I start shouting bloody murder, praying my voice will carry through the stone and reach a Good Samaritan’s ear. Perhaps one of the Rossi servants . . .
The general sidles against my back and clamps his palm against my mouth. “Don’t interrupt, Fallon.”
As he shoves me toward Meriam, I yell, “Doodoo it!” I pray she understands I’m trying to saydon’t. Oh Gods, what if she thinks I’m encouraging her? I try to yank my hand away from Dante’s, but though my skin is clammy and slick with blood, I’m no match to his strength. “Aw bug you, Meeyam, doont go froo—”
“For fuck’s sake, Rossi,” Dante growls. “Control your granddaughter.”
Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and sink straight into my marrow when Meriam brings her bleeding fingertip to the edge of my pinky.
“Pleeef,” I croak against Justus’s palm. “No.”
The jolt of power that radiates from me shocks my lungs, and I suck in a bladed breath that makes my chest ache.
Chanting Shabbin words about unity and power, she draws her finger over the hills and valleys of my knuckles, before curving it around Dante’s hands.
I shake. With horror. With despair. With rage.
I think of Lore, of how all I’m feeling will surely pale in comparison to what he’ll feel once he learns his mate was married to another male. He’ll rip out Dante’s heart.
Justus bands his free arm around my waist, keeping me upright and steady, forcing me to endure the unpleasant tingle of his new wife’s life essence on my skin and the sharp burn of where my gash connects to Dante’s.
Meriam keeps murmuring her incantation, keeps ribboning blood around both our hands. I try one last, desperate time to pull away, but between my grandfather’s restraint and Dante’s unwavering grip, my attempt is futile.
I don’t understand why she’s going through with this. Will it somehow release her from her throne?
She swirls her pointer finger through the lines she’s drawn, linking them all, and although I’ve never seen this spell performed, I know when it’s done. And not because her blood sinks into my pores and vanishes, but because I feel this . . . this . . . tingle race across my palm, sealing my fate.
My lungs compress, like I’m holding my breath underwater when what I’m holding in is a scream. With a frantic tug, I finally break free of Dante.
The Faerie King lifts his hand and twirls it in front of his face, eyes wide with awe while mine are wide with shock, and then with despair at the sight of the interlocked rings tattooed beneath the smear of our mixed bloods. I flip my hand over, and sure enough, the same dark circles blemish my skin.
Anger slickens my lash line, hotter than my new brand, wetter than the salted dribbles of my tears. A ring, I could’ve gotten rid of, but a tattoo . . . Until I murder Dante, I will have the reminder of our connection inscribed on my skin.
On the upside—because yes, I always thrive to find upsides—I now understand the meaning of Justus’s tattoo, and it’s not a shield. That man cannot fathom the pain he’s in for. I will tear him to ribbons with my magic and then stomp on them.
“Is it done?” Dante breathes out.
“Yes.” Meriam’s voice jolts me out of my disturbing thoughts. “Now step back so I may attempt to unbind my granddaughter.”
“Attempt?” Dante lowers his marked hand.
“We’ve already discussed this, Maezza. Without Lorcan present, if her Shabbin side is too tangled with her Crow side, there are chances I will not manage to pick apart my spell.”
“And I’ve already told you that including Ríhbiadh is not a possibility.”
Meriam suggested working with Lorcan to unravel my magic? Doesn’t she realize he’d kill her before she could even slit her finger?
Oh, Gods. I need to warn him that he cannot kill her, because killing her will kill me.
Nine
As Dante backs up, I try to regulate my breathing, but it’s no use. My heart pounds too fast, contracting my every muscle.
“Untie the lace at your neck.” Meriam’s voice draws my gaze back to hers. “I need to have access to your heart.”
Chills rake down my spine, pinning my boots to the vault’s obsidian floor. I want magic, but I also want to live. Giving the witch access to my heart feels dangerous.
What if she stops it?
