I pulled my sleeves back down, fabric sticking faintly where my skin was still wet. When I stood, the world tipped for a heartbeat, and his hand hovered near my elbow—not touching, just there.
We left the well behind and slipped back into the press of Shadeau, moving quickly now, weaving through bodies and noise until the streets narrowed and the sounds thinned.
We reached a narrow alley that wound away from the bustle of Shadeau’s main street. Rion stopped before a weathered black door set into the stone wall, its surface carved with curling symbols that seemed to shift if I looked too long. A dim orange light bled from the cracks.
“Here we are,” he said, glancing down at me with a smirk that didn’t bother hiding its challenge. “The witch you’re so eager to meet.”
I hesitated, pulse hammering. Would Séraphine recognize me? Would Rion notice that we knew each other—and if he did, would it help me or ruin me?
My gaze slid back to him. He carried himself like someone used to being obeyed. Exactly the kind of man my mother would have warned me to avoid.
And before I could change my mind, he knocked on the door.
The knock echoed like a drumbeat swallowed by silence. I thought maybe she wouldn’t answer. Maybe she wasn’t here—maybe I’d be spared whatever this was about to become.
Then, the lock clicked.
28
Nerina
Shadeau
The door swung open, and warm air spilled out, heavy with burning herbs, rotting roses, and something metallic beneath it.
Séraphine leaned against the frame, her silhouette caught in the molten glow of candlelight. Her golden-ember eye found me first. The other—black as obsidian—gleamed with an oily, unnatural light. Her smile curled slowly, balanced perfectly between welcome and warning.
“Well now,” she drawled, voice honeyed and low. “Back so soon, cher?”
Rion shifted beside me. “You two know each other?”
“I know all I need t’know.” Her gaze swept me head to toe, lingering long enough to raise the fine hairs at my nape.
Inside, the air was thick and shimmering, heat tangled with shadow. Shelves sagged under jars, bones, and talismans that seemed to twitch when I stared too long. My mark pulsed harder with every step, each throb echoing in my ears.
“Y’come for the Eye,” she said, closing the door with a soft click that seemed to lock the world outside away. The sound was final.
I crossed my arms. “Then you know I’m not leaving without it.”
Her golden eye narrowed. “Mm, non, cher. You ain’t ready t’see what it’ll show ya.”
She began to circle, slow and deliberate, each step a whisper of skirts and the faint scrape of boot leather. Her presence pressed like a clenched fist.
She hooked one lacquered nail under her lower lid, tugging it down until the orb shifted with a wet, deliberate squelch. “I carved my own eye out,” she murmured, almost fond, the words rolling slow and smooth. “Slid this Eye in the hollow so I could always see what it sees.”
My stomach rolled.
She rolled the Eye between her fingers for a moment, the black sphere glinting in the candlelight.
Séraphine’s smile returned, more dangerous now. “So tell me… what you willin’ t’lose, t’take it from me?”
“Well,” I said, voice tight. “If I don’t get that Eye, I lose everything.”
Her golden eye glinting with something between amusement and pity. “Then… you best be ready t’pay in more ways than you can count.”
Frustration flared hot in my chest. “What more could you possibly want? You already have my blood.”
Rion’s head snapped toward me, surprise flashing in his eyes. “You gave her your blood?”
