Vivian had gotten under my skin, and I hated it.
A knock on the door snapped me from my spiraling thoughts, and the door creaked open before I’d granted permission.
Jareth, ever the insufferable thorn in my side, strolled in with his characteristic swagger as if he owned the place.
“You know,” he said lazily, inspecting his nails, “for a guy who just got married, you’re not exactly exuding newlywed bliss. Is this the part where you complain about the in-laws?”
I shot him a glare that would’ve sent most men running, but Jareth wasn’t most men.
“If you have nothing useful to say, I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
He chuckled, unbothered. “Oh, but I am useful. I keep the tension manageable. Imagine how dull this room would be without me.”
Before I could remind him of how easily I could permanently silence him, the door opened again, and Altair strode in. His entrance was as precise and polished as the man himself, his dark crimson robes swirling around him like a storm cloud.
I’d called a meeting with him to see what the holdup was. I’d kept my end of the bargain by marrying Vivian. Not only was I ready to expand my territory, I was also anxious to gain control over the resources of the Crimson Dominion. Blood magic, arcane rituals, and alchemical trade… It would all be under my authority. Perhaps I could use it to put an end to my father and permanently rid myself of his tyrannical reign. I wanted nothing more than to have that insufferable asshole out of my life.
I also wanted to avoid the curse that plagued my bloodline. For centuries, my family believed only we could wield illusion magic without succumbing to madness, but I had come to suspect that my family was indeed cursed.
Every person eventually experienced mental and physical deterioration due to their powers, and the curse led most to an early death—except for my father, who had bound his soul to an artifact that still eluded me.
While the curse had stayed dormant within me, I feared that one day it would take me too, leaving me vulnerable and weak. The magic in Altair’s territory could have answers of how to avoid that.
“Ah, Raffaele,” Altair drawled. “And Jareth. How delightful. I didn’t realize we were entertaining jesters today.”
Jareth grinned at the jab. “I aim to please.”
“Enough,” I said, waving Jareth off like the annoyance he was. My attention turned to Altair, my shadows already curling at the edges of the room, responding to the irritation simmering beneath my skin. “I have fulfilled your request. I’ve married and completed the binding ritual. I’m ready to take control of the Crimson Dominion. The time for delays has passed. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Altair’s lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s in the works, as we agreed. But I must tie up some loose ends first.”
My shadows slithered closer, brushing the hem of Altair’s robes. “I can help you tie them up.”
“No need. These matters require delicate handling. Handing a territory over to another is no easy task. There’s a certain level of professionalism that’s expected, an easy transition period, if you will. It’s best I see to all matters in relation to the territory absorption myself.”
Jareth chuckled. “Delicate handling? That’s rich, coming from someone who runs a territory on blood and fire. What exactly needs tying up, Altair? A loose potion? A wayward ritual?”
Altair shot him a glare, but he quickly composed himself. “Not everyone solves problems with brute force, Jareth.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jareth said, crossing his arms. “It seems to work just fine for me.”
I thought back to the warning from one of my enforcers that the Crimson Dominion was potentially allied with the Ashen faction. Was Altair hiding something? My gut told me this delay wasn’t simply about logistics.
My patience snapped like a frayed thread. Rising from my chair, I unleashed my shadows, coiling them around Altairand slamming him against the wall. He choked, clawing at the invisible force constricting his airway.
“You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, Altair?” I growled. “You know the consequences of breaking our blood bond. Death may be inevitable for you, but I assure you, it will come far sooner and far more painfully if you betray me.”
Altair’s eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “Raffaele... everything... is going as planned. But not if... you kill me first.”
My shadows hesitated, then let go of him. He dropped to the floor in an unceremonious heap, gasping for air, his hands clutching his throat as I loomed over him.
“Explain,” I demanded, my tone as sharp as a blade.
Altair’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “The alchemical trade and rituals are intricate operations. I need time to ensure a smooth transition.”
Liar.The thought seared through me like fire, but I didn’t press further. Not yet.
“Guards,” I barked. “Escort Altair off the estate. And make sure he knows not to return until he’s ready to fulfill our agreement.”
