I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, willing myself not to give him the satisfaction of my reaction.
“Don’t look so upset, my dear. This is just the beginning. There’s so much more we can explore together.”
I turned my face away, trying to focus on anything but him. The shimmering walls, the hint of magic in the air, the ache in my chest—anything to anchor myself.
But it didn’t work. The compulsion was too strong, its tendrils weaving through my thoughts and emotions, blurring the lines between what was real and what wasn’t. I could feel it isolating me, dulling my connection to Raffaele, to myself.
I tried to hold onto the memory of him—his touch, his voice, the unyielding determination in his eyes—but it felt like sand slipping through my fingers.
“You’re fighting it. Admirable, but ultimately futile.”
I glared at Izo, though my resolve was fraying at the edges. “You can’t take everything from me.”
His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Oh, Vivian.” He stood and circled the table like a predator stalking its prey. “I don’t need to take everything. Just enough to make you mine.”
The words chilled me to my core, but I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t let him see how deeply he was cutting me.
“Let’s see how long you last,” he said, his tone almost playful. “I think you’ll find that the human spirit is far more fragile than you’d like to believe.”
I couldn’t respond. My throat was too tight.
Deep down, I knew he was right.
The compulsion was already unraveling me, piece by piece. And as much as I wanted to believe I could resist, that I could hold on to the core of who I was, I could feel it slipping away.
But I couldn’t give up. Not yet.
Not while there was still a chance that Raffaele would find me.
I straightened and met Izo’s gaze. “You won’t win.”
He smiled, clearly amused by my defiance. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
The claws of the compulsion grew deeper, wrapping around me like chains. But I clung to the ounce of hope burning in my chest, even as his influence threatened to smother it.
Raffaele would come.
He had to.
43
RAFFAELE
The line for the ferry was far longer than my patience could handle. We were so damn close to getting to Vivian, and yet we were shuffling forward at an agonizingly slow pace. The salty air stung my nostrils, the distant roar of the waves beneath the dock doing nothing to soothe the simmering rage inside me.
I clenched my fists, feeling the last vestiges of my magic curling weakly inside me. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough for what I needed to do. Before all of this, I wouldn’t have even noticed the drain of casting a simple illusion. Now, I felt the effort deep in my bones.
Luca gave me a sidelong glance. “You’re going to snap if you don’t calm down,” he said under his breath.
I shot him a glare. “I don’t have the luxury of calm.”
Ahead of us, the ferry guards scanned faces with enchanted devices, their sharp eyes catching even the slightest irregularity. When we were close enough to the front of the line, I stepped forward and let the dregs of my magic flow through me. It was like pulling water from a cracked well, the energy sluggish and reluctant. I gritted my teeth, forcing the illusion to take shape.
Dark armor emblazoned with the emblem of the Ashen Faction shimmered into existence over each of us. Our faces shifted subtly, taking on features common among the guards I’d studied earlier. The magic was crude, far from my usual precision, but it would have to do.
“Keep your mouths shut and follow my lead,” I said through gritted teeth. Holding the illusion was taking all my focus.
The guards at the entrance eyed us as we approached. They scanned Luca first, their enchanted device emitting a faint glow before the guard nodded and waved him through.
