“I don’twantit,” she whispered. “I don’t want any of this. I didn’t ask to be powerful or rare or important. I just wanted to get out of the orphanage, out of the city.” Her voice cracked. “Just wanted to be free.”
“I will teach you to use your magic. You’ll be powerful, Cleo. Rich. You’ll never go to bed hungry again, I swear it.”
She was shaking her head in denial. “I didn’t ask to belong to some… terrifying Death Mage who thinks he’s entitled to my soul.”
I said nothing. Her soul, her heart, her body. All mine. I would not deny it.
Her eyes lifted, defiant even through the shimmer of unshed tears. “I would rather belong to a bloodthirsty vampire. A flea-infested werewolf. Even a Void-damned swamp Orc.Anythingbut one of you.”
My jaw clenched.
That stung. More than I wanted to admit.
The shadows inside me stirred. Hungry. Cold. But I held them back.
I stood slowly and pulled her to her feet before me. “Neither of us has a choice.”
Her brows knit. “I don’t believe that.”
“You will.” I kissed her. Not gentle. Not soft. Butreal.The moment our lips met, the world ignited.
I slid my hands into her hair. Her breath caught.
Magic burst between us, wild and uncontrollable—like fire leaping onto dry tinder, searing hot and white-gold at the edges.
She gasped, but didn’t pull away. Her body pressed into mine, and I felt every curve and hollow. Her fear. Her desire. Rebellion. Denial. Underneath it all—recognition.
This wasn’t a spell. This wasn’t a curse. It wasfate.
Her hands curled in my cloak. My fingers tightened in her hair. I wanted to devour her. Bury myself in her warmth and light. Sear her soul into mine so deeply nothing—not even the Veil—could tear us apart.
But she pulled back. Breathing hard. Eyes wide. Pulse fluttering at the base of her neck.
“I don’t want this,” she whispered. “I don’t want to marry a Death Mage.”
“I know. But I can’t let you go.” I traced her bottom lip with my thumb and fought for control. “If I did, Jarrick, or another, would find you and try to claim you. Once word of your existence surfaces, assassins will rise like shadows to hunt you. I will protect you. You need me as much as I need you.”
She shoved me, hard enough to put space between us. But she didn’t run. She didn’trun.
And for the first time in centuries, I let myselfhope.
6
~Cleo ~
I should have slapped him.
I should have shoved him harder, cursed his name, turned and run straight into the trees, screaming at the top of my lungs that a Death Mage—aDeath Mage—had just kissed me like he owned my soul. Worse? I kissed him back.
I didn’t run. I stood there. Heart racing. Lips tingling. Skin burning. And I watched him walk away.
The shadows melted around him like theyknewhim, like they followed because they didn’t dare do otherwise. He moved like a storm given flesh—silent and seething and strangely beautiful.
And gods help me, I wanted him to come back. Touch me. Kiss me again. Make me forget my name, my past. Everything. When he touched me, everything else disappeared.
I pressed my fingertips to my lips, still raw from the pressure of his mouth. I could still feel him—allof him. The heat, the need, the hunger. It hadn’t been gentle. It hadn’t been sweet. It had been a promise and a challenge and a brand all in one.
I wanted more.
