26
RAFFAELE
Irolled over in bed and froze. Vivian lay next to me, her breathing steady, her chest rising and falling with a serene rhythm that somehow made the chaos in my mind seem more distant. Her face was calm, free of the tension and guardedness I’d grown accustomed to.
I watched her, taking comfort in the fact that the bond between us was steady and warm. She had stayed. She had found me broken and bleeding, and instead of walking away—or worse, finishing the job—she had stitched me back together.
Why? Why would she do that?
I had been nothing but cruel to her. Every interaction had been a calculated game of power, a reminder that she was here because of me, bound by a forced union and the threat of my will. There was absolutely no reason for her to care. Unless… unless she thought she could use her kindness to soften me, to make me see her as more than a pawn.
I couldn’t let her in more than I already had. Foolish kindness or calculated strategy, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t trust it, couldn’t afford to. Caring—real caring—was a weakness, a crack in the armor I’d spent my entire life fortifying. My father had drilled that into me from the moment I was old enoughto understand cruelty.No one is loyal. No one stays. Everyone leaves or betrays you.
Even if, by some miracle, Vivian was genuine, she deserved better than me. She deserved better than this cursed life, the darkness that seeped from every corner of my existence. And me? I was incapable of giving her anything but pain.
The bond tugged at my resolve. My chest tightened, and I pushed the feeling away, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and forcing myself upright. Pain lanced through me, but it was muted now. My body had healed faster than it should have, thanks to the ancient, twisted pact that bound my family’s power.
As I dressed, the ache in my muscles barely registered. Instead, my thoughts spiraled. How had my father managed to overpower me so completely? His shadows were vicious, yes, and his dark magic was always a bitch, but I should have been able to counter him and protect myself.
I was always able to soften the blows with my own magic. Was it the weakness of the family curse creeping in at last? That inevitable madness and deterioration that plagued every generation?
My hands stilled as I pulled on my shirt.No.Now wasn’t the time for paranoia. What mattered was action, and there was only one way forward.
My father’s words echoed in my mind:eyes and ears all over the estate.The betrayal felt like a noose tightening around my neck. Someone was feeding him information—someone close. But who? Jareth? One of the guards?
Or was my father just bluffing? Perhaps he’d found a way to penetrate my magic, to see through my illusions and wards. I clenched my fists, twisting the fabric as my thoughts spiraled into panic.
I needed leverage. Power. And I needed it now.
Altair’s territory was the key. The Crimson Dominion’s resources would give me what I needed to figure out how to take care of my father. But Altair was dragging his feet, playing his own game, and I didn’t have time to waste. I’d have to push him harder, force him to finalize the deal. Whatever loose ends he claimed to have, he could deal with them on his own time.
But even as I planned my next move, another realization crept in. I couldn’t stay here, not if my father had spies lurking in the shadows. I needed space, somewhere to regroup and think without constantly looking over my shoulder. Somewhere I could fucking breathe.
I couldn’t leave Vivian here.
The thought struck me with a clarity that bordered on panic. Leaving her unprotected wasn’t an option. Even with her being illusioned, I didn’t trust that my father wouldn’t see her and want her for his own. No. She had to come with me.
My apartment in New York City would suffice. It was far removed from the estate, a neutral ground where I could focus. Vivian would hate traveling with me, but that wasn’t my concern. She was coming, whether she liked it or not. With that thought in mind, I shrugged off my button-down shirt and dressed in clothing that was more New York City than The Below: a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Whenever I traveled to the human world, I tried my best to fit in. The whole point was to be left alone with my thoughts, and what better way to do that than to dress like ninety percent of the human population.
I turned back toward the bed. Vivian stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering as she shifted against the pillows. For a moment, I hesitated, watching her. There was a softness to her features now, a fragility I hadn’t seen before. It pulled at some crevice in my heart I hadn’t known was there.
Stop.I pushed the feeling away, steeling myself. Whatever I felt through the bond—whatever this was—it didn’t matter.
“Vivian,” I said.
She stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “What?” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep.
“Get dressed,” I said, pulling my jacket from the chair. “We’re leaving.”
Her brows furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. “What are you talking about? Leaving where?”
“I’ll explain on the way. Pack whatever you need.”
She sat up, her expression shifting from confused to irritated. “You can’t just?—”
“I can,” I cut her off, my shadows curling at the edges of the room. “And I am. Be ready in ten minutes.”
She glared at me, but she didn’t keep arguing. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the bond pulsed faintly, and I felt a flicker of her frustration, it was laced with curiosity and concern. It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t have time to unravel it.
