I’d holed up in Raffaele’s private library, sifting through brittle scrolls and dusty tomes, praying he wouldn’t suddenly appear to drag me out. My nerves were frayed, but my determination burned brighter to find the answers I needed about this so-called curse, about Raffaele’s father and the control that bastard still seemed to have over him. Raffaele seemed determined that no one could help him, but I refused to believe it was a hopeless cause.
I gingerly spread out a scroll on the desk. The parchment was delicate, its edges frayed and brittle, as though it might disintegrate with the slightest wrong move. The scroll detailed the history of the ritual chamber within the Gallanti estate, the same room where I had been bound to Raffaele.
Lord Thorne had designed the chamber and infused it with blood magic to strengthen him whenever he conducted rituals there. The room had been used to extract magical energy from captives, draining them to fuel the estate’s defenses and illusions. Most of those captives had not survived.
I swallowed hard, my stomach churning. The image of Raffaele’s bloodied face from his father’s last attack flashed in my mind. How much of this estate’s power was built on stolenlives? And how much of Raffaele’s strength was tied to this dark legacy?
The air shifted suddenly, a suffocating cold seeping into the room. My skin prickled, and I froze, every instinct screaming at me to run.
A figure loomed in the shadows, taller and more menacing than anything I’d ever seen. Malevolence emanated from him. He was dressed in a dark hooded robe that seemed to absorb the light, his features sharp and angular, almost too perfect to be human. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his lips curved into a sinister smile, revealing teeth that were unnervingly sharp. But it was his eyes that sent ice through my veins—pits of endless black that seemed to see through every layer of my soul.
“Hello, little mouse,” he purred, his voice a low, velvety menace. “What are you doing in here, I wonder?”
I stumbled back, nearly knocking over the desk behind me. “Who... who are you?”
He stepped closer, his movements predatory and deliberate. “You mean my son hasn’t told you about me?” His smile widened, and my stomach turned. “I’m Lord Thorne.”
Oh, fuck.
My heart pounded as I tried to think of an escape route. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude,” I stammered, hating how small and fragile my voice sounded.
He tilted his head, his gaze raking over me like a predator sizing up prey. “Oh, but you have. This is no place for a delicate little human like you.” He licked his lips, the motion slow and deliberate, and I shuddered.
“I’ll… I’ll just leave, then.”
He laughed, a low, chilling sound that echoed through the room. “Leave? Oh, no, my dear. Not yet. You’ve been busy, haven’t you? Digging through things that don’t concern you.”
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stand my ground. “They concern me if they involve your son.”
At that, his expression darkened, his smile turning cruel. “Ah, yes. My son. You reek of him, you know. His scent clings to you like a brand.” He took a step closer, and I stepped back instinctively, my legs hitting the desk behind me. “I wonder, what could he possibly want with a filthy human girl like you?”
“Stay away from me.” I despised the tremor in my voice.
“Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together,” he murmured, his tone dripping with malice. “I wonder how long it will take before you break.” His hand shot out, and his fingers brushed my face, cold as death.
“Such a fragile thing,” he mused, his voice almost gentle. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long in The Below.”
I flinched and slapped his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
His eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement. “Feisty. That’s good. It’ll make breaking you all the more satisfying.”
The instant Lord Thorne wrapped his bony hand around my wrist, the world dissolved into an all-consuming darkness. My stomach lurched as though I were free-falling, and the air itself felt thick, heavy, like molasses clinging to my skin.
And then, as abruptly as it began, the sensation ended. My feet hit solid ground, but the nausea remained, and I stumbled forward, barely catching myself. Celeste had talked about veilstepping with Luca, but I never imagined it would be this disorienting.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Lord Thorne purred behind me.
The place was a nightmare come to life. Dim, flickering light from torches mounted on the walls barely illuminated the grotesque scene before me. The foul stench of rancid meat assaulted my nose. I gagged and covered my nose.
Half-eaten carcasses were scattered across the floor, some unrecognizable in their state of decay. Strange, shadowy shapes that shifted and writhed as if alive lined the walls, and in the far corner, I spotted tattered and stained fabric that I realized with horror were underwear.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered, stumbling back a step, only to bump into Lord Thorne’s unyielding chest.
“What’s wrong, little mouse? Not to your liking?”
I spun around, backing away from him until my shoulders hit the wall. “Take me back,” I demanded, though my voice trembled. “Take me back to Raffaele. He’ll explain everything. This is a misunderstanding.”
“Raffaele?”Lord Thorne’s lips curled into a sinister smile. “Ah, so youareclose with my son, hmm? Close enough to call him by his birth name. How quaint. Tell me, little human, do you think he’ll come for you if I decide to keep you here? Or perhaps you’d prefer to explain why you were snooping in places you didn’t belong?”
