yes, that’s it. Strangle my fingers with your pussy.”

My core tightens to a point I never knew possible, and in response, Sin’s fingers curl, pushing against that sensitive spot inside of me again. “That’s it, baby. Such a fucking good girl. Come for me.”

I shatter.

Sin’s mouth captures mine, swallowing my scream. My body convulses around him as the orgasm plows through me. Waves of pleasure crash through me, almost violently, and Sin doesn’t stop pleasuring me. He wrings out every last aftershock until I’m trembling beside him. When he finally removes his hand, I go boneless next to him.

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers, his tone reverent. He pushes a finger inside of my mouth. “Suck, see how good you taste.”

I do as he asks, and the gesture is so erotic my core pulses again.

I lick his finger clean, swirling my tongue against it, and Sin shudders against me in response. He takes his finger back, and I hear him groan as he licks his other two. “Fuck, kitten, that mouth. The things I want to do to it,” he growls, pulling me on top of him.

I move to sit up, wanting to pleasure him, but Sin’s arms force me to lay flush against his chest. “Soon. I let Hades watch you come so that he knows who owns your pussy. But that’s all he is ever getting.”

Butterflies dance in my stomach at the possessiveness in Sin’s voice. I relax against him, letting his delicious warmth spread through my body. Sin tucks my head against his neck, his fingers lightly massaging my back.

I sigh in contentment, nuzzling against him. Sin keeps rubbing circles on my back, and my eyes grow heavier. “Sleep, kitten. I’ve got you.”

More warmth spreads through my body.

A sense of security like nothing I’ve ever felt before sweeps through me. Sin is more than powerful enough to protect me. But he refuses to leave me vulnerable, pushing me to train hard, ensuring I can protect myself. If that isn’t the pinnacle of having someone’s back, then I don’t know what is.

So, I let myself drift off, deep in enemy territory, feeling safe.

Chapter 40

Rule forty: Love triangles are off-limits, especially when it comes to Destroyers.

As far as wake-up calls go, I think I’m cursed.

I don’t know how long I’ve been out when I’m awakened by a jolt of gut-wrenching pain. Gasping, I wrench up from Sin’s arms and double over on the cave floor, trying to breathe.

Sin’s arms are around me in an instant. “Kitten, kitten, what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

Molten heat sears through my body, and a violent ringing starts in my ears.

Oh no. Not this. Not here.

Between gasps of pain, I manage to choke out, “Leon.”

Sin’s fingers curl in my shirt, and through the ringing, I hear him mutter a faint curse. His hands come to my face, and he’s trying to tell me something. “Light. Kitten, we need to go now. My power isn’t back.”

I frown, fighting back tears from the burning that is wracking through my body and the ear-splitting ringing.

“Now, kitten. Move your ass!” Sin whisper-yells, taking my hand and tugging me to the cavern entrance. How he knows how to find it in the dark is a mystery to me.

Pulling my hand from his, I try to focus on my Reaper energy. I hope like hell I can manage to use it through the pain. A wave of nausea hits me, and I try to take deep breaths, pushing through the pain. Small tendrils of fog lick at the corners of my mind, terrifying me.

Not this. Not again.

We can’t be caught by Leon now.

My anxiety spikes at the thought of what will happen if we get caught. Sin is powerless, and I’m not sure how much longer that’s going to last. Not to mention, I doubt Leon is here alone. We’re outnumbered and likely outpowered.

Leon won’t hesitate to kill Sin, and I refuse to let that happen. I won’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.

The thought of going back to Leon sends dread down my spine. But if that’s what it takes to get Sin out safely, I won’t hesitate.

Redoubling my efforts, I pull at my Reaper energy, and mercifully, it responds. Bright wisps of silver energy float up through my hand.

The light illuminates Sin’s profile, and I briefly catch what might be fear in his expression before it’s shuttered away. Again, he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the narrow tunnel.

“Move it,” he urges in the same tone he uses in our training.

Authoritative and demanding.

Not letting myself think of the narrow space, I crawl forward.

He doesn’t stop bossing me around until I finally reach the lip and drop myself back down to the larger tunnel corridor.

Sin’s feet hit the ground a second later, but I don’t have a chance to turn to him. Instead, he sweeps me into his arms and takes off running. He curls me into his chest, and I’m immediately surrounded by his comforting scent. I’m thinking of sassing him for being so highhanded, but his whisper stops me. “You did great, kitten. Focus on keeping up the light, and I’ll work on getting us out of here.”

My pride takes a hit, but he’s right. In my state, it’s taking everything in me to keep the threads of silvery light going. I shift in his arms, holding out my hand so it illuminates our path.

The tunnels all blend together, and I’m once again amazed that Sin has any idea where he’s going. As the tunnels grow wider, the sounds of shouts and footsteps start to echo around us. I crane my neck to look over Sin’s shoulder, but I don’t see any sign of torches.

More and more tunnels and I’m feeling my energy start to wane. The fog presses closer into my mind. I blink, and when I open my eyes, Sin is running up a steep set of stairs. Far above us, a light peeks out.

We’re almost there.

Despite the added weight of my body, Sin doesn’t slow, running up the steps two at a time. Through the pressing brain fog, I frown at the steps. I swear these seem longer than the ones we used to enter the Underworld Realm.

Sin has been running up them for ages.

I take a deep inhale, trying to focus through the fog.

Just a little further.

It takes me a while to realize the pain in my head is rapidly abating the closer we get to the top of the stairwell. I’m relieved for all of two seconds until the crushing realization of why it’s lessening plows through me.

“Sin,” I hiss. A cold chill floods my body as fear grips me.

“Sin, we have to turn around,” I urge, some panic seeping into my tone.

He shakes his head, causing the bottom of his short beard to brush up against the top of my head. “Can’t, kitten. The East wing exit is just ahead. We’re being followed.”

Sure enough, the ringing in my ears is dying down enough that I can hear footsteps far below us.

This is the stuff of nightmares.

“Let me down,” I hiss again, and Sin sets me down but keeps hold of my hand, ensuring we are still going up at a fast clip. The fog is getting dangerously thick in my mind, but I think to extinguish the silvery lights in my hand. The light ahead of us is more than enough to illuminate our way.

The top of the steps is almost directly ahead of us now, and the ringing in my ears has completely stopped. The bond knows I’m going where it wants me. The thought makes me sick until it’s replaced by an even thicker fog. Before I’m completely overtaken by it, I warn Sin, “He’s waiting for us.”

Sin squeezes my hand in response.

A few more steps, and we come to a large, open atrium. The flat stone floors are polished and smooth, and large columns reach the ceiling hundreds of feet above us. A violent-looking river flows through a channel to our left and empties out of the room through a massive hole in the wall. The hole is the cause of the light we saw at the top of the steps. The water cascades over the lip, and I can barely hear it crashing below; the drop is so high.

Well, that explains the extra steps. We’re far above sea level now. The East wing exit leads to the top of a mountain. There are distant green hills far below the hole in the wall.

My attention is quickly drawn from the waterfall when a tugging sensation on my wrist snaps my attention to the right. There, on the other side of the room, is a door. I barely see it, though, my focus thoroughly centered on the person standing before it.

Leon.

My body reacts. More heat floods my system, and I feel drawn to him. Still, despite the thickening fog, I push against the bond, refusing to answer the beckoning call.

Leon’s face is twisted in rage, and he stands guard in front of the exit, ensuring we can’t leave. His tattoos are completely lit up, the blue lights brighter than I’ve ever seen them before. He barely spares me a glance; his focus is so centered on Sin.

“You have something that belongs to me,” Leon growls, his voice low and dangerous. His body is coiled tight, and the predatory gleam I’ve seen in him so often is in full view.

Sin stops our forward movement, and he pulls me back to him. He backs up so our backs are against the drop in the floor where the river courses through. From this position, we can see both Leon and the steps, ensuring no one will sneak up on us.

Sin gives Leon a bored look, but I can feel how tense he is beside me. “Are you sure about that? Because the last time I checked…” he pauses to look at my neck, still red from his bite, “she didn’t want you.”

Leon’s gaze centers on my neck, and he looks furious at what he sees. “I was always going to end you, Sin. But now, I am going to ensure it is slow and painful. You dare fucking touch what is mine? MINE!”

Again, Sin looks barely bothered by Leon’s antics.

The fog continues to thicken in my mind, and the heat flushing through me is worsening. The bond is practically at its snapping point, with Leon and I being so close, but each of us refusing to go to the other. My body sways forward a bit, but I keep my feet rooted.

So close. Don’t give in.

Sin quirks an eyebrow at Leon, who is now shaking with rage, and smiles at him. It isn’t a pleasant smile, though, but a menacing one. “She doesn’t sound like yours when she’s screaming my name and begging for my touch.”

Despite Sin’s taunting to Leon, he squeezes my hand reassuringly as I continue to try and gasp for breath. The heat is turning to molten fire, and desire is lighting up inside of me.

The bond is losing patience.

Leon looks between the two of us before gritting out, “You’re using mind control on her.”

Sin lets out a low, humorless laugh. “You keep telling yourself that. Remember, my Destroyer powers are useless within the wards of the Council’s castle. And she ran from you there.”

Leon’s eyes harden, and he narrows them on me. My body practically purrs at the attention. “She is resisting the bond.” His focus snaps back to Sin, and a smug smile plays across his lips. “It’s no matter though. I’ll burn away every trace of your touch on her body when she returns with me. And I assure you, she is returning with me. The entire mountaintop has been warded against apparition. And Morgana isn’t here to release you.”

Without Sin’s energy lighting him up, Leon must not be able to tell that Sin’s already been released. Sin’s fingers tighten even further around my own. Leon doesn’t notice as he continues, turning his full attention to me.

“Vivian,” he starts, his voice low and beckoning.

The bond practically vibrates through my system, and my body starts to shiver at the renewed waves of molten heat that crash through me.

He holds out his hand, and his voice is like a siren, drawing me in. “Vivian, come away from him. I forgive you for your poor decisions. Whatever you’ve done, you’ll make it up to me.”

The bond tugs at me, pushing me to obey. I grit my teeth, trying to remember the reasons I’m not supposed to give in.

No reasons come to mind.

Leon continues in the same silky voice, “Come on, Vivian. It’s time to go home. We are destined, remember? Only I can love you, protect you. You are mine, Vivian. Tied to me for eternity. There is no fighting it. You know that.”

I shake my head in a last-ditch effort to clear the fog.

Sin feels me shaking and tries to distract Leon, “Leon. Are you so pathetic that you need to rely on what is clearly a corrupted bond to get what you want?”

Leon’s eye twitches, and he spits out, “I will do WHATEVER it takes to keep her. The bond will be a blessing as soon as she stops resisting. I will make her happy. Even if she’s too stupid to see it yet.”

His focus returns to me. “You belong to me, Vivian. Whether you like it or not, nothing can break our bond. You can’t run forever. I will chase you to the ends of the universe. Give in. Let me take away the pain. I’ll remind you who you belong to.”

At his words, white-hot pain sears through my mind, and my knees give out. My body feels like it’s on fire. Like I’m going to suffocate if Leon doesn’t make it stop.

A pair of arms catch me around my middle, stopping me from crashing to the ground. I can’t remember who they belong to, only that they aren’t Leon’s and that’s unacceptable. I struggle against them in an effort to go to him. To let him make the burning stop.

Leon steps closer, and my body starts to sing, desperate for his touch. “Leon,” I whimper through the waves of heat.

Leon grins, knowing he’s won, as he continues towards us. “That’s right, Vivian. Tell Sin who you belong to. Who you’re fucking fated to.”

I whimper again and thrash against the arms holding me back.

This isn’t Leon’s touch.

I need Leon.

But the hands around me only tighten.

Distantly, as if from underwater, I can hear the sounds of metal armor growing closer as guards start to crest the top of the stairs.

Leon pauses, smirking. “You see that, Destroyer, she’s desperate to get away from you.”

His voice only draws me in more, and I scratch at the arms around me, frantic to get to Leon.

But instead of releasing me, a whisper comes above my ear, “Hold your breath, kitten.”

With that, I’m wrenched backwards, the arms still securely wrapped around my middle. Not even a second later, we plunge into the inky depths of the river.

The black water swirls around me, throwing me around in the currents. But I can’t kick or swim because I’m still being held by the arms. I start to panic for air just as the person holding me kicks against the currents, and our faces break the surface of the water. I have just enough time to gasp in some life-saving oxygen and hear Leon’s furious scream when, abruptly, we go over the lip of the waterfall and plunge into the abyss.

We fall through the air, our bodies pummeled by the cascading waters. Down and down, we plummet, sometimes drowning in the falling water, other times finding small pockets of oxygen.

A garbled voice calls out into the air, “Hades! If you want your freedom, I suggest you find a way to return my powers!”

Choking on water, I realize that the green hills are close. Very close.

Sputtering, I look down only to see sharp rocks jutting out of the violently splashing water.

Dead.

We are so dead.

Another breath and the rocks get closer.

This is it.

Just as I’m sure we are done for, a bright red light all but blinds me, and then everything goes black.

Chapter 41

Rule forty-one: Breathe through your nose.

Mercifully, the blinding pain is gone when I regain consciousness. As an added bonus, I think my body is running at a normal temperature, too.

As the events from before my blackout hit me, I gasp, jerking upright.

Golden hues dance across the room as sunlight pours through the balcony doors. Sin’s room. I’m back in the Shadow Realm. My wet fighting leathers have been replaced by a dry tank top and my pink kitten-print sleeping shorts. Someone also wrapped me up in Sin’s blankets, including the one I stole.

I breathe a sigh of relief at not being dead before turning. I almost jump out of bed at the sight of Sin, right next to the bed, sprawled on a chair. He’s dressed in dry clothes, too, clad in a black shirt and sweats, but he looks anything but rested. He watches me silently, his eyes carrying dark circles underneath them. His gaze is wary like he’s waiting for me to blow up at him.

I cough at the dryness in my throat before trying to break the awkward silence. “Hey,” I call softly.

“Hey,” he answers in a low, gruff voice.

I eye him, wondering why he is looking so solemn, before turning to fully face him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Every week has brought a new crisis, and my anxiety starts to climb. Is it Arianna again? One of the others? Was someone captured? Killed?

Sin sits forward, leaning his arms on his knees. “I almost got you killed, kitten. I’m so sorry.” His voice breaks. “You were trying to go back to him, and I took a huge risk, throwing us over the falls.”

I frown at him, processing what he’s trying to say. Sin thinks I’m going to be angry with him for risking my life.

He’s only half right. He did take a huge risk, and I’m anything but happy with him.

I twist, grabbing a pillow and slamming it against him.

Sin doesn’t resist.

“You absolute asshole! What the hell were you thinking, Sin? Your powers were gone!” I grab another pillow and slam it at him.

Sin sighs in resignation before agreeing, “It was a bad call. I’m so sorry I risked you like that.”

“Are you serious right now? We just learned that if I die, I’ll likely come back as an immortal. I probably would have been fine! But YOU! You had no powers, and for all we know, you were not going to heal! You could have died, you big jerk!” My frustration mounts, and I know I’m yelling.

Sin frowns at me, realizing the root of my anger, and then looks furious. “Your blatant disregard for your own safety is the only thing that’s going to kill me. You have no guarantee that you’re going to come back. None! I’m immortal. No has-been god is going to stop that.”

I scoff at him, “He stopped your other powers, didn’t he?”

Sin’s jaw clenches at my words, and he shoves off his chair, stepping towards me in a clear attempt at intimidation.

“You know that doesn’t work on me, right?” I roll my eyes and stand on his bed, more than pleased that I’m taller now and have the upper hand.

I smirk at him, poking him in the chest. “You don’t scare me, Sin. Not even with all your universe-ending powers. I know your secret. Underneath the warlord exterior, you’re nothing but a softy.”

Growling at my words, Sin’s arms dart out, and before I can even fathom what he’s doing, the air is knocked from my lungs as he slams me down on the bed. Sin’s heat blazes into me as he straddles me, and my pulse quickens at the closeness. “Did that feel soft, kitten?”

I almost choke on my spit and shake my head at him. I’d use my words, but I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Sin’s gaze locks on mine, and I know he can tell I’m turned on. His eyes darken as he lowers himself over me. His arms rest on either side of my head, and he grinds his length against my center. “Does that feel soft?”

The erotic gesture only fuels my own desire. I want to wrap my legs around him, but his legs prevent me from moving.

Seeing my frustration at our position, Sin smirks before grinding against my pussy again.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. Teasing me. Driving me to the edge of insanity with lust for him.

Again.

I narrow my eyes at him, refusing to give him the upper hand this time. He is ridiculously good at making me scream for him.

Ignoring the burning in my cheeks, I decide to be bold. He might have my legs pinned, but my arms are completely free.

Keeping my eyes fixed on his, I reach between our bodies and slip my hand inside his sweats. My hand finds his rigid cock, and I squeeze. He’s so thick that I can’t close my hand around him.

Sin’s breath staggers at my touch and his hips jerk forward. I gently run my hand down his length, silently panicking. He wasn’t kidding when he said he needed to stretch me first. Sin’s cock is massive. How we are going to fit is a mystery to me.

Sin growls at my touch, “What are you doing, kitten?”

Running my hand back up his length and squeezing again, I answer, “I want to touch you.”

I’ve watched enough porn to get a general idea of what I’m doing, but it doesn’t stop the burning in my cheeks at my request.

What if he doesn’t like it? What if I’m terrible at this?

Sin shudders around my touch and grits out, “You don’t need…”

“But I want to,” I answer honestly. “Please?”

Sin’s eyes close at my plea, and I swear he gets even harder. “Fuck I like hearing you beg. I like it way too much.”

More heat builds in my core, and I run my hand up and down his length again. “I want to taste you. Please?”

“Fucking Fates above,” Sin mutters, pulling himself off me. He stands beside the bed, and I only have a brief second to wonder what I’ve messed up when his gruff voice interrupts me, “On your knees, kitten.”

A jolt of pleasure fires through me, going straight to my pussy, and I’m quick to obey. Climbing off the bed, I kneel before him. Sin’s fingers gently caress my chin, and he tilts my face up. I watch as he pulls down his pants just enough to release his cock.

He fists it, smirking down at me. “You’re going to take all of me, aren’t you?” His voice has the same dark, commanding tone he uses when he makes me come, and I shudder at the sound, feeling myself get even wetter.

I nod at his question despite having no idea if I can. Not only because of his thickness but also because there’s no way my mouth will fit all of him.

Sin’s thumb brushes over my bottom lip, pulling it down. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before releasing my face and fisting his hand in my hair. He gives a sharp tug, and my eyes flutter at the sensation. “Open up, kitten. Show me what a good girl you are.”

My mouth opens, and he slowly pushes the tip of his cock past my lips. He pauses there, and I take a moment to lick at him, tasting precum on his tip. I moan at the taste, licking him again and trying to take more of him inside my mouth.

Sin groans, his eyes closing as he fists my hair harder. “Fuck, kitten. That feels so good. You’re going to take more of me now.” His eyes lock on mine before continuing, “Two taps on the back of my thigh means stop. Understood?” He loosens his hold on my hair just enough that I manage to nod.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises before tightening his hold again and slowly filling my mouth with his hard cock. I suck on him, twirling my tongue against his length as he continues to push forward. He hits the back of my throat before pulling back and thrusting into my mouth again. The movement pulls a moan from me, the sound vibrating against his length.

“Fuck, yes, kitten. Just like that. You’re doing so good. I’m going to give you more now.” He lets go of his cock, now that it’s buried deep in my mouth. Only instead of stopping at the back of my throat, he continues pushing forward.

I gag at the sensation and at the resistance. But Sin only angles my head up, and his other hand comes to my neck, massaging it. “Relax, baby. Breathe through your nose. You’ve got this.”

I do as he says, and he pushes in deeper, sliding into my throat. My core clenches at the sensation of choking on his cock, and I rock against my legs, trying to create some friction against my pussy.

Sin keeps going until he bottoms out. He lets out a groan before pulling out completely. I gasp, tears streaming down my face from gagging. Yet, despite the discomfort, I love the feeling of him filling my mouth. Who knew choking on someone’s cock could be a turn-on?

Releasing my hair, Sin takes in my flushed face. “Okay, kitten?”

My core pulses again, and I’m desperate to continue, to taste him again. “More, Sin. I didn’t tap.”

His gaze darkens, and he growls before fisting my hair hard and thrusting inside of me. He pushes himself deep, barely giving me time to get used to the invasion in my throat. More tears stream down my face, but I suck his length, trying to get more of him, as he pulls back. “That’s my good girl. You like choking on my cock, don’t you?”

Sin increases his pace, thrusting down my throat and using my mouth. The sensation drives me crazy, and my pussy pulses, desperate for contact.

Sin notices me squirming below him, and he growls out, “Touch yourself. Make yourself come while I fuck your throat.”

Not needing to be told twice, I shift, spreading my legs and dipping my hand inside of my shorts. I moan against his cock as my fingers circle my clit.

“Fuck that’s hot. You’re doing such a good job,” Sin praises as he fucks my throat at a bruising pace.

My fingers swirl against my swollen clit, and I know I’m not far from release. My body is wound up tight, and watching Sin take his pleasure from me is doing things to me.

Another breath, and I feel myself starting to convulse as my orgasm plows through me. I moan against Sin’s cock, and he curses in response, “That’s it, kitten, fuck, yes, I’m going to come.”

He pulls my face flush against him as he bottoms out inside of my throat before letting out a guttural groan. I feel his seed spilling deep inside my throat, and he shudders before finally pulling back and releasing my face.

I take deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart, and Sin leans down to pull me up against him.

He kisses me soundly, his mouth consuming me. I lean into the kiss, letting myself get lost in the pleasure. I press my body into him, and Sin deepens the kiss, hardening against me again.

He releases my mouth just long enough to kiss my neck and whisper, “You did so fucking good, kitten. I’ve fantasized about fucking that pretty mouth ever since I saw you, and again,” he pauses to nip at my throat, “every time you sass me.”

I moan at the contact and am quickly getting on board with going for round two when a knock at the door interrupts us.

Sin tucks himself away before answering, “What?”

Arianna pokes her head in and wrinkles her nose at seeing his arms wrapped around me. I’m assuming she can also tell from my flushed face that we weren’t just discussing the weather.

“First of all, Vivi, I’m so happy you’re awake. Second, you two are gross,” she says, leaning against the doorway.

I give her my best apologetic grin. “I’m so happy you’re back!” and then turn to Sin, “Wait, is everyone back? How long was I out?”

Arianna answers for him, “You were out for almost a whole day. The wards on the Shadow Realm are intense, especially for mortals.” She pauses to tilt her chin at Sin. “But someone got all growly and possessive and refused to leave your side while you were sleeping.”

I frown. “But why is everyone back already? I didn’t think we’d be seeing anyone for a few more weeks, at least.”

Arianna shrugs. “You tell me. Sin yelled at Morgana that something urgent had come up and that we needed to debrief as soon as possible.”

She leans around me, frowning at Sin. “That was hours ago, by the way, and everyone is waiting to hear your news.”

Sin doesn’t look at all apologetic for making everyone wait.

Arianna rolls her eyes at his high-handedness before turning to me, her face lighting up again. “Anyhow, now that you’re up again, want to get dressed? Morgana has everyone gathered in the sitting room. I figured you’d be due to wake up soon and thought I’d make sure Sin wasn’t keeping you holed up with him longer than necessary.”

“Of course!” I exclaim.

Personally, I am mortified that everyone is waiting on us.

Arianna smiles and sends me an air kiss before giving Sin the finger and walking out the door.

I jump to follow her when a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist. “Sin,” I hiss, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Everyone is waiting on us. I need clothes.” I pause before asking, “Why am I in your room, anyway?”

Sin turns me and caresses my cheek. I automatically lean into his touch. “You’re a people pleaser. No one will be upset that you kept them waiting a few extra minutes. Especially after you just woke up from a blackout. Take your time.” His gaze darkens as he adds, “And you’re in here because it’s where you belong.”

His words have my heart slamming at a wild pace, and a jolt of electricity thrums down my spine. If I stay here another moment longer, I’m not leaving this room again for a good long while.

“I don’t want to keep them waiting. They shouldn’t need to worry like that,” I answer gently, pulling out of his arms. Surprisingly, Sin lets me go, and it takes me less than five minutes to fully dress.

I lead the way, and Sin follows quietly behind me as I try to throw my mess of curls into a bun. It really needs to be washed, and Sin’s hands made a mess of it not long before. Still, I manage to get it tied up and out of my face.

The whole team, minus Damien, is waiting for us in the sitting room. Magnus and Rosie sit together, both looking tense and worried. Arianna is pacing along the back wall behind the couches, and Morgana sits at her desk, hands folded together and looking apprehensive. The soft sound of alarm bells ghosts across the room.

I step inside and head for an empty chair, but Sin beats me to it, sitting and pulling me down on his lap.

I sit ramrod straight, a bit embarrassed to be so close to him in front of the others. But no one bats an eye at us, evidently already well aware of how close Sin and I have become.

Instead, the room is filled with a collective tension. They’re all waiting for the worst.

I decide not to prolong their worries and rip off the proverbial band-aid. My eyes find Morgana’s, and I give her a small smile before blurting out, “So, it turns out you were wrong. Myths are real.”

Chapter 42

Rule forty-two: Do not let matters of your life or death fall to a group vote.

Morgana does not take the news well about Hades being real. But then again, I guess learning that you’re not the strongest creatures in the realms might make immortals a little uncomfortable.

She frowns at us, spinning her dagger as if considering where to impale it. “You’re telling me that souls are meant to go to the Underworld Realm? Just like in the silly stories mortals tell?”

Sin nods. “That’s what he said.”

Morgana narrows her eyes at him. “And why would we believe the man in the wall?”

I take offense to that. “Hey, he was good enough for you to send us through dangerous territory to gain information. But now you don’t believe him?”

Morgana huffs, “I thought he’d give us real information, not spin fairytales.”

Sin’s thumb rubs gentle circles against the small of my back as he answers, “He’s not bluffing, Morgana. He took away my power for hours.”

Morgana blanches. “But if he’s telling the truth, then…” She shudders. “I figured the Fates have always eaten souls. That it was just what they do.” She takes another breath before continuing, “It’s just another reason to stop the Council. Was he able to give you any information about your powers?” she asks me.

Sin and I explain my Reaper powers and how I was immune to the Underworld spells.

Arianna is thrilled with the news. “This is so exciting! You’re a dark creature! Just like me!” She rushes over to pull me up off Sin’s lap. “I always knew we weren’t meant to be light creatures. The Guardians made sure of that when we were offered to the dark side of the moon.” She’s beaming, clearly excited to have something else in common.

Smiling at her apologetically, I burst her bubble. “That’s not all, Ari. You weren’t here when we discovered it, but Need imbued me with Creator energy.”

Arianna lets go of my hands, stepping back in shock. “Wait, what? Why in the Fates would she do that?”

I give a slight shrug. “We can’t be certain, but I’m guessing it’s to keep me collared and under her control.”

Magnus interrupts, “I knew your energy tasted different. This makes sense. There are so many energies inside you, it’s not leaving a clear signature.” He looks pleased to know his own powers were not the issue.

Just me. I’m the mess.

At least energetically.

Physically, mentally, and spiritually, I’m probably a mess, too.

Arianna frowns at me, looking confused. “How is it possible that you’re a Creator, Keeper and Reaper all at once? Those are very conflicting energies.”

I walk over to sit on the arm of the neighboring couch, tired of giving my back to half the room. “It isn’t,” I answer honestly. “The Creator and Keeper power cannot fully exist in me at the same time. One has to give out to the other.”

Morgana is directly across from me, and I see her figure it out before I continue, “Hades said that the only way to let the Creator power fully take root is for the Keeper bond to break. And the only way to break the Keeper bond is death.”

Arianna doesn’t let me continue. “That’s ridiculous. You’re not going to die, Vivi,” she says in a harder tone than I’ve heard from her before. Pools of darkness start to leak from her hands.

“Hades believes that ending my mortal life will likely allow the Creator energy to fully take hold and make me immortal,” I finish.

Sin and Arianna start yelling at once, and Rosie flies over to me, her wings twitching anxiously as she tries to reason with me. Magnus watches on curiously, but I keep my gaze centered on Morgana.

I know who holds the most power here, and she’s the ally I need if I have any chance of convincing one of them to kill me.

Morgana watches me curiously but doesn’t seem opposed to the idea. I press my case, “Leon almost got us back in the Underworld Realm. As long as I’m bonded to him, I’m at risk of betraying you all and going over to the Council. If you want me to fight for the right side of the war, then I need to get rid of the bond. Otherwise, your precious chosen one prophecy crap will be useless.”

Sin doesn’t like the sound of that, and he turns to Morgana. “There is no guarantee this will work. The easiest way to break the bond is for me to kill Leon. He’s still collared, and it would be easy for me to take him out.”

Morgana frowns at him. “Sin, you already know why we aren’t taking that path.”

Sin rakes his hands through his hair, agitation mounting. “Absolutely not. This isn’t happening. Killing her is unacceptable.” His tattoos flare, and he turns to me. “You are NOT dying. It’s too great of a risk to take.”

Looking around, I see that Rosie and Arianna look equally upset. Rosie is crying, and Arianna has created a puddle of darkness beneath her.

I swallow back the tears, threatening to break free. I never thought I would be so lucky to have so many people who cared about me. For so long, I thought I didn’t deserve happiness. That my past made me unworthy of ever finding love or friendship. And yet here I am, in a room full of people who are ready to go to war if it means not risking my life.

And that’s precisely why I need to do this.

I need to die.

I am far too much of a risk while bonded to Leon. I know full well how close I was to going to him back in the Underworld Realm. Once back in the grips of the Council, who knows what they would do to me to extract information about my friends? I’m a liability, and I refuse to put them at risk.

I turn to Sin, giving him a small smile. He shakes his head, and the glimpse of fear I saw in him earlier is back. “No. I’m not losing you.”

“It’s not your choice, Sin. It’s mine,” I say softly.

The rest of the room fades away. No one else matters.

Sin shakes his head again, taking a step towards me. “Not this choice. You don’t get to make this one.” His voice is hoarse, and his hands are shaking. Whether from rage or fear, I’m not sure.

“If you take this choice from me, you’re no better than they are,” I whisper back, feeling a tear fall.

Sin looks devastated by my words and stands in front of me. His hands cup my cheeks, and I can see the moisture in his own eyes. His gaze searches mine for a moment before he finally speaks, “You can’t ask this of me, kitten. I can’t do it. I can’t kill you.” His voice breaks in the last sentence.

My hand comes to his cheek in return, another tear spilling free. “I know, Sin. I’m not asking you to kill me.”

“I’ll do it,” Morgana finally weighs in on my decision, her words pulling Sin and me out of our embrace.

I turn to her and find her staring at me with a solemn expression.

“I’ll kill you, Vivian,” she finishes, standing from her desk and walking towards me.

Chapter 43

Rule forty-three: If you’re going to die, go out with a bang.

Morgana walks towards me, but I’m surprised to see Rosie jump in front of her, holding out her hands.

“Absolutely not!” she chirps, sounding furious, as she sniffles through tears.

I sigh, “Rosie, I’m sorry, but this really is my choice and…”

Rosie interrupts me, sounding once again like the hard taskmaster she was the day of the party. “You are not dying without a proper send-off, Vivian. We celebrate birthdays, and I’ll be damned before we pass up the opportunity to celebrate your death.”

Her face is set in hard determination, and I know there’s no way we are going to talk her down from this. Not to mention, a tiny part of me is grateful to have a bit more time alive.

Just in case.

Nodding, I give in. “That’s a great idea, Rosie. Thank you.”

She beams before fluttering her wings. “Oh, this will be great. Don’t you worry, Vivian. I’ll make it perfect.” Rosie glares at everyone in the room. “Vivian has made her choice, and you will all celebrate her. Understood? We celebrate tonight, whether you like it or not.”

Sin gives me a furious glare before storming out of the room.

Rosie clears her throat. “Correction – ALMOST all of us are celebrating tonight.”

The others in the room nod, and while Arianna looks less than impressed, she inhales deeply, pulling some of her darkness back. “You’d better be right about this, Vivi, or I will hunt down your soul just to kill you myself.”

I give her my most reassuring smile. “They wouldn’t have made a huge deal about my prophecy if ending my mortal life meant I was dead for good. It’s going to be fine.”

Do I believe a word I just said?

Maybe?

I’m like seventy percent sure I won’t die for good. And right now, those are decent enough odds.

Arianna gives me a tight smile and turns to Rosie. “How can I help?”

But before Rosie can answer, Morgana chimes in, “I’m going to go look for Sin and try to talk him down.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I ask, worried about him.

Morgana purses her lips before answering, “I’m not sure. He’s never –” she pauses as if trying to find a way to explain without revealing more than she should. “He cares for you a great deal. That’s new to him. And I imagine the idea of losing you is very unpleasant.”

I swallow, nodding at her, and Morgana continues out the door.

Magnus clears his throat and claps me on the back. “Well, little enigma, I have no doubt you won’t be leaving us permanently, but I’m always available for a party.”

The four of us chat for another half hour, discussing possible party ideas. It’s nice to take the time to think of something other than my looming death. This feels almost normal. Like pre-supernatural experiences, kind of normal. We bounce around different possibilities, but ultimately, my ideas win out since it’s my death-day party. We settle on a bonfire on the beach, with good music, Mortal Realm snacks, and lots of peach schnapps.

Rosie and Magnus get to work on gathering all the supplies we need, and Arianna keeps me company, hanging out in my room with me after I’ve showered. We have instilled an all-important ‘no talking about my possibly becoming permanently dead rule’ and are instead focused on having a lazy afternoon.

It’s pure bliss – other than the fact that I haven’t seen Sin since he stormed off.

Arianna braids my damp hair so I will have beach waves for the party. We decide to wear matching outfits – courtesy of Arianna robbing my wardrobe blind yet again. It’s too warm for long pants, and for once, I’m not ashamed of my scars. Everyone here has seen them, and no one has made a big deal. So, in the spirit of self-love and body confidence, we take daggers to two pairs of my jeans, making cutoff shorts.

I try to pair mine with a tank top, but Arianna threatens me with shredding all my human-realm clothes if I don’t let her choose our tops. When I point out that she’s already stolen half of my clothes, she raises a brow at me.

“Excuse me? You do realize those are MY fighting leathers over there, right?” she asks, pointing to the chest at the end of my bed. Laughing, she adds, “I don’t mind, Vivi. I’m happy sharing wardrobes.”

A warmth spreads in my heart at her words. She really is like a sister to me. I’ve always wanted a sister. Or at least I did until I realized what a monster my mother was. Then, I was grateful there was no one else for her to traumatize.

Arianna digs through my drawers until she finds two of my lace bralettes. They each have spaghetti straps, a deep plunging V-neck, and they end in a small band right below the chest.

I laugh, sure that she’s messing with me.

“Those are bras, Ari. They don’t leave anything to the imagination. That’s a hard no for me. But you go for it if that’s your jam.”

Arianna smirks. “Your boobs won’t show if you put a bra underneath. Now get dressed and stop complaining.”

I wrinkle my nose but take the bralette from her.

By the time dusk rolls around, Arianna and I look like we’re ready for a beach festival. Our hair is down in matching waves, and we’re both in black bralettes and jean shorts. We’re barefoot, and Arianna painted our cheekbones and shoulders with glow-in-the-dark glitter. Arianna’s glitter is pink, and mine is aquamarine.

It’s a festive look for us.

Linking arms, Arianna apparates us out of my room, and we land on the sandy ground.

Peering around, I realize we’re on the same beach Sin brought me to the other day. I look around the cove but don’t see him.

There’s a huge fire burning in the center of the beach, where Magnus is steadily apparating in more wood. Driftwood logs have been rolled over to create some seating, and Rosie has laid out a small table full of Mortal Realm snacks. There’s music blasting from a small speaker placed in a divot of one of the cliffs, and music echoes off the surrounding walls, creating a pulsing sound in my blood.

I smile and yell at Arianna to be heard over the music, “I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place.”

Arianna grins. “I showed Rosie. I’ve been all over this realm, Vivi. I know all the best hideouts,” she says before taking my hand and pulling me to the party.

The night is just about perfect, save for the absence of Sin and Morgana. Rosie really came through with the snacks, and we roast hot dogs and marshmallows over the flames. Bottles of peach schnapps are being passed around, and a pile of empties is rapidly growing under the table.

The mood is jovial as we all let ourselves unwind for the night. I’m just roasting my seventh marshmallow when Morgana apparates into the cove. She gives me a tentative smile as she approaches the party.

She knows what I’m going to ask before I even get the chance to open my mouth.

“He’s okay, and he’ll be here,” she tells me over the music.

Blowing out my flaming marshmallow, I raise a brow. “How did you convince him to come?”

She grins at me in a way that I’ve never seen her do before. It’s mischievous.

So far, things have been strained between the two of us. I don’t think Morgana warms up to people very quickly, and I’ve been fairly standoffish, given the whole ‘she killed me once’ thing.

Ironic that she’s going to be killing me again.

Life is funny like that.

“He doesn’t want to come. He’s brooding,” she says, smiling smugly.

I frown at her. “But you said he was coming?”

Morgana winks at me, and it’s only a little odd, given her opaque eyes. “He will. Because once the party starts going, I’m going to tell him that you’re dancing with Magnus and that he’s looking like he wants to give you a proper send-off.”

I choke on my marshmallow and then sputter laughing. “That is devious.”

Morgana grins. “He’s scared right now and needs the right motivation to push through the fear.”

I give her a warm smile. “Thank you for your help.”

She gives me a small smile in return. “He’s like a brother to me. There’s very little I wouldn’t do if it makes him happy. And you – you make him happy.”

My heart melts at her words, and Morgana saves me from any awkward emotional displays by getting up and raiding the snack table.

When I’m sure I couldn’t possibly have another bite of marshmallow, Magnus and Morgana move the driftwood seats back, and Rosie pulls us up to dance with her around the fire. I get lost in the pulse of the music, the volume so loud now that even yelling doesn’t carry over the beat.

Rosie twirls around the fire, looking completely unscathed by the flames that sometimes lick at her wings. More peach schnaps make their way around, and I’m just about positive almost everyone is drunk. To my credit, I only stumble a handful of times and manage not to land in the flames. I take turns dancing with all of them, spinning and waving our hands in the air as we make loop after loop around the fire.

Sweat coats my body from the heat, and I close my eyes, swaying my hips. A few breaths later, a pair of strong arms come around my waist, pulling me flush against a wall of solid muscle.

Smiling, I don’t even bother to open my eyes, already knowing exactly who’s holding me. Instead, I lean back into Sin, grinding back against him. His hands tighten before he spins me around to face him.

I open my eyes to look up at him, threading my arms around his neck as I continue to sway my hips to the beat. Sin’s eyes burn into mine, and the air between us feels charged as desire crackles between us.

I run my fingers through his hair, and Sin responds by pulling me closer and grinding against me. We dance like that for ages, lost in each other and not saying a word.

Finally, when I might keel over from thirst, I pull away from him, shocked to see that everyone else at the party has left. It’s just Sin and I on the beach.

I grin.

Why do I think that was an absolutely intentional move on their part?

Padding over to the snack table, I grab the small flask I stashed in a box of candy, downing most of it. I spot a tiny remote, half hidden under a chocolate bar wrapper, and lower the speaker’s volume so it’s only background noise.

Turning back to Sin, I find he hasn’t budged and is watching me intently. The shadows from the flames dance across him, making him look even fiercer than usual. My core tightens at the sight as I consider what we should do next.

I know exactly what I want to do.

There’s something about the whole ‘possibly my last night alive’ that does wonders for your confidence.

I want to have sex with Sin.

And from the way he’s been watching me tonight and the hardness that pressed against me while we danced, I think it’s fair to assume he wants me too.

Throwing him a wicked grin, I pad over to the water instead of returning to him. I can feel the heat from his gaze, tracking my every step.

My heart races over what I’m going to do next.

Realistically, if I die of embarrassment, it will just save Morgana the trouble.

So why not just go for it?

I shimmy out of my shorts and pull off my bralette.

Once those layers are shed, I turn to look at Sin, only to find he’s still frozen in place, watching me. I give him a beckoning smile as I unclasp my bra.

Sin’s eyes flare, his eyes glued to my body. “What are you doing, kitten?”

I grin. “I’ve never skinny-dipped before. This seems like a great time to try.”

My cheeks heat as I pull off my bra and turn away from him. Facing the water, I slowly peel off my thong before wading into the warm ocean waters.

“You shouldn’t be swimming right now,” Sin calls, his voice hoarse.

A trail of moonlight reflects off the waters, and I make sure to stick to the illuminated parts so Sin has a clear view of me. I don’t stop until I’m waist-deep and then turn to him.

“Well, then you’d better come and get me,” I sass back.

Sin’s jaw works like he’s trying to work through a difficult problem before he kneels and unlaces his boots. His eyes never leave mine as he undresses, save for when he pulls off his shirt.

My breath catches at seeing him naked. His tattoos extend over most of his body, highlighting his muscles. I’m struck once again by how much he reminds me of a warlord. He’s beautiful in a rugged, deadly way.

Another breath, and Sin stalks into the water, no doubt coming to fetch me. I respond by giggling and taking off swimming in the opposite direction. It’s an honest effort, and I think I make it about three strokes before Sin dives and surfaces directly in front of me.

I gasp, standing to try and kick off away from him, but the water here is deeper, and I don’t quite reach the bottom. Sin’s arms hook around me as I surface, sputtering.

When I’ve regained the ability to breathe like a normal person, I wrap my hands around his neck, grinning at him. His body is warm against mine, and feeling his length pressed up against me without clothing is going to drive me to distraction. “You’ve caught me. Now, what are you going to do with me?”

Sin’s expression is almost pained. “You’re drunk, kitten. I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”

My heart swells.

“We had peach schnapps at the party. I specifically requested the alcohol,” I say, grinning.

Sin sighs as he responds, “That’s wonderful, I’m glad you had fun.”

I purse my lips, trying not to laugh. “Sin?” I start, pulling myself up to press against him even more.

Sin groans in response, his hands tightening around me, stopping me from moving.

“Kitten,” he growls, “don’t.”

I smirk, loving that he’s reacting to me but ready to end his torture. My fingers play with the hair at the back of his neck. “My friends and I got super drunk on peach schnapps last summer. I got really sick and had a terrible hangover the next morning. It was horrid.”

Sin hums, his eyes focused on the water beyond us as he humors me.

I tug on his hair a bit, drawing his gaze back to me. I lick my lips before continuing, “I haven’t been able to drink peach schnapps ever since. The taste is completely off-putting to me.”

Sin frowns, his grip on me loosening as he processes my words. “Then what…”

I take the opportunity to pull myself higher so our faces are only an inch apart, and my forehead leans against his.

“I’m completely sober, Sin. I’ve been drinking water from a flask all night,” I whisper against his lips.

Sin’s eyes flare for just a second before his mouth claims mine. His lips are hot, and he wastes no time before his tongue pushes into my mouth, fucking my mouth. I kiss him just as passionately, tugging at his hair to draw him impossibly closer. Sin’s hands move from my waist to my ass, and he lifts me so that my core is pressed directly against his rigid cock.

I moan at the contact, wrapping my legs around him and rolling my hips to grind against him.

Sin growls at my movement, his fingers digging into me as he presses his thickness into my folds, the action pulling another moan from me.

Releasing my lips, Sin kisses a hot trail down my neck. “What do you want, kitten?” he asks before biting at the sensitive flesh.

“You,” I answer breathlessly. “All of you.”

Sin sucks at the bite mark, reddening it further before he murmurs, “Be specific.”

I whimper at the sensation and grind myself against him again, hoping that will get the message across. But Sin doesn’t budge, licking at my neck.

Groaning, I ignore the heat in my cheeks to grit out, “Sex, Sin. I want to have sex with you.”

Sin releases my neck, a low rumble sounding in his chest. “Fuck, I like those words coming out of your mouth.”

I remember how much he likes me begging and think to add, “Please, Sin?”

Sin groans, and I swear he grows even harder against me. He doesn’t move, his eyes locking on mine. “Last chance, kitten. If we do this, you’re mine. I won’t be able to let you go,” he warns.

My heart beats almost painfully in my chest, and the electric hum between us grows stronger. “I want you. You’re mine, Sin.”

Sin’s eyes darken, but still, he doesn’t move. “I’m fucking starved for you. I’m going to make you come until you can’t keep your eyes open. And even then, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. Is that what you want?” His voice is so low I feel it vibrating deep within me.

“Yes. Please, yes,” I answer, almost panting.

“Your safe word is pineapple, sweetheart. And if you can’t use your words, it’s two sharp taps against me, understood?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes.”

Sin smiles, but it’s full of dark promises and intent.

I respond by grinding against him, trying to angle his cock so he can slide into me.

He chuckles, the sound sinfully low, as he pulls me back, stopping my efforts. “Oh no, kitten. I’ve been thinking about fucking you almost non-stop. The first time I’m inside of you tonight, it won’t be in the ocean. It’s going to be in my bed, where you haunt my dreams. And it won’t be until after I’ve heard you scream my name.”

My breath catches just as Sin apparates us off the beach.

Chapter 44

Rule forty-four: Do not say pineapple.

We land in his room a breath later, with Sin still holding me against him. His balcony door is open, and moonlight streams into the room, illuminating the darkness.

Sin claims my mouth for another bruising kiss, only this time, he’s lost his usual control. The kiss is desperate, our teeth clashing as he walks us to his bed. He doesn’t stop until he has me on my back, lying over his blankets. He breaks our kiss to kiss a path down my neck but doesn’t stop at my collarbone. He continues lower, and I arch my back in response.

Sin’s mouth reaches my nipple, and he licks, teasing the sensitive peak. I start to pull at his hair, desperate for more, but Sin stops me. “Hands above your head, kitten. If they leave the headboard, I’m tying you up.”

More heat courses through me at his command, and I nod, resting them over my head.

Sin sucks my nipple into his mouth, eliciting a gasp from me before releasing it. “That’s my good girl. Let me use you.”

I moan, and Sin sucks on my nipple again, rolling it with his tongue until finally he bites hard. I scream, arching off the bed. My thighs clench around him even harder, the pain causing a jolt of pleasure that I feel right to my pussy.

Sin sucks the abused peak into his mouth before releasing it and placing more heated kisses along my stomach. My core tightens, desperate for his touch and needing more of him.

Once Sin reaches the spot directly over my clit, he pulls back just enough to grip my thighs, spreading me wide for him. His eyes rake over me, darkening further. “Fucking perfect.”

In one fluid motion, he bends my legs back towards me, pulling my hips up to his face. My ass leaves the ground, and I yelp at the sudden movement. But it morphs into a moan as Sin’s mouth descends onto my pussy. He licks a path from my entrance to my clit, before sucking it into his mouth. He groans, and my hands tangle into the pillowcase to stop myself from reaching for him.

I’m completely at his mercy like this. Sin devours me, sucking and teasing and drawing out more moans from me. He continues to hold me in place, feasting on me until my legs start to tremble, and I’m moments from coming undone. Only then does he release one of my thighs.

Sin’s tongue spears my slit just as he pushes two fingers inside of me. I groan, desperate for him not to stop, as Sin pumps inside of me. His fingers curl to hit my G-spot, and I feel my walls start to clamp down on his fingers just as he bites down on my clit.

I scream his name as an orgasm washes over me. My legs tremble even harder, but Sin only growls at the sound and doesn’t let up. He holds me against the bed as he continues to suck at my clit, and finger fuck me through my orgasm. I scream his name again, and Sin responds by adding another finger, stretching me further.

I moan at the stretching sensation, and Sin releases my clit, biting at my inner thigh as his hooded eyes find mine. “You’re fucking soaked. You’re taking my fingers so well. You’re such a fucking good girl.”

I whimper at his words, and Sin’s fingers fuck me harder, scissoring them inside of me as he prepares me for his cock. His gaze is heated as he watches me, pulling moan after moan from me until I’m so close to the edge again that I might combust. Once he has me screaming his name, he quickly withdraws his fingers and lowers my hips so that I’m in line with his cock.

He pauses there, the tip of his cock just grazing my center. “What do you want, kitten?”

My body is still teetering on the brink of my second orgasm, and it drives away any shyness I might have about vocalizing my desires. “You! Please, Sin. I’m yours. I’m yours.”

Sin growls, his hands tightening on my thighs as he thrusts inside of me in one fluid motion, bottoming out against me. “That’s right, you are. My kitten. My mate. Fucking mine.”

He punctuates each claim by slamming deep inside of me. A zap of electricity passes between us, lighting up every one of my nerve endings, and I gasp before Sin hooks an arm around my legs for leverage and starts fucking me at a bruising pace. His cock fills me to bursting, stretching me, and the blurring of pain and pleasure pushes me past breaking point.

I shatter against him, screaming his name over and over as Sin continues to fuck me through my orgasm, and still, he doesn’t relent. His thrusts grow even faster, and after the waves of my second orgasm pass, his fingers find my clit.

“One more, kitten. Give me one more,” he demands, rubbing fast circles against my sensitive nub.

My body reacts immediately, and I start to tighten around him, a third orgasm not far off.

“That’s it, kitten. Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans before angling my hips a little higher and hitting a spot so deep that I forget how to breathe.

He does it again and again, and my legs start shaking uncontrollably. My body is lost to him, to the pleasure as he fucks me impossibly harder. “Come for me,” he growls out and pinches my clit.

I scream his name, convulsing against him, my walls clamping down around his cock. Sin lets out a roar as he finds his own release, spilling his seed deep inside of me.

When the aftershocks of my orgasm finally pass, Sin sets me down gently, pulling me against him to kiss me soundly. Faint trickles of an electric current dance across my skin as his tongue duels with mine, and he groans, pulling me on top of him.

He breaks the kiss long enough to ask, “Okay, kitten?”

“God, yes,” I answer, my voice breathless.

His eyes darken, and I feel his chest vibrating against me as he growls at my response. The sound is equal parts pleased and possessive.

“Good. Because we’re just getting started,” he says, flipping us so I’m below him again, his already hard cock brushing against my entrance. His release drips out of me, and Sin pushes it back inside my center before slowly entering me. He fucks me slowly, each thrust grinding against my already-sensitive clit.

Sin’s mouth captures mine, and the kiss is sensuous. His tongue fucks mine at the same pace as his thrusts, staying torturously slow. I hold onto him like my life depends on it, craving the feel of his skin against mine. Only once he feels my walls starting to tighten around him does he release my mouth, pulling back enough to watch me.

“Please, Sin,” I beg. My body is coiled so tightly I might snap.

In response, Sin grips my neck, completely closing off my oxygen. “This is how it feels to be in the same room as you. I can’t fucking breathe, can’t fucking think straight, I’m so gone for you.”

He thrusts harder, and my mouth opens in a soundless moan. Sin watches me, his gaze locked in pure possessive fire. “You own my soul. My life is yours to do with as you please. You have no idea the power you wield over me.”

My eyes are saucers, and my brain feels fuzzy from not breathing.

Sin smiles darkly as he loosens his grip, just enough that I can suck in a life-giving breath before he tightens it again.

“Two taps, kitten,” he reminds me before abandoning his slow, torturous pace and fucking me hard. He slams into me, repeatedly bringing me to the brink where my consciousness grows fuzzy before letting me breathe again.

My screams are cut off, and my body feels like it’s completely coming apart. My core tightens impossibly further, and my legs wrap around him, desperate to never stop. His pace is punishing, and my body takes it all, silently begging for more. He brings me to the edge of my orgasm again, and he reaches between our bodies, rubbing at my clit. I tremble, utterly incapable of controlling my own movements. My brain is screaming for more oxygen, and instead of giving it to me, Sin’s grip tightens. The action throws me over the edge, and just as my orgasm is about to fully consume me, Sin releases my neck.

The oxygen hits me at the same time as my orgasm, and the pleasure only intensifies as I scream his name over and over again. Each wave feels like it crashes through me with the force of a tsunami until I’m boneless and shaking beneath him.

Sin slows his pace, leaning down to kiss me. His mouth teases mine, nibbling at my lower lip. I’m passive for a moment, regaining my breath, but soon, I reach around his neck to draw him closer, deepening the kiss. We lay like that, with Sin slowly fucking me, as we kiss each other until he starts teasing my nipples.

“More?” I ask breathlessly.

Sin’s eyes rake over me, still filled with desire, as he answers, “The night isn’t over. I’m not stopping unless you use your safe word or the sun comes up.”

I inhale sharply.

“You’re mine to use. Until you decide otherwise. And I’ve only just begun to make you scream, sweetness,” Sin promises, placing a heated kiss against my neck.

I arch into his touch just as Sin pulls out of me and flips me onto my stomach.

“Hands and knees, kitten,” he orders as he pulls my hips up.

I do as he says, and Sin runs his hand down my spine, pressing at the small of my back to push my ass out.

“So fucking beautiful.” His tone is reverent, and he slips a finger inside of me, coating it with our combined juices before spreading the moisture up to my ass. His other hand massages my cheeks, and slowly, he pushes his cock into my pussy, filling me.

Sin fucks me like that for a few beats, drawing out my moans at the new position before his thumb comes to my back hole, teasing me. I push back against him, loving the sensation, and Sin growls in satisfaction, pressing his thumb past my tight ring of muscle. I stiffen at the invasion, and he spits against his thumb, adding more lubrication.

“Have you had your ass fucked before?” he asks as he continues to grind his hard length into me.

I whimper at the sensation. “N-no.”

Sin groans at my answer, and his thumb pushes in a bit deeper. “Fuck I love that. I’m going to claim your ass. It might hurt a bit at first, but soon you’ll forget the pain, and you’re going to be screaming for more.”

His other hand wraps around me to play with my clit, and I moan, the pressure from his thumb combined with his cock making me feel completely full. But before I can revel in the feeling, he slowly pulls out his thumb, spitting on my ass, before replacing it with two fingers. These go in with less resistance, and soon, I’m pushing back against him, trying to get more of him, needing him to fill me more.

Sin pulls out of my pussy, and his fingers play with my clit and slide inside of me. But I don’t have time to protest at the loss of him because, in my next breath, his cock presses against my back hole, slowly filling me.

I gasp as he stretches me even further, and when I jerk at the slight pinch, Sin pulls back a bit and then pushes in again. His fingers in my pussy curl to hit my G-spot, and I pant at the feeling of my ass being so completely filled.

Sin continues his slow invasion until he’s fully seated inside of my ass. Releasing a satisfied groan, he stays there for a moment, letting me get used to him. My body trembles, craving more and needing him to move.

I decide to test the sensation, leaning forward so that he slips out of my ass a fraction before pushing back against him, letting him fill me completely again. I let out a moan at the sensation, and Sin matches it, his hand gripping my thigh.

“I have to take this slow. You need to get used to me, or it’s going to hurt,” he grits out.

I respond by rolling my hips so I can feel him move inside of me again.

Sin’s fingers dig into my thigh, and he pulls his fingers out of my pussy, causing me to whimper.

“I’m trying to be gentle, but so help me; if you do that, I’m going to fuck your ass into oblivion,” Sin growls.

My blood heats at his threat, and my body tightens, desperate for him to make good on it. I arch back into him, taking him even deeper inside of me.

“Fuck, I’m going to love ruining you,” Sin groans before his fingers plunge back into my pussy, and he pulls out of my ass, only to thrust back inside of me.

I scream.

The pressure of my ass being stretched around him blends with pleasure, and I can’t tell if I’m screaming from pain or pleasure. He does it again, and I scream again, a deep heat unfurling inside of my core. Sin’s free hand wraps around my hair, and he uses it as leverage as he starts slamming his cock into my ass repeatedly. He picks up the pace, and the sounds he pulls out of me become animalistic as I get lost to the primal pleasure.

“Fuck, yes, kitten. You’re taking me so well,” Sin praises as his thrusts hit a bruising pace.

“Your pussy, your ass, and your body, they’re mine to claim. Your pleasure is mine to take. Understood?” he growls out.

I don’t answer him, and Sin pulls his hand from my pussy to slap my ass hard.

“Who owns your pleasure?” he demands, slapping my ass again.

“Yours! It’s all yours, Sin,” I scream.

The sharp sting of his slap drives me further to my orgasm, and my legs start to shake beneath me.

“That’s right, kitten. Fucking, Mine.”

My legs tremble even harder, and Sin slaps my pussy, just as he drives into me. The action sets me over the edge, and my arms and legs give out as the orgasm sweeps through me. Sin releases my hair to hold up my hips as he continues to pound into me again and again until finally letting out a loud groan as he comes inside my ass.

He collapses on top of me but still manages to hold his weight so he doesn’t crush me. We lay there, panting, until finally, Sin slowly pulls out of my ass, eliciting a low moan from me.

Sin chuckles, rolling to his side and pulling my back flush against him. His warmth envelops me, and he nuzzles against the top of my hair, whispering soothing words that cause more electricity to dance across my skin. “You are my universe now. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t care. You’re still mine.”

Only once my breathing slows to normal does Sin stand, lifting me into his arms and walking us into his bathroom. He sets me down on the vanity before going to the shower and turning on the water.

I stay seated, content to watch him. I’m not sure my legs could hold me right now, even if I tried to stand. My heart thumps painfully in my chest as Sin tests the water and turns back to me, his gaze adoring. I swallow at the emotions building inside of me, and Sin is gentle as he lifts me off the vanity and walks us into the shower.

He stands with me cradled in his arms, the hot water pouring over us. Sin’s eyes never leave mine, and he watches me like he’s trying to peer into my very soul. The words I want to say to him get stuck in my throat.

I’m his, and he’s mine, eternally. While I don’t know the full repercussions of what that means, I have absolutely no regrets. A warm feeling hums within me, and it’s answered by more of the electric current that trickles between Sin’s body and mine.

I open my mouth to ask Sin what the energy is, only to watch as threads of my own silvery energy reach out to him, gliding along his skin. The wisps crackle as they tangle with the electric pulses, and I can’t look away, watching them dance together.

“It’s our souls knitting themselves together,” Sin says, answering my question before I even ask it.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, feeling their static warmth as the combined threads settle against me, whispering against my skin.

“There is no longer a day where our souls exist alone. Nothing, no magic, no realm, not even death, can separate us. We will always find each other.” Sin’s whisper is reverent, and he gives me a soft kiss.

He washes me with a tenderness I’ve never experienced before. With each of his touches, more pulses of the electric energy of our souls dance across my skin. After he’s completely cleaned me, Sin reaches for the soap again to wash himself, but I take it from him, determined to give him the same intimacy.

Almost immediately, he grows hard again at my touch, his erection pressing against my stomach. When it’s time to clean his lower half, I kneel before him and look up at him through my lashes. His eyes darken at the sight, and he reaches for the top wall of the shower, gripping it tightly. Sin mutters curses under his breath, growing harder with every touch.

Once he’s rinsed off, he reaches to pull me back up, but instead of complying, I take him into my mouth.

“Fuck, kitten,” Sin groans.

I respond by taking him deeper, only stopping when he hits the back of my throat. When I feel him shudder, I do it again. Sin’s hands come to my hair as he starts thrusting, angling my head so he can slide down my throat. I moan against him, and he groans at the vibrations, picking up his pace. He fucks my throat raw until he comes, spilling down my throat.

“You are so fucking stunning,” he growls, hooking his hands under my hips and lifting me so my back is pressed against the tile wall. My pussy is level with his face in this position, and he devours me, making me come against his tongue.

Once he has my thighs trembling and clamping against his face, he slides me down the shower wall, wrapping my legs around him, and thrusts inside of me. I have no strength left to hold onto him, but he keeps me pinned there, fucking me at a punishing pace as if trying to quench an insatiable need. His movements are uncontrolled as he pushes us over the edge and into oblivion.

By the time he’s toweled me off and placed me back in his bed, I’m too exhausted to keep my eyes open, and drift off to sleep.

He wakes me three more times through the night.

The first, I awaken to his face between my thighs, sucking at my clit as his fingers rub up at my G-spot. He doesn’t stop until I come and then holds me, whispering that he will never have enough of me as I fall back into a dreamless sleep.

The second time, I wake on top of him, my stomach flush against his as he lifts my hips to drive himself inside of me. When my eyes flutter open, I moan, sitting up to straddle him.

Sin’s hands release my hips as he murmurs, “That’s it, kitten, ride my cock until you come. I want to watch you take what’s yours.”

I bounce on his cock, my eyes widening at the new angle, and Sin takes my hand, bringing it to my pussy. “Touch yourself. Take your pleasure.”

My fingers swirl around my clit, and I grind my hips against him. Only when Sin feels my body start to tremble, do his hands come back to my hips, as he takes over thrusting, fucking me hard until we both go over the edge together, screaming.

Finally, as a hint of the sun’s golden rays start to peek over the horizon, I wake to Sin’s cock buried in my ass. I’m spooned into him, and Sin’s hands are wrapped around me, with one hand teasing my nipple and the other circling my clit.

He draws out my low moans, only picking up the pace when I turn to claim his mouth for a scorching kiss. Then, his thrusts become punishing as his fingers slip inside my pussy, and he makes me scream his name repeatedly until I come on his cock. My orgasm triggers Sin’s, and he bites my neck as he comes inside of me.

I have vague moments of semi-lucidity when Sin carries me back to the shower and cleans us again before we curl back into bed.

I’m too tired to move or speak. But despite the exhaustion, as Sin’s warmth envelops me and I fade away into oblivion yet again, I only have one thought.

I’ve never felt more cherished.

Chapter 45

Rule forty-five: Save as many as you can.

I wake up to Sin’s body cocooning mine, and I’m nestled into his arms, enveloped by his heat and the smell of woodsmoke. My eyes flutter as I look up at him, only to find he’s already awake, watching me.

Last night was intense. Perfect, but intense. I made some sounds I didn’t think could come out of me, and the thought has my cheeks flaming.

“Good morning,” I whisper.

Sin smirks at my tone, before leaning in to kiss me soundly. It takes only a second before I kiss him back, and the kiss grows more carnal. He claims my mouth until I start to move restlessly against him, craving more, before he pulls away.

He takes in my flushed cheeks and aroused expression before smirking again. “Good morning.”

My heart thumps inside my chest, and the now familiar feeling of warm electricity tingles across my back, reminding me that our souls are now knit together.

“Last night…” I start.

“Wasn’t nearly enough,” he notes gruffly, bending to kiss my collarbone.

I bite back my smile. “That too.”

He kisses me again, and I pull his face to refocus his attention. “You said our souls knitted together.”

His gaze drifts longingly over my body before he props himself up beside me. “That’s what happens when you complete a mate bond. The action merges your souls, binding them as one.”

His fingers ghost along my waist like he can’t help but touch me, and I warm further. “So that we can find each other?” I ask.

“Amongst other things,” he notes lazily as his fingers drift lower, and my breath catches in my throat.

“Want to elaborate on that?” My legs fall open as his fingers move to my pussy. I’m not sure I’ll even be able to walk properly today, but my driving need for this man overrides any soreness.

“It’s different between mated pairs, depending on how their souls and energies combine. Fae bonds typically involve being able to sense each other’s emotions. Irena is the only other mated Destroyer, and the bond she built with Rosie allows them to pass memories between each other,” he answers, his fingers brushing gentle circles over my clit, drawing out my whimpers.

“And now you built a mate bond between us?” I ask, just making one thousand percent sure that I didn’t miss something. To make sure he’s truly mine.

Sin hums, lowering himself down my body. “I warned you, kitten. The moment you gave yourself to me fully, I wouldn’t be able to let you go. We are mated. You’re mine.”

His tongue drags against my pussy, drawing out a moan from me. “If you’re having second thoughts…” he adds, his eyes darkening as they fix on mine, “I’d be happy to fuck them out of you,” he notes, finishing in a low growl before thrusting his tongue inside of me.

“No second-guessing,” I gasp. “Just clarifying. But you should probably fuck me anyway, just in case.”

Raw hunger crosses his face like we didn’t just spend the night having sex, and he flips me onto my stomach. He pulls me to the edge of the bed and stands, lifting my hips until his cock is at my entrance. He thrusts into me hard, bottoming out against me and hitting my G-spot. I open my mouth to scream, but his fingers are there, driving into my mouth, gagging me. I suck on them as he sets a punishing pace.

“I want to be inside of you, every fucking moment of the day. And if I can’t be, then I want to be dripping down your thighs every time I’m not fucking you,” Sin growls.

His thrusts grow more erratic, and I’m already trembling against him. When my pussy starts to flutter around him, he releases my mouth, fisting my hair to drive into me even harder.

“Yes! Please, yes, Sin. I’m yours. Take me, please. I’m yours.” I beg through my screams, and Sin’s thrusts become harder, fucking me punishingly before he groans, and I feel his warm seed spilling inside of me. His release triggers my own, and we both grind harder against each other, trembling until the waves of pleasure have passed.

Sin takes a shuddering breath, his hands cupping my ass, massaging it while he’s still buried deep within me. “You are so fucking beautiful. You’re fucking perfect, kitten,” he whispers the words, and I feel his cock twitch, starting to get hard again.

“Perfect is a strong word. I’m pretty sure I drive you crazy,” I say as I crawl forward on the bed, effectively pulling him out. I look over my shoulder at him, smiling, only to find his gaze locked on my ass. Pursing my lips, I turn, sitting on my knees.

Sin’s eyes finally flick back to my own. “You do drive me crazy. That doesn’t make you less perfect for me.”

I lick my lips at his answer, and Sin’s eyes fix on the gesture, flaring for a moment before stalking towards me on the bed. Giggling, I scramble back. “Sin, at some point, we’re going to need to leave your room.”

Sin reaches the center of the bed, and I dash off it. His answering smile is dark and predatory as he tracks my movement. “Go ahead, kitten, make my day and make me chase you.”

My heart thunders in anticipation. Sin is insatiable when it comes to my body, and I love it. I back up to his door, turning the knob and taking a second to peek in the hall, finding it empty. Sin is still on the bed, watching me, and I smile sweetly at him before sticking out my tongue and dashing back into my own room.

I barely make it inside before Sin apparates in front of me, slamming me back into my door, his mouth claiming mine in a wild and uncontrolled kiss. When he finally pulls away from me, I let reality inch back into our lives.

“We should get dressed, I’m sure the team is waiting on us. After all, today is…” I stop at the dark look that crosses Sin’s face.

“Please. Please don’t do this,” he whispers, his eyes pleading.

I swallow. Why does the thought of dying hurt more today?

I cup his cheek. “I need to do this, Sin. I need to be free.”

He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me not to use my influence to change your mind right now? The idea of losing you is enough to make me want to un-exist the entire Otherworld Realm because that’s better than risking your life. I am holding on by a fucking thread.”

My throat feels tight, and I blink back tears. “You won’t lose me. I’ll come back to you.”

He shudders against me but says nothing.

“I won’t be long,” I say softly, and my heart shatters at the broken look in Sin’s eyes.

He apparates out of the room without another word, and the second I’m alone, I let myself sink down against the door, curling my arms around my knees.

This is it. Morgana is going to kill me today.

I wonder if it will hurt. Death seems like a pretty painful experience.

I’d rather not get stabbed or choked to death. Especially the latter. Assuming I do come back, I’d rather not picture dying if Sin chokes me the next time we’re together.

At the thought of Sin, my tears start to fall freely. I’m hurting him, and it’s killing me to do it. I love him. So much it consumes me, and while I have no regrets over sealing our mate bond, I can’t help but feel guilty about doing it right before I die. That thought only has me spiralling harder.

I cry because I’m going to die today, and I’m scared. I cry because if I don’t come back, my friends, both here and in the Mortal Realm, will be crushed to lose me. I cry because I turned out not to be broken and finally found a way to love someone, even though Sin will likely never love me back.

The wording of the prophecy is all too clear to me. I will be the one doing the loving. Not the powerful creatures. Leon never loved Cassandra. He loved a lie. It seems logical to assume that Sin won’t love me back, either. But whatever we have now, it’s more than enough. It’s more than I ever deserved.

I don’t move until I finally feel like I’ve gotten enough of my emotions out to face the others. If I get the crying out now, I can put on a brave mask. I refuse to break down or show any reluctance in front of the others. That will only make them more upset, and I can’t do that to them.

After freshening up in the bathroom, I pad over to my dresser. My breaths are back to normal, and I’ve shoved down the fear and the guilt.

I’m functional again and ready to take on my problems.

First up, what does one wear on their last day alive?

My eyes catch the tight gray dress folded neatly in my bottom drawer. I can’t look at it without shuddering since it reminds me of Leon. The mere thought of him touching me has my skin crawling.

It sounds like the perfect thing to die in. Why spoil other clothing?

I’m just pulling the last strands of my hair into a French braid when Sin apparates into the room. He looks like he’s about to speak but stops short when he takes in what I’m wearing.

“Fuck, kitten, you…” he starts.

“I hate this dress,” I interrupt, frowning.

He looks me up and down. “I would be more than happy to remove it for you. Preferably while you sit on my face.”

I laugh. “I wore this with Leon. It has bad memories for me. I figured I may as well spoil it further.”

Sin stalks towards me, all predatory intent. “When you come back to me, kitten. And you will come back. We are going to burn this dress, and I’m going to fuck you in front of the flames.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach as his hand comes around the back of my neck, and he pulls me in for a steaming kiss. When his lips release mine, he adds, “And after that, we are buying you more of these. One in every color.”

I giggle, warmth spreading throughout my body. “That sounds perfect. Now let’s go find the others so I don’t need to wear this any longer than necessary.”

Sin and I head over to the dining room, hand in hand. The butterflies in my stomach show no signs of slowing. It’s almost enough to make me forget that I’m going to die today.

When we enter the dining room, we find Rosie, Magnus, and Arianna seated and having lunch. At the sight of us, they burst into applause, catcalling and hollering. My cheeks heat, and I wonder how they could possibly know what Sin and I got up to last night.

Arianna grins at me. “In case you guys are missing them, we picked up your clothes off the beach this morning when we cleaned up from the party.”

Sin laughs, and I groan as he pulls me over to the table. He doesn’t let go of me, taking me to his seat and settling me on his lap.

I might feel more mortified if he wasn’t looking at me with such heated tenderness. I smile at the others. “Thank you for getting our things. We appreciate it.”

There.

No hiding, no feeling embarrassed.

Arianna wrinkles her nose at me and Sin. “I love you both, but gross.”

Magnus stands to clap Sin on the back, and Rosie is beaming, telling us how happy she is for us.

Sin pours me some coffee while I chat with the others about the party, and I sip at it, letting the contentedness linger a while.

I manage to eat a chocolate croissant, even though I was sure I’d be too nervous to eat. Sin holds on to me the entire time, his hand running up and down my back in a soothing motion. My pulse flutters and I steal glances at him, always finding his eyes on me.

When the others have eaten, I finally ask the question I’ve been holding on to since my cry session. “Do you have any poison here? The kind that will put you to sleep, and you die painlessly? I know Morgana agreed to kill me, but I’m just hoping we can find a pain-free route to do it.”

Sin’s fingers tighten against my thigh and his tattoos flare, but he says nothing.

Arianna and Magnus look at a loss.

“I could scan the markets…” Magnus starts.

But Rosie’s whisper stops him. “I do.”

All eyes turn to her, and Rosie looks like she might wither under the attention. “There’s a flower in the garden. It only blooms under the light of the moon. But if you harvest it when it’s blooming and brew it into a tea, just a few sips will kill you.”

Magnus gapes at her. “Rosie, why in the Fates do you have such a thing? Are you growing more poisons?”

Arianna lifts her hand to give Rosie a high five. “Way to grow a useful plant, Rosie.”

Rosie gives a slight shrug. “It was a gift from Irena. She touched the seeds when she gifted them to me. I’ve been cultivating the vines ever since.”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you, Rosie,” I say, and she smiles at me.

“You’ll have to wait until tonight, but then…”

She’s interrupted by Morgana entering the room. Her face is ashen like someone has died. Sin immediately goes rigid. “What is it?” he demands.

Her eyes find mine, and my heart sinks.

This can’t be good.

“There’s been a breach in our wards. Someone has weaved in a curse, and I think it’s set to demolish the rest of them. The Council must be using it to help them invade. Vivian, I’m sorry to say, but your death is going to need to wait until we fix this,” Morgana says. There’s fear in her voice, and Sin immediately stands, holding me to him.

“I’ll go remove the curse and fix any damage to the wards. Where is it located?” he asks, his grip on me tightening.

“The Eastern Coast, close to where we had the emissary party. I believe someone in attendance is betraying us,” Morgana answers.

“Sit tight, kitten. This won’t take long.” Sin smiles at me reassuringly before kissing me soundly and apparating out of the room.

The moment he’s gone, I turn to ask Morgana what this means when she levels her eyes on me, looking even more afraid than before.

“That will take him at least an hour to sort out. I’ve bought you as much time as I can,” she says, and I don’t miss the slight waver in her tone.

I frown. “What are you talking about? The wards –”

“I’m the one who messed with them. It was the only thing I could think of to get him out of here long enough for you to decide. I received a message from Need this morning. She says we must return you to their care. You have just under an hour left to get to them. The handoff will be at the beach where you freed Leon. They have your friends, Vivian. Need has Conner, Isaac and Sarah. If you don’t go, she’ll kill them,” Morgana answers, gripping the table.

All the blood drains from my face.

No, this can’t be happening.

Morgana swallows, “That’s not all. Need is demanding we return you as a mortal and notes that if anything is to happen to her or Leon, she has mages stationed around your realm to kill as many mortals as possible.”

My hands shake, and my vision starts to darken at the edges.

Need has my friends. I tried so hard to keep them safe, to stay away. But Leon must have told Need about them so they’d have a bargaining chip.

“This is clearly a trap! There’s no way we’re going along with this,” Arianna yells as she stands from the table, a black mass of darkness swimming under her feet.

Magnus agrees, “Need is bluffing. She’s already under scrutiny from the other Council members about her reckless use of power.”

I focus on Morgana, who still looks stricken. “Is she capable of this? Of killing my friends or murdering countless innocent mortals?”

Morgana worked alongside Need for millennia. I trust her judgement on this.

“Yes,” she whispers. “She’s absolutely capable of it. Especially since Vivian is an uncollared Creator. She cannot risk Vivian coming into full power while in our hands.”

Knowing the decision has been made, I nod, and Morgana gives me a grim look before heading to her chair.

Rosie chimes in next, “How do we know for sure she even has Vivian’s friends. Maybe she’s lying.”

But Morgana shakes her head. “I already looked. All three were absent from their classes today. They’ve plastered their phone numbers around campus with posters looking for you, Vivian. None of the phone numbers were answered.”

My heart feels like it’s shattering at her words. My poor friends have been worried sick for me. I stayed away, thinking I would keep them safe, and in doing so, I’ve only managed to hurt them more.

I choke back a sob.

“So, what’s the plan then? How do we get back Vivian’s friends without handing her over to the Council?” Magnus asks.

Morgana and I lock eyes, and I know we’re on the same page.

“We don’t,” I answer. “That’s why she distracted Sin.”

“The only way we can save her friends is to make the trade,” Morgana continues. “You and Sin, you’re bonded now. Aren’t you?”

My heart thumps, and it’s almost painful. “Yes.”

“If he comes back before the handoff, he will murder Leon and Need before they ever lay a hand on you,” she warns. “He will start this war and end it before ever risking you. But in doing so, he will turn the other realms against us, and that will lead to the loss of millions of lives.” Her words are strained like she is fighting with herself from speaking them into existence.

“I won’t let that happen,” I whisper, letting out a shuddering breath.

Arianna’s corner of the table is growing darker and darker. “Vivi – I’m begging you. Don’t do this. You have no idea what these people are capable of. What they’ll do to you if you don’t follow their whims. They will break you, shatter you, only to bring you back and do it again, more painfully, every time. You don’t come out of there whole. Even if we get you out, you won’t be you anymore. Trust me.”

More darkness pours from her hands, and I stand to hug her. She clings to me, shaking.

“The Guardians tried to break me. The things you experienced – Cassandra did, too. But she got out, and I will, too. They can break us all they want. We will always rise from the shattered pieces.” I squeeze her tightly before pulling away to look her in the eye. “We come back stronger, Ari. Always.”

Her lip quivers, and she nods. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

I don’t focus on how sour the lie tastes as I turn to the rest of the table. “I’m going to get dressed. We’re doing the handoff. I refuse to sacrifice my friends.”

I don’t wait for more argument. I just leave.

I hurry to pull on my fighting leathers. Corrupted bond or not, I’m going in armed. My thoughts drift over to possible avenues of escape until the crushing realization hits.

If I leave, Need can just pull more hostages from my realm. She knows how to get to me now.

I swallow thickly.

I’m not getting out of that castle unless it’s crumbling behind me.

I touch the necklace Sin gave me, and my hands shake as I pull it off. I don’t want Leon to get his hands on it. It’s precious to me.

Oh god, Sin.

He’s going to be devastated. Not only that, but he might just go ballistic enough to use his Destroyer powers and murder the Council. My pulse races, knowing I have no time, but I run to the cloak I took on my first day here, digging into the pocket and pulling out the notebook. I scrawl out my note, unable to stop the tears streaming down my eyes.

Sin,

By the time you see this, I’ll already be gone. Need has my mortal friends, and I can’t let her kill them. I’m going willingly. I’m so sorry for leaving this way.

They won’t hurt me, not when they need me. Please don’t come for me, not when this is the only way to keep everyone safe.

I love you. I wish I could have told you in person.

I’m yours, and I love you. Always.

Your Kitten

I leave the note on the table next to his bed, laying the necklace he gave me on top of it before finding the others. They’re all waiting in the sitting room for me, looking sombre.

“Who’s taking me there?” I ask, not wanting to waste another second.

“Me,” Arianna and Morgana answer at once. They turn to each other, surprised.

“The second Need sees you, she will murder you, just so Sin is out of a Keeper,” Arianna snaps.

“And the second Sin returns home today and finds that Vivian was handed back to the Council, he will MURDER whoever did it,” Morgana snaps back. “With the Keeper bond, I have the best chance of coming out of this alive.”

Magnus distracts me by handing me a small comb. It’s the enchanted one that I’d joked was Fae birth control when I first saw him here. His gaze locks on mine. “Just in case, my little enigma. Until we win this war, and you return to us.”

I smile softly at him and nod, not trusting my voice. I tuck it into one of my pockets and try not to focus on if I’ll ever see him again. Our allies are waiting to see who I’m aligned with. If the Council has me, then I don’t think there will be much of a war.

He hugs me, and I turn to Rosie, who is fighting back tears. She pulls me into a hug, both of us shaking, but neither saying a word.

When she releases me, I step back, looking at Morgana and Arianna. “Well, who’s it going to be?”

“I’m taking you,” Arianna notes.

“I’ll wait here for Sin,” Morgana adds.

Every motion feels like it’s slowing as I nod at Morgana. Arianna takes my hand, squeezing it tightly, and I look at my new friends one more time.

“Thank you, for everything,” I whisper.

And then we’re gone.

Chapter 46

Rule forty-six: Never give in.

I’m too overtaken with dread to feel any pleasure at being back in my old home. The cool Atlantic breeze whips at the tendrils of hair that have snaked loose from my braid, and my fighting leathers aren’t nearly warm enough to stop the frigid air. Or maybe that’s just me. I haven’t stopped having cold chills since Morgana sent away Sin.

Arianna and I wait on the beach, just below the surf shack. I tried to convince Arianna to return to the Shadow Realm after we arrived, and she plunged the beach into darkness in response.

It feels like a lifetime since I was here, tentatively hoping I wouldn’t fail miserably at surfing. I can barely recognize that girl, even though I know it’s only been a few weeks. I guess learning magic is real, being controlled by a corrupt magical government, and regaining all your memories from a past life will do that for you.

Or maybe the years of guided meditations finally kicked in, and this is me finding enlightenment.

Who knows?

We wait silently, each of us lost in our thoughts and listening for any possible sound. My hands rest on the hilts of my daggers, ready to spring at any sign of danger.

Need said she wants only me, but I’m not putting it past her to try something else.

We’re on edge.

We wait for a painstaking ten minutes before they come. Need, Leon and Rydon apparate before us. Need has Sarah bound before her, and Rydon drops an unconscious Conner while holding Isaac at knifepoint.

The bond flares to life and a sharp burst of heat spears through me. I gasp but stay standing. Arianna notices and links her arm with mine.

“What did you do to him?” I accuse, trying to see if Conner is okay.

Rydon rolls his eyes. “That one speaks too much. We knocked him out to shut him up.”

Sarah screams at seeing me, “Oh my god! Vivian! I’m so happy you’re okay!”

“Christ, Vivian. We’ve been terrified for you,” Isaac adds.

My heart swells. My friends have literally been kidnapped, and they’ve probably just learned magic is real, all because of me. But instead of being angry, they’re concerned.

Rydon slaps Isaac over the head, ordering him to shut up and Need places a hand on Sarah’s head before ordering her to sleep. Sarah collapses to the ground in a heap.

I swallow, knowing they’re ready to make the exchange. Small tendrils of fog lick at the corners of my mind. I don’t have long.

“Vivian, it’s time to end this charade. You are my fated. We have loved each other for millennia. You’re fighting an impossible battle. You can’t fight fate. You are mine,” Leon orders, not moving from beside Need.

It feels like the air is crackling from the tension until I realize it’s the energy from the mate bond buzzing against me. If there was any way to tell that Sin realized I’ve left, I’m guessing this is it.

We need to hurry.

“Leon, I remember everything. You loved a lie. Cassandra was never who you thought she was. I’m sorry she deceived you, but this love you are clinging to – it isn’t real. It never was.”

Leon’s eyes narrow, and he looks murderous as he steps forward. His tattoos start to glow a faint blue.

He did not like hearing that.

Leon’s words are less controlled now, and he’s back to being the bitter, controlling person who left me back in a world of pain at his castle. “You’re lying! Still lying all the time!” he yells out. But then he pauses, his expression darkening as he continues in a more sinister tone, “But don’t worry, I’ll cleanse you of those habits very soon, even if I need to control every facet of your soul to make it happen.”

A bolt of heat sears through the bond again, and I go lightheaded at the pain. More fog trickles into my brain, making it more difficult to think. Arianna’s arm circles me fully, helping to hold me steady.

Leon takes another step for me, exploding in anger, “Get your fucking filthy hands off her! She is not yours to touch!”

More pain pulses through the corrupted bond, and my knees feel weak. Still, I manage to choke out a whisper, “I’m not yours.”

My words redirect Leon’s anger back to me, and he pauses. His glare bites into me, and he looks deadly. “What the fuck did you just say?”

I smile through the pain, feeling amazing to finally be able to say it, even if the bond feels like a hot poker is being lodged into my soul.

“I said,” I start, standing up of my own accord to face him. “I’m. Not. Yours.”

More electricity dances across my skin, the humming growing stronger, and my skin heats.

Leon steps forward again, reaching to grab me, but just as he moves, the ground below him starts to shake. Arianna’s eyes have gone onyx, completely opaque in their darkness, and she pulls every thread of darkness around us, wrapping them around Leon, Need and Rydon.

“I will not hesitate to pull the very air from your lungs,” she threatens, her tone low and ferocious.

Need answers, sounding annoyed but not afraid, “That’s enough. Vivian, unless you want mortals around your realm to be slaughtered, you will obey, and your dark one will retract her powers immediately.”

Arianna pulls back her power just a fraction, only to find Rydon eying her hungrily as he digs the tip of his dagger into Isaac’s neck, making him yell in pain.

“Okay! Okay. We’re listening,” I answer quickly, and Arianna completely dissipates the darkness.

Need looks on smugly, already aware she holds all the cards. “Release Leon from his collar. We’re taking you back to the Council’s castle. So long as you go willingly and no one from the Shadow Realm tries to stop us, the mortals will remain unharmed. We want peace, Vivian. Don’t force our hand.”

My stomach sours, and I glare at Leon as I step towards him. The bond starts to hum at our closeness, but I fight against it, using the pain to fuel my rage and push back the fog. The hum of electricity on my skin grows louder, to the point where I think the others may hear it, too.

I can feel it now, a pull deep within me.

Sin is coming for me.

Leon’s gaze reflects my fury as he watches me raise my left hand to his neck. The blue key appears in my hand as the energetic collar imbued into Leon materializes. I don’t let myself breathe as I click the key into place.

The collar dissipates, and I move to step away, but Leon is faster. His hand darts out, and he grabs my hair, spinning me so my back is pressed against him.

That’s when I see him.

Sin apparates onto the beach, a few feet in front of me. I gasp, and Leon’s grip tightens as he pulls me tighter against him, yanking back at my hair with enough force to make tears come to my eyes.

Sin’s tattoos glow brightly, his rage simmering just beneath his skin.

Leon’s other hand comes to my cheek, stroking it, and the bond sends a bolt of pleasure through me at the contact.

I want to gag.

A tear rolls down my cheek as I take in Sin for what may be the last time. He stands rigid, his chest heaving as he watches. His hands are fisted, and I notice the small paper he clutches in one hand.

My note.

He gives me the barest shake of his head, silently begging me not to do this, and I feel my heart shatter. More tears come, and I mouth, ‘I’m sorry.’ But our silent exchange is quickly interrupted.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, touching what doesn’t belong to you,” Leon growls, and I realize he can clearly see the marks Sin left on my skin. “She was promised to me by Destiny itself. SHE IS MINE!” He pulls on my hair some more, punctuating each word.

I grit my teeth, refusing to go under the force of the bond. Not in front of Sin. I won’t do that to him.

“I AM NOT!” I yell, willing him to understand the simple words.

Leon responds to my claim by once again running his fingers down my cheeks and brushing away my tears in a tender motion. He kisses me just above my ear before he whispers, “Stupid girl – I own you for eternity.”

With those words, he wrenches my neck hard to the left.

I distantly hear Sin scream ‘Vivian,’ but the sound is garbled at the sharp sting in my neck and the warmth that blossoms out from it.

And then, all sounds fade as my mortal life is ended.

THE END

Hate cliffhangers? Me too! Keep reading for a sneak peek at Freedom’s Fury, book three in the Broken Souls Trilogy.

Sneak Peek – Freedom’s Fury

Leon’s Point of View

Ican finally breathe easily now that I have Vivian back where she belongs. These last few weeks have been torture, wondering what Sin might be doing to her. He’s been controlling her mind, poisoning her against me.

When I saw her run from me in the maze and then defy me again in the Underworld, a fury I had never felt before settled within me. The darkness lingers just below the surface.

Vivian has a rebellious streak. Something I will have to break her of.

I should have anticipated the lengths she would go to. I’ve always known she wasn’t capable of making good choices.

She fought our bond almost every step of the way, insisting she wanted to know if our love was real or just a by-product of the magic pulling us together.

I smile, not afraid to admit when I’m wrong. I worried that losing the bond would shatter us. But now I know the truth. Losing the bond changes nothing. I am woven into the very fabric of her soul.

There is no escaping us. Vivian is my destiny.

She will accept me, whether she wants to or not.

She lies before me, peacefully asleep in my bed, as the magic fully takes root inside of her. She will be a beautiful Creator.

The golden wisps of energy play over her skin, fixing her.

Gone are the marks left by Sin. Gone are her ugly scars.

All that remains is divine perfection.

She will settle into her role.

My eyes hover over the golden collar, already imbued into her neck.

She will have no choice.

I run my fingers through her silky hair, admiring the small white flowers the slaves braided into it. It’s a lovely touch.

I had them dress her in an exquisite white gown made from the finest silks. The color of innocence and purity.

Perfect for my bride.

About the Author

Melody is an obsessive overachiever. When she isn’t caring for her three young children, she’s writing books, working on her PhD, or binge-reading books.

When the warmer weather sets in, she likes to plant fields of flowers and adopt more animals for her hobby farm.

Melody writes because she can’t afford her book addiction.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, thank you so much to my husband and family. Your support means the absolute world to me. Thank you to my mom for being my alpha reader (yeah – it was weird for both of us when you started). Being able to send you my chapters as I write them, to always be met with your enthusiasm keeps me writing.

Thank you so much to my beta readers, Jo and Tanya. Waking up to your messages and seeing the 1AM timestamp does wonders for my imposter syndrome. Thank you for loving my characters, and for all the feedback you provide.

A huge thank you to the Broken Souls Fanclub – you guys uplift and motivate me so much. Especially Cass – I always appreciate your eye for details!

Thank you to all my ARC readers! Seriously, Creation’s Captive blew up because of you. Your feedback made me believe that people might want to read my books one day.

I’m also so thankful to everyone on Booktok and Bookstagram. You guys bring a smile to my face every day!

Finally, thank you so much to all my readers. Thank you for taking a chance on my books. Your messages, enthusiasm and comments make me sob (happy tears) every time.