“Let’s make this a bit more interesting,” he said, dragging the blade downward. Pain flared in its wake, a fiery sting that had me crying out despite myself. Tears blurred my vision as he carved the line all the way down to my hip—each moment stretched to an eternity of agony.
“Stop!” I screamed, thrashing wildly against the bonds. “Please, stop!”
He ignored me, entirely focused on his gruesome artistry. Another line followed, a mirror to the first, from my shoulder to the opposite hipbone. Sobs tore from my throat. Blood welled up along the cuts, warm and sticky as it trickled over my skin.
“There,” he said finally, sitting back to admire his work. “Much better. You wear my mark well, little mouse.”
My body shook uncontrollably from the searing pain. My thoughts were a frantic blur of desperation. I needed to get out. I needed Raffaele.
Lord Thorne leaned down until his face was inches from mine, his breath hot and rancid against my skin. “You’ll learn your place soon enough. And when you do, you’ll beg me for mercy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, clinging to the faint bond between Raffaele and me. It was a tenuous thread, but it was the only hope I had left.
Please, I begged silently.Please, Raffaele. Find me. Save me.
35
RAFFAELE
Ipulled the glowing 4D map from my desk drawer. I scanned it carefully, searching for the pulsing dot that would alert me to Vivian’s location. Except there was no dot. How the fuck was that possible? It made no sense.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the bond. Vivian was close, I could tell. She had to be on the estate.
Inhaling slowly, I centered myself and reached deeper into the bond. It acted like an internal compass, and the farther Vivian strayed from me, the more my restlessness swelled. Despite the absence of her marker on the map, I didn’t feel that gnawing emptiness or frantic pull that would come if she had ventured off the property. Instead, there was a simmering tension beneath my sternum, a subtle hum that assured me she was still somewhere within the grounds.
As I focused on that sensation, it manifested as a steady warmth in my chest—maddeningly vague, but insistent. Her presence was a soft glow behind closed eyes, a gentle current of energy that neither spiked nor waned. Every second I failed to find her chipped at my patience. She was near, and that knowledge anchored me, but her disappearance was no simple matter of wandering off. Something else was at play.
I was already moving, my mind racing faster than my feet could carry me. I checked my room first, my magic flaring as I tore through the space, pulling open doors and cabinets as though she might somehow be tucked away, hidden from sight.She has to be here.But the room was empty, the sheets on my bed untouched. A cold knot formed in my chest.
I stormed down the hall to her old room. She retreated here when this fucked-up arrangement became too much. I slammed the door open, calling her name even as my instincts screamed the truth I didn’t want to accept.
Her laptop was powered down, her books and notes stacked neatly. My pulse pounded in my ears, each beat louder than the last as I tried to piece together the fragments of what could have happened.
Think, Raffaele. Think.
I whirled around, my shadows flaring out in sharp tendrils as I stalked through the mansion. The kitchen, the dining hall, the sitting room where she sometimes took a break. Each place mocked me with its emptiness.
“Vivian!” My voice echoed off the high ceilings, but no one answered. The staff I passed offered concerned glances, their murmured reassurances only fueling my panic.
Where could she have gone?
I burst out onto the estate grounds, the cool breeze slapping my face. I ran toward the overlook near the sea, my breath ragged. She loved that spot. Maybe she had gone there to think, to find some peace.Please let her be there.
But when I reached the overlook, all I found was the empty expanse of land, the sea stretching endlessly beyond it. “Fuck!” I spun around, scanning the woods behind me. Shadows pooled at my feet, eager to be unleashed, but they offered no answers.Think, Raffaele. Think.
As I started back toward the mansion, a new thought gripped me.What if she tried to escape?I’d told myself I wouldn’t let her leave, but what if my failing magic had given her the opportunity? The thought sent a sharp pang of loss and fear straight to my chest.
But no. Vivian wouldn’t leave like that, not without something bigger at play.
As I turned back toward the mansion, a sharp, visceral pang stopped me dead in my tracks.
Panic. Pain. Hers.
The bond roared to life, the intensity of her fear slamming into me like a physical blow. My knees buckled, and I clutched at my chest, gasping as the rawness of her terror flooded my senses.
“Vivian…” Her name escaped me—a plea, a prayer—as adrenaline surged through my veins.
She was alive, but trapped. In agony.
