I tried to focus, but my mind refused to settle. I could still feel Raffaele. The weight of his body pressing into mine, the way his touch had made me feel both furious and alive. It was maddening and exhilarating in equal measure.
I loathed him. I hated his arrogance, his dominance, his constant need to control everything. But gods help me, when he kissed me, when his hands were on me, all reason dissolved. All I could do was give in to the fire he ignited with a look, a word, a touch. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath, willing myself to focus.
When I opened them, I stared down at the intricate diagrams and faded runes on the page. As I scanned the text, the words began to piece together a chilling story.
The Shadow’s family had made a pact. It was a dark, unholy agreement with a goddess I didn’t recognize. The details were vague, but the outcome was crystal clear. Each generation ofhis bloodline was required to sacrifice one family member in exchange for power.
My stomach churned as I reread the passage. A family member. Not just anyone, but someone bound to them by blood. The betrayal, the cold calculation it would take to offer up one of your own, was staggering.
This was the cost of their power. A sacrifice. A life for influence, for fear, for supremacy in The Below. My eyes drifted to a section detailing the ripple effects of the pact. It bred distrust, paranoia, and secrecy. Family members turned on one another, always watching, always wondering if they’d be next.
My hands trembled as I turned the page. The more I read, the more my stomach twisted. This wasn’t just brutality. It was a legacy steeped in blood and betrayal. And Raffaele… he was born into this. He hadn’t chosen it, but he carried the weight of it.
I leaned back against the headboard, my eyes unfocused. I suddenly felt a glimmer of something other than infuriating detestation for Raffaele. It wasn’t pity, exactly—he didn’t deserve that—but understanding, maybe. A glimpse into the darkness he carried, the darkness that had shaped him into The Shadow.
But even as I tried to reconcile this newfound knowledge, my mind spiraled back to my own choices. I’d made a pact too, hadn’t I? With Izo. A creature I didn’t trust, who wielded a charm as dangerous as it was intoxicating. He’d dangled freedom in front of me like a carrot, and I’d grabbed it with both hands, desperate to escape.
I thought of the rune burning into my wrist as I stood at the edge of the sea, the cold authority in Izo’s voice as he explained the blood ritual necessary to expedite Raffaele’s weakness. Izo wasn’t so different from this shadowy goddess—demanding blood, binding me with promises I wasn’t sure he intended to keep.
Was I any better than Raffaele’s ancestors? Had I sacrificed him to secure my own survival?
I closed the book, my breath shaky as I tried to steady myself. This was the truth of The Below. Deals struck in the shadows, pacts that demanded the ultimate price. It didn’t matter whether it was a goddess, a siren, or a mafia lord. It was all the same. Blood for power. Lives for leverage.
I thought of Raffaele again. Was he a victim of this curse, or a willing participant? How much of his ruthlessness came from necessity, and how much from choice?
I rubbed my temples. I was no saint. I was using Raffaele just as much as he was using me.
This world wasn’t mine. I didn’t belong here, surrounded by shadows and sacrifices, power plays and betrayals. And yet, I was entrenched in it now, bound by pacts and magic and my own desperate choices.
What kind of person had I become? And what kind of person would I be by the time I clawed my way out of this?
The knock at the door was soft, almost hesitant, breaking the silence of the room and pulling me out of my thoughts. I tucked the book under my pillow and called out, “Come in,” expecting Raffaele. A part of me braced for his towering presence, his sharp words, or perhaps some new ultimatum.
But when the door creaked open, it wasn’t him.
“Camilla!” I shot up from the bed, my heart leaping. Before I could think, I was across the room, wrapping my arms around her neck. She stiffened for a brief second, probably startled by my reaction, but then she hugged me back.
Tears burned my eyes, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed someone familiar in this twisted, suffocating place.
Camilla pulled back, holding me at arm’s length. Her sharp green eyes searched my face, her brows furrowing in concern. “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
I laughed shakily. “No,” I admitted, wiping at my cheeks with the heel of my hand. “I’m definitely not okay. But I’m safe, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She tilted her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s exactly what I’m asking. I had to see it for myself.”
Her words made me smile, but it was weak and fleeting. “I missed you.”
Camilla looked at me with a mix of affection and exasperation. “Missed you too, Viv. But seriously, is The Shadow treating you with respect?” Her voice lowered, tinged with steel, like she was already imagining what she’d do to him if my answer was no.
I nodded, though the motion felt heavy. “He’s… not cruel. Not like I thought he’d be, anyway. But it’s complicated.”
Camilla arched a brow. “Complicated how?”
How could I explain this to her? The bond that allowed me to feel his emotions, and him mine? How sometimes, when Raffaele looked at me, it felt like the world tilted and I couldn’t breathe, but that it wasn’t from fear?
“He’s distant,” I said instead. “Hard to read.”
Her gaze narrowed, but she let it go. “Distant isn’t the worst thing.”
