The memory of Jessina slitting their throats, which I have now watched hundreds of times in vivid detail, continues flashing before my eyes even when I squeeze them shut.
I can’t feel the stone floor. I can’t even feel my own body. All I can feel is pain.
Panicked, I suddenly realize that Draven must be able to feel this through our mate bond as well. And that is the last thing I want.
After our bond was shattered and then reforged, I realized that I can choose when I want him to feel what I feel. And right now, I really don’t. I don’t want him to hurt the way I do. I never want him to feel pain ever again. So I stop the flow of emotions through our mate bond completely while agony continues tearing at my chest like wolves.
A thud sounds from right next to me. As if something heavy just hit the floor.
Forcing my eyes open, I stare at the person who is now lying on the floor a few steps from me. It’s a fae man. He’s shackled and gagged, and he is struggling furiously while glaring up at someone.
“This guy raped and murdered his neighbor yesterday,” Orion Nightbane says from above us while pointing at the shackled man.
I don’t even ask permission.
Reaching for my magic, I summon a bone white flame of fear and slam it right into the guy’s chest.
Pleasure immediately floods my entire body.
At long last, I gasp in a full breath as my lungs stop constricting. A sob escapes my lips.
Pouring my magic into the guy, I breathe in that intoxicating feeling that I get whenever I create an emotion out of nothing. It’s like being wrapped in a warm, comforting hug or floating on a perfectly soft cloud. It makes me feel as if everything is going to be okay. As ifIam going to be okay.
I keep increasing the guy’s fear in order to prolong that sense of sparkling pleasure inside me. But when it reaches such high levels that his mind is about to shatter, I’m forced to release my magic.
Crushing regret and searing agony immediately crash over me again.
Panicked, I summon a black flame of despair and slam it into the guy’s chest.
Pleasure once more floods my system. I suck in a shuddering breath of relief.
Still lying on the floor, I keep pouring my magic into that black flame of despair until I feel better again. Then I release my magic.
And then immediately summon another emotion.
I slam emotion after emotion into the guy’s chest until he is shaking and thrashing on the floor. But I don’t care. I need this. I need to feel this comforting pleasure. Without it, I won’t survive.
Calling up yet another emotion, I shove it into his chest.
His heart gives out.
My magic abruptly disconnects as he dies. I panic, whipping my gaze around for someone else to use it on.
Orion is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches me with an impassive expression on his face.
I’m half a second away from slamming my magic into him when I finally manage to rein myself in. I can’t. It’s Orion. If I create an emotion in his chest, I won’t be able to remove it.
But you need it, my mind whispers.
Gritting my teeth, I try to block out that treacherous voice and the terrible craving inside me that insists I just need to feel that pleasure one more time. Then I’m done. Then I’ll be fine.
With great effort, I manage to resist that overwhelming urge.
Dragging in a breath, I push myself up to my knees. My head spins, and I have to brace my palms on the floor and press my forehead against the cool stone ground for a few seconds tocompose myself. Grief and regret still pulse inside me like a second heart, mingling with the awful craving that now thrums there as well.
“I knew you’d be grateful, but prostrating yourself like this before me?” Orion says, and I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “My, my, Selena. Keep this up and I might actually start to like you a little.”
I snap my head up.
