I crossed my arms, clenching my fingers tightly to keep them from trembling. “A blood ritual?” I echoed in disbelief. “How the hell am I supposed to pull that off? Raffaele’s not exactly the type to let his guard down. I thought I just had to kiss him one time?”
Izo’s smile widened, but there was no humor in it. It was almost frantic… menacing. “You’ll need to be clever, Vivian,” he said, his voice sharpening ever so slightly. “Subtlety is key, especially with someone as observant as The Shadow. But you’re resourceful. You’ll find a way.”
I shook my head, apprehension coiling in my chest. “You’re talking about deceiving a man who has shadows literally following his every move. I’m not sure you understand what an impossible task this is.”
He tilted his head, irritation flashing in his shimmering eyes. “Nothing is impossible if you have the will to succeed. The ritual requires only a few drops of his blood. That’s all. You activate the rune, and the siphoning will begin.”
“What rune?” I asked, panic rising within me. “You’re asking me to pull off some elaborate scheme, and you haven’t even explained how it works.”
Izo crouched in the shallow waves, his fingers skimming the wet sand. “This rune,” he said, drawing a swirling, intricate symbol into the sand. As his finger traced the final curve, a sudden, searing heat flared against my wrist.
I gasped, clutching my arm as the burning sensation spread. “What the fuck?” I hissed, yanking back the sleeve of my robe to reveal a glowing mark etched into my skin. It was the same symbol Izo had drawn in the sand, and it pulsed with a faint, eerie light.
“It can only be seen by those who wield my magic,” Izo said, straightening as he brushed the sand from his hands. “When you place his blood onto the rune, it will awaken, creating a channel that will enhance the effects of my kiss, draining his magic more quickly.”
I stared at the glowing mark on my wrist. Yet another shackle.
“This is insane,” I muttered. “How am I supposed to do this without him realizing?”
Did I even want to?
The charm vanished from Izo’s features. “Use your imagination, Vivian,” he snapped, his voice colder now. “You’re in his bed, aren’t you? During an intimate moment, bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. Make it look like passion, not betrayal. Then discreetly transfer the blood to the rune.”
My stomach churned. I didn’t trust Raffaele, not fully, but the thought of tricking him like this sent my guilt soaring.
“This is too much,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t even know if?—”
“You don’t have achoice,” Izo hissed. He took a step toward me, looming over me. “If you want yourfreedom, you’ll do as I say.”
The sudden shift in his demeanor made my heart race. His eyes turned dark and dangerous, and the energy around him seemed to buzz with suppressed power. “I don’t see how this—” His song filled my ears before I could finish, wrapping around me like a silk noose. Calm seeped into me.
The haunting melody melted my resistance, the compulsion weaving through my thoughts and silencing my objections. My body relaxed against my will.
“You’re not scared, Vivian,” he said softly, though his tone was far from reassuring. “You’re determined. You know what’s at stake. We’re on the same team.”
The words burrowed into my mind, twisting into truth despite my instincts screaming otherwise. I nodded slowly, my movements stiff and mechanical. “I’ll do it,” I whispered.
“Good,” Izo said, his tone lightening. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. This is your path to freedom, Vivian. Don’t forget that.”
I turned away, my wrist tingling as the rune’s glow faded into nothingness. As I walked back toward the house, guilt and doubt gnawed at me like sharp teeth. Izo’s words echoed in my mind, but so did the image of a bloodied and broken Raffaele.
I told myself this was about Will. About going home. About survival.
But with each step, that reasoning felt thinner and thinner.
30
VIVIAN
The knock on my door broke my focus. The rhythmic tap wasn’t exactly urgent, but it demanded attention, nonetheless. I sighed, pushing back from my computer desk. “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and one of Raffaele’s guards stepped inside, a hulking man with an unreadable expression. He carried something wrapped in a towel, holding it with an odd sort of care that piqued my curiosity.
“This is for you,” he said, his deep voice devoid of inflection as he set the bundle on the edge of my desk, then immediately left the room.
I stared at the towel, curiosity and apprehension flashing through me in rapid succession. My heart beat faster as I pulled the fabric aside with cautious fingers. The moment I saw the object inside, I froze.
The Mirror of Truths.
