Natalia was my niece.Mon sang.My blood. My most trusted advisor. My second in command. We frequently exchanged barbs, yet the lack of warmth between us was unfamiliar. I’d grown tired of her continued accusations against my wife, and she had grown tired of my ignoring them. But something had shifted, and as much as I wished for the words to mend the divide, I had none.
“What news?” I asked.
She simply stared at me.
“If you’ve come to lecture me about Claire?—”
“This isn’t about your wife,”she interrupted tightly, speaking in Sanguisi.“Not everything is.”
A lie. Everything was about Claire now. Everything I did, everything I feared, everything I planned.
“Then what news?” I asked again.
She was quiet for a moment. “We have reports from Roselyn of asighting.” A coded remark. There was too much on my mind to interpret it at the moment. I opened the channel between our minds, waiting for her to clarify, but all she said was,“A werewolf.”
Chapter 5
Oser
CLAIRE
Ilost count of how many times I tried—and failed—to keep the candle lit. Eventually, it became less about conjuring the flame and more about the fact that I actually had magick. I had powers that were just for me. The kind that called flamesanddrove my own pleasure.
After half an hour, I told myself I needed a break. I’d been at it so long that even my brown wolf was panting. But the horn kept vibrating, insistent that I test my limits. As it turned out, my power for self-pleasure was inexhaustible.
With its help, I was free to explore my body on my own terms. I found my body was capable of more than I ever believed. Then there was the little pile of seashells. They’d appeared one by one. Beautiful, tiny things swirled with color. I couldn’t explain why, but they felt like gifts.
I smiled and reclined on the pillow, relaxing into the silk sheets, staring at my shells and the horn, which had finally gone still. Not so long ago,I believed dark magick was an abomination. But things like the horn and these shells were changing my mind.
I stroked the curve of it, grateful for what it had shown me, yet I knew in my heart that in order to break the curse on the necklace, I needed real power. It couldn’t be just me and the horn. There was a missing piece to all this:My husband.
Soon, we would be leaving for the Lawless Lands. I had no idea what to expect on our journey, except perhaps cold nights in a tent with a man who refused to risk anything for fear of creating an heir. He would still crawl between my legs, feast on my blood, and still use that skilled tongue of his, but always with restraint. As if my body were something he had to manage.
That wasn’t what I wanted for my marriage. And it wasn’t what I wanted for myself. But who could I ask to help me unlock my latent power? One name came to mind: Devlinn. He was a Dark Witch, and more importantly, he was one of my trusted consorts. However, since I had chosen the three people I was supposed to take as lovers, they’d always just been friends. Even Alec. As handsome and charming as he was, and as eager as he’d been to please me, it was nothing compared to Bastien.
I swallowed hard. Yes. Devlinn would know what to do.
As soon as I made the decision to dress and find him, the stone wall across from where I stoodgroaned. Puffs of old mortar erupted into the air. I shielded my face with my hand, sputtering out a cough. The dust turned into golden sparkles of light, and behind it, as if drawn by an invisible hand, appeared two arched doorways. The doors swung open in perfect unison, revealing two staircases.
I could hardly believe what I was seeing. Magick, not wielded by a person, but cast from within the walls. It felt, absurdly, as if the castle had heard my vow and decided to answer it.
Cautiously, I drew closer to the open doors. The sound of fur rustling and nails clicking told me I’d piqued the interest of my wolves. They might’ve ignored my cries of pleasure, but they couldn’t ignore this kind of magick.
And neither could I.
I set my hand on the doorway of the ascending staircase and drew in a deep breath. The scent of parchment, tobacco smoke, and fresh citrus wafted toward me. It reminded me of the old family grimoires Mama kept. The ones seeped in light magick. Ones I’d longed to use as a girl. But I knew that wouldneverhappen.
I glanced down at the white wolf, who whined and nudged her snout into my knee. She was encouraging me up the spiraling wooden stairs. Meanwhile, the larger brown male was standing beside the staircase that plunged downward. I edged closer to it and drew in a breath of salty air and must. The sound of dripping water echoed from far below.
Taking a step back, I considered the doors. I thought of using my bloodstone to summon Bastien and ask him where these staircases led, but I already knew what he would do. He’d simply close both doors and say I needed rest. He’d reassure me that he had a plan to take care of everything and that I needed to trust him. Just like he refused to consider that maybe these powers came to me for a reason, and that I was meant to take the choker off myself.
My anger spiked viciously. Of course, I trusted him, but he wasn’t returning the favor. He hadn’t listened to me when I told him I could draw power from the horn. And I’d been right. The candles, the shells, these doors were all proof. If he’d just made love to me, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.
I drew in a breath to calm myself. I was letting the fire consume me, and that couldn’t happen. I was standing at a crossroads, and whichever direction I chose would change mylife. Going up felt like seeking answers in a safe way. Going down felt like stepping into everything I’d said I was willing to become.
From the depths of the castle came a croaking voice.“Come, Claire,”it called softly.“Come look into my waters.”
The fine hairs along my arms lifted, and my pulse thundered against my ribs. A voice rising from beneath the castle should have sent me running for Bastien. But I wanted to make new choices. To prove that I was the worthiest witch in that graveyard.
