DOTD Chapter 15

A burial for Edwin. A witch hunt unfolds. The Duke makes his mark.

The walk to the willow was still, full of impending release. My jeweled slippers crunched softly on the foliage below, the hot summer wind whispering through my hair. The letter felt like lead in my gloved hands, the wax seal like tungsten. I carried with me closure, an obligation to provide a true place of rest. I owed him that much. I would finally bury Edwin in the warm, familiar soil and with it, the weight of my bitterness, the anger strangling my heart and dictating my actions.

I had walked this path so many times, the grass and leaves underfoot were flattened and worn with regular use. Strolls in the wood usually ended there, my back pressed against the strong trunk of the cascading, mournful tree. Occasionally, on a day like today, the heat would be too suffocating for a corset, and I would strip down and plunge into the river, the cool spring water washing away my worries. Even with the cover of the trees, the heat was unbearable. Between the layers of black lace and the hearth inside me that had roared just moments ago, the thought of taking a dip was tempting.

I came to a clearing in my path, opening to a lush green haven…my haven. The wispy grass brushed sweetly on my ankles as I walked, a finch chirping soft melodies above. My lungs expanded, breathing in the warm smells of summer. Sugary scent of honeysuckle greeted my nose, beckoning me, inviting me in. I sighed, peace entering my bloodstream and calming my mind as I strode towards the weeping willow draping its long limbs over the stream.

“ This is where you will rest, my friend,” I whispered softly into the air.

The cool shade of the tree fell over me as I ducked under its cascading, green branches. I dropped to my knees amongst the thick roots and pulled my dagger from the folds of my gown. Placing the letter aside, I dug into the dirt with the blade, carving out a small, earthy home for my written words to sleep. Laying the dagger gently to the side, I grasped the letter once more.

The words should be read aloud.
Spoke into the peace that clings heavily in the air.

My finger brushed sweetly along the page, a heavy ache pulling at my chest. I wasn’t sure if I could get them out, if they would leave my tongue. But I needed the freedom to live, and Edwin…he needed permission to rest.

I slid my thumb along the seal, breaking the wax and my heart all over again. Sliding the note from the envelope, I slowly turned over the folded letter in my palm. Eyes shut tight, hands slightly trembling, I willed myself to read the painful words I’d written in my blood.
Breath.

My lungs obeyed, rising and releasing one final breath before opening my eyes. I froze, hands motionless, body stuck crouching in the dirt. Numbness spread through my face. The page…my writing… it was gone.

Two single sentences were written in the center of the paper. My breath became ragged, hot tears welling at the corner of my eyes.

My death is not your burden to carry, Miss Fluer.
Be at peace.

“ Edwin,” I whispered, my breath shaky, my voice cracked.

He’d heard. He was listening. A weepy smile bloomed from cheek to cheek, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. I’d done it. My blood had somehow reached Edwin beyond the veil and allowed his word passage back. I couldn’t believe it. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet here it was in front of me, his words healing the cracked fragments of my soul. My shoulders relaxed, a weight lifting off me as my tears dripped onto the page.

“Thank you,” I muttered, cheeks wet with salt.
“ Thank you,” I sang softly again.

I squeezed the letter to my chest, breathing in deep, my tears calming to quiet sniffles. A peace settled over me, blanketing my limbs as if Edwin himself were wrapping his arms around me. I glanced down at the note again, wishing to soak up his healing words one last time. To my surprise, the words had faded, the page resuming a blank, tea-stained emptiness. Gradually, more inky writing came into view, blotting the paper with a new message. I read on.

But be warned, not all are who they seem.

My killer’s blade bears an emblem, that of a single flame burning in total darkness.

Before he made his mark, he spoke these words to me.

“Even the dark has its watchmen.”


The murderer….the—the one who’d slaughtered him.

As I read the warning, a chill lapped at my spine, prickling down my limbs and causing my hair to stand straight up. Edwin was trying to help me, to protect me. The killer was still out there and clearly capable of a gruesome kill, and the ability to seal suspicion with magic. I rehearsed the words in my mind.

“ Even the dark has its watchmen”....Not all are who they seem.

Anxiety crept stealthily along the edges of my core, provoking speculation. It could be anyone. Was it possible the killer was right in front of me and I didn’t know it? It could be someone I saw on a regular basis, maybe someone I trusted? But who would have such a motive?

My head spun with endless hypotheses, my heart beating widely behind my ribs. What could this mean? I knew then that I would have to be on guard, viewing everyone through a different lens. The world would be tested through my eyes, analyzed for potential motive. I wouldn’t let the killer gain the upper hand. I now possessed knowledge more precious than rubies, an advantage the murderer was ignorant of. I needed to tell Lucien what I learned. But how? How would I explain to him Edwin’s warning without giving away my ability to reach him in the first place? I would have to think of something, and it would need to be good. I doubted Lucien was easily fooled by much.

Committing Edwin’s words to memory, I tenderly placed the letter in the hole and gently moved the dirt to cover it. In symbolism of my mourning, I removed the black diamonds I wore and placed each one upon his grave.

“ I will find him, Edwin,” I spoke quietly to the dirt. “ Rest knowing that.”

I braced my back in the familiar groove of the trunk, head tilted back in stillness. I wanted to sit with him, just for a moment. Commit this lull in time to the core of my memory. He was finally at peace. Although his body was not physically here, his soul would rest in the soft soil and sleep under wild flowers. Even if I were the only one who truly knew, it would be enough. I stayed that way for a long while, resting my soul with his and soaking up the calmness that poured over these grounds. There was much to worry about, but right here, right now, it was only about him.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips, reminiscing on each hour spent underneath this tree. Perhaps this weeping willow wept tears of joy, for my memories of the place had always been filled with safety, a rare reality for me now. I had worn beautiful, vibrant colors then, not layers of black lace and tears. And even in gowns painted like the lilies of the valley, I had still shucked them off and waded into the river. I tuned into the sound of the rushing water, its crisp whisperings drowning out the worrisome noise and tempting me to follow tradition.

It was hot, the loose strands of my hair had stuck to my forehead, and sweat was pooling on my lower back. It was brave to wear black in Innswood during the summer months, my corset suddenly closing in on my tighter. Besides, there was quite a mess waiting for me at home, my sisters, James, Rune, Father’s temper, and another hectic night training with Lucien. I was in no rush to sour the rare tranquility of this moment. I wasn’t sure when I’d see another like it. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, as if the decision had already been finalized.

Maybe just a quick dip….

I eased off the trunk and stood to my feet, stepping out of my slippers. My bare toes curled in the soft grass as I unlaced my corset one ribbon at a time. Inch by inch, I loosened the black finery, the movements releasing a sense of freedom inside me. The summer breeze kissed my bare skin, cooling the sweat slick to my body.

God, it felt glorious.

Abandoning my gown beneath the willow, I leisurely strolled toward the riverbank, the warm sunshine glistening on my skin. I should have felt exposed, completely naked in broad daylight, but here, I was free, and no one knew the location of my secret sanctuary. I waded into the cool river, the crisp temperature melting the suffocating heat off me. I sighed in deep satisfaction. It had been so long since I’d done this.

Up to my chest in the brisk water, I swam leisurely in the crystal-clear waves, dipping my long hair and hot face under. This…this was an excellent use of free will, not a practice I was particularly used to. Floating gently in the deeper part of the river, I lifted my hand into the sunlight, studying my birthmark.

“ What is your purpose?” I asked it, turning my glistening skin over.

A spark nipped at the area, as if it was trying to respond to me. I smiled, dipping my fingertip across the surface of the water, creating small ripples. The majority of me was afraid of what I was capable of, but a small, minuscule part of me was fascinated. I had never amounted to anything before, always seen as a disappointment or a disgrace. Now, I had something unique, something physically impossible that defined me. In some ways, I was… special. Special felt good.

“ Good day for a swim, huh?” called a male voice.
I quickly scrambled, finding the river bottom with my feet. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, my eyes shooting in the direction of the voice.

Oh, God.

It was Lucien. Dressed heavily in his usual black, in all his brooding glory. He paced along the riverbank, twirling a small lock on his pointer finger. His hood was back, sandy, cropped hair reflecting the sunlight. Without my consent, my eyes instinctively curved along his muscled figure. He really was magnificent to behold.

That damn dream!
I cursed silently under my breath, scolding myself for staring too long.

How had he found me here anyway?
No one knew of this place, except me. It wasn’t particularly easy to find.

Now, I felt definitely exposed. I was fully submerged but still at least thirty feet from my gown. Despite the frigid water engulding my bare body, a flush crept up my neck, staining my cheeks pink. How had he managed to find me naked TWICE?

“ I–Uh, yes. What are you doing here?” I questioned from the water, my arms wrapping tighter around myself.

He wound up by the willow, picking up my gown with one hand. A small grin tugged at his lips as his golden eyes raked over my undergarments.

Those lips….
Damn it! Focus!

“ Well, I’m certainly not stripping nude in broad daylight. You surprise me, Lady Undergrove,” he taunted, eyes locking on my one from across the shore.

I huffed out a loud sigh, half embarrassment, half annoyance. “ Put that down, Lucien! How did you know where I was? No one knows about this place?” I questioned.

“ I didn’t know,” he explained, tossing my gown back to the ground, “ I was tracking something. There was a large surge of power. I felt it. Picked up on its scent and followed it here. I’ve seemed to have lost it, though.”

Shit.
Could it have been me? Was Lucien tracking….me?

“ Yes, well. Some hunter you are,” I jested, attempting to draw him into humor and away from suspicion.

He scoffed, plopping down against the tree and soaking up the cool shade it provided. Glancing around, he paused for a moment, eyes widening as if he’d found something. Sure enough, he lifted his jeweled dagger into the air, a grin catching once more.

“ Now what would a Lady be doing out in the woods, by herself, with a dagger?” he speculated, turning the steel blade over in his hands. “ I thought I’d never get this back.”

“ Put it down!” I demanded, frustration brewing. “ Don’t you have some more important things to do than harass me. Maybe hunting down a pack of skinweavers?”

I was stuck, naked in this stupid river, and helpless to do anything about him pilaging through my things. Things I supposed were his first… but still!

“ Oh, I don’t think so!” he chuckled, “ I’ll be returning this to its rightful home. With a new lock, I might add, we’ll see how you fare breaking into it this time.”

I huffed loudly, annoyance scrunching my nose into a sour disposition. Just then, a stupid, but incredibly amusing idea popped into my head. A devilish grin spread across my lips.

“ If you don’t put down the dagger, I’ll come take it from you,” I threatened, dragging out the words slowly..

Lucien scoffed, picking the dirt from underneath his fingernails with it.

“ Yeah, right,” he replied, not bothering to make eye contact.

Fine.

I hadn’t planned on doing things the hard way, but if that’s how it was going to be, then so be it. I slowly stood, rising from the water with confident, bold strides. Breasts bare, unashamedly exposed, I rung out my hair, continuing my strutt out of the river. The sound has Lucien turning his head towards me.

His eyes widened, taking in my naked figure. Shock was blatantly plastered across his features. He scrambled to his feet, abruptly turning his head and averting his eyes from me.

“ God Fluer! What the hell!”

Good. I’d surprised him.
That's twice now.

A small laugh left my mouth, easing myself gracefully the rest of the way out of the water. Water dripped from my body, the warmth of the humid air wrapping around me like a warm towel. I held out a petty hand, nudging his side.

“ The dagger, please,” I commanded.

He reluctantly dropped it into my palm, eyes still squeezed shut, shaking his head. “ What is wrong with you?” he interrogated.

“ A lot of things,” I mused, snatching the dagger into my grasp. “ Besides, why do you care. You’ve already seen me naked once.”

His cheeks turned red as he awkwardly cleared his throat. “ Yes, well— Let’s not make that a habit,” he replied, scratching the back of his head.

The words hit me funny.
What the-?

I shook off the feeling, moving towards my dry clothes.

“ You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you out here?” he chimed, hands now lifted to cover his eyes.

Mostly dry from the heat, I stepped back into my gown, shimmying the garment up my sticky skin. “ I missed the part where I was supposed to report back to you,” I replied, huffing as I attempted to secure my corset.

A low chuckle. “ You’re a fiery little thing, aren’t you?” he replied, flashing a row of polished white teeth.

I stopped fumbling aimlessly with the strings, my fingers unable to secure the ribbon. I whirled around to fully face him, about to solicit his help. A silly smile spread across my face when I saw him, standing there, both hands over his eyes, waiting like a fool. A seven-foot, immortal beast tapping his boot impatiently like a little school boy in line.

“ You look so stupid right now,” I said, giggling. “ Open your eyes, idiot.”

He obeyed, dropping his hands from his face.

“ Now be a gentleman and help me fasten my corset,” I demanded, turning my bare back to him.

He scoffed. “ I’m skilled in many ways, but tying ribbons has never been my strong suit.”

“ I’m sure, living two hundred years and all, you could figure it out,” I replied, dismissing his rebuttal. “ Go on!”

He stepped closer, his body heat meeting my skin. That smell, his smell, wafted around me once more. I stuffed down any inappropriate thoughts as his rough fingers found the ribbons. He tenderly pulled and fumbled with the strands, his hands brushing slightly against my bare skin. My body betrayed me, chills forming along my arms, flutters dancing along my stomach line.

Stupid, stupid dream.
He continued struggling, making agonizingly slow progress. I could feel his eyes pinned to my lower back, the hesitancy in his touch, as if I would shatter if he pressed too hard.

“ So,” his gruff voice spoke, “ Now will you tell me why you're out here?”

I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, my mind desperately trying to stay focused. God, this was humiliating. Lucien would never consider thinking of me in…that… sort of way. I needed to pull myself together. I cleared my throat, thinking of the right words to say.

Hesitantly, they began to form and fall from my mouth. “ I, umm. I was burying his memory,” I said quietly, my voice a tad shaky.

Lucien was quiet, as if his silence suggested he understood the symbolism. “ I see.”

“ It felt wrong. Burying him without a true honoring of his death. I thought it was the right thing to do,” I stammered, my eyes fixed on my bare feet.

“ You honored him well,” he murmured from behind.

The confirmation had my heart swelling with loss once more. Lucien’s words assured me that all the heartache was a seed well planted. Neither one of us said anything for a moment, the space between our words holding a mutual understanding. Finally, I spoke.

“ I learned more about Edwin’s killer,” I started. Lucien's hands paused momentarily, taking in my words. “ He spoke to me, in a dream,” I lied, “ The killer, his sword, he said it bears an emblem— a single flame illuminating the darkness.”

Lucien finished tying the bow. I turned to face him, his brows furrowed, lip pressed into their usual serious line. “ Hmm.”

I continued on. “ He told me the killer said, ‘ Even the dark has its watchmen’. Does that mean anything to you?”

Lucien's jaw feathered, eyes unfocused as the gears turned in his mind. “ I’ve never heard that phrase before,” he finally said.

Hope deflated slightly within me. I had thought he would know something about what it could mean, but it was clear on his face, even in all his years, that Lucien truly was stumped.

“ Edwin gave me the next steps,” I lied again, taking the opportunity to insert my own agenda.
“ He told us to seek out an oracle that goes by the name of The Viel Mother. She will have answers for us.”

I hated lying to him, but this was the only way, especially after he tracked me here. I cared for Lucien, but if I wanted answers, I had to do this.

He stiffened at the name. “ Mother Viel is not to be messed with. She is one of the founding witches, an original. She’s walked the Earth since the beginning of time. It would not be wise to cross her, even with all the training in the world,” he warned, shaking his head solemnly. “ Are you certain that was Edwin speaking to you? Dreams can be used as weapons, you know. It could be a trap.”

“ I’m positive, Lucien,” I reassured him, grabbing hold of his forearm. “ I know it was him. I could feel it.”

“ There are those we call Dreamwrights, Fluer. They are gifted with the ability to infiltrate and manipulate your dreams. They can create narratives and even project visions, pulling things from your subconscious so that it’s impossible to differentiate between what is real and what has been woven. There are few of them left, but it’s still a possibility. What if the killer himself planted this dream in your head? ” he explained, concern brushed across his harsh features.

“ Well, do you know of any in this area?” I prompted, trying to dispute his claim.

“ No to my knowle-”

“ Well then, there’s your answer,” I interrupted, “ Lucien, I’m telling you, it was him.”

He sighed. “ I don't like this. It's risky and a hell of a lot more dangerous. And you…you’re barely trained. You’d be more of a liability than a reinforcement.”

“ Hey! I think you forgot I took down a skinweaver all on my own. I can handle myself,” I stated, crossing my arms.

His eyes met mine, mouth twisting. “ No, you got lucky! A whole pack of skinweavers is nothing compared to Mother Viel. You can’t imagine the sinister things she’s capable of.”

I shuttered. I actually could. I rubbed my thumb along the jagged scar down my wrist where her ritual blade had pierced my flesh.


“ Besides,” Lucien continued, “ Even if we managed to survive. What makes you think she will be willing to help us?”

I knew she would. I had something she had already tried to take. My eyes barreled into his own, holding a desperate plea. “ Edwin wouldn’t have instructed me there if it wasn’t going to work. Please, I need you to trust me on this. We need to find her!”

“ No,” he stated, shaking his head. “ It’s too dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.”

“ Well, do you have any other brilliant ideas on how to find the killer? Because I don’t!” I barked back.

He didn’t respond. His silence said enough.
“ That’s what I thought. Now you can either help me or not, but I am going with or without you!” I huffed, storming past him.

He caught my wrist in his hand, halting me in place. I tugged at his strong grip hopelessly. “ Let me go asshole!”

“ And just how do you plan on tracking down this witch all on your own?” he questioned, refusing to loosen his grasp.

“ I’ll find a way!” I seethed through gritted teeth.

He released a large breath, letting go of my wrist. “ Alright then. I don’t like it, but I also don’t like the thought of you on a suicide mission on your own. I’ll pick you up tonight, let’s say eleven thirty this time. We’ll go from there.”

Relief washed over me. He’d taken the bait. Now…I’d face the most frightening reality of them all…myself. I stuffed away my fear, putting on a casual mask.

“Fine then,” I said plainly. The thought of Lucien caring for my safety seeped in, provoking my next words.

“You know,” I hummed, beginning to pace around him. “ If I were a stranger listening to you, I would think you were asking me out on a date.”

He huffed out a laugh. “ If hunting down a centuries-old, violent witch is your idea of a date, well…you’re just as twisted as I am.”

A smile caught on my lips. “ Are you admitting to it then?”

“ Fluer Undergrove, you are a meddler. I will see you tonight,” he scoffed, and turned to leave.

I watched his towering, black figure stride to the treeline and disappear down the path.

He never denied it.


(BREAK IN TEXT)

I was here. Frozen on the manor steps, staring at the half-empty door frame. I mounted the last few stairs and crossed the threshold, the cool breeze of the fans blowing through my wet hair and chilling me to the bone. I stepped over the broken door panel, the thick scent of tobacco smoke clinging to the air.

The Duke….
He was home.

The lighthearted banter with Lucien had worn off and was replaced by a familiar, creeping fear that was usually paired with black polished shoes and a perfectly trimmed mustache. Lead settled in my gut. This was a loose end I wasn’t sure I could tie up. I displayed an unnatural amount of strength in front of Aurelia and Sonnet. My magic had leaked out, curtains drawn for an audience at that. I had witnesses, witnesses that were not bound by loyalty but driven by jealousy and vindictiveness. Not to mention James’s surprise appearance this morning. There would be no mercy.

I crept as silently as I could along the hard, cold floors to reach the stairs. There didn’t look to be any servants around, so perhaps my arrival had not been announced to him. I inched up the first step. A loud creak came from the stairs, betraying my location.

Shit!

“ Miss Undergrove,” called a voice.

A small squeak escaped me, jumping from fright at the unexpected voice. A servant girl stood below the rail, arms full of folded linens.

“ Duke Undergrove has requested your presence in his study, Miss,” she said nervously and curtsied.

Even the maid was frightened. There would be no sneaking out of this. I had to face him head-on, and it would be better to do it now. He would likely banish me to my rooms once he finished ripping into me. Once I was there, I could slip out to meet Lucien. I donned my usual facade and layer of skin and eased down the steps.

Each step felt like a betrayal of my instincts, my body screaming at me to turn around as I made the familiar walk to his study. The smell of tobacco thickened as I reached the door. I paused before entering, heart lurching in my chest. This wasn't going to be pretty. Just a precaution, I slid Lucien's dagger free from my gown. Hoping no one would happen upon it, I tucked the blade under the hallway rug. I knew Aurela would not dare leave out the part where I threaten her with it. The Duke would surely confiscate it. Better to leave it hidden, for now.

I knocked—a moment of silence. My heart thumped faster, the blood pumping in my ears deafening. I had faced monsters before; I could do it again.

“ Enter,” Father called from inside.

I reached for the knob. My finger became heavy, as if my magic was warning me, urging me to leave. I pressed on, ignoring the impulse and swinging the door wide to reveal the dim, smoky study. The Duke stood behind his desk puffing his cigar and gazing out the large, arched window before him. The sunlight caught the smoke just right, almost resembling fog and carrying an uneasy presence with it.

“ Close the door, Fluer,” he commanded, his voice low and lethal.

I obeyed, clicking the heavy oak door closed.

“ You’ve caused quite a stir in the manor this morning…for more reasons than one,” he spoke leisurely into the air, his back still turned towards me. Somehow, every word he spoke, no matter how soft, still managed to fall like a threat. I knew they were not empty.

I did not respond, simply remaining still in the center of his study, hands clasped to my sides. Knots twisted inside me, coiling around old wounds and stirring the release of fear. I’d told myself not to be scared of him over and over, and yet every time we had these chats, my resolve would break. It was a deathly cycle, one I was stuck in, afraid to remove myself from it in the presumption of the worse consequences that would follow. I knew I was better than this, but every time I saw his face, cruelty etched along his eyes and tightened at the corners of his mouth, I was suddenly microscopic. He went on.

“ I feel as if I have lent you too much grace, for you seem to take advantage of my goodwill,” he continued, pacing gradually along the window and round his desk towards a bookcase.

Goodwill.
The man was messed up in the head. Is that what he called slamming me into the foyer wall and tearing into my skin with his ring? That…was mercy?

He ran his fingers along a row of books, stopping on an emerald green one, bound in a velvety fabric. It was larger than the others, maybe even out of place now that I was really looking at it. He tilted the book back.

Click.

The sound of gears turning behind the case echoed through the small room as the bookcase morphed into some kind of secret door. I watched with hesitant curiosity as he swung it wide, revealing a small metal safe.

“James’ arrival this morning is cause for rumor alone, but a knife to your sister’s throat…” he clicked his tongue in disapproval, as he spun the combination code. “ You force my hand, daughter of mine.”

I flinched at his words. There was no escaping this. I was in deep shit.
He opened the small safe, his tall figure blocking most of my view inside, and removed a mysterious object. Securing the lock once more, he turned to face me, holding a slender jeweled knife in his palm.

My blood went cold.

“ I think it only fair, your punishment resemble your sins,” he mused, turning the blade over in his hands. “ Sit down!”
My pulse began to race, ice spreading over my limbs. I stumbled backwards as he approached with the weapon. Whatever lesson he would going to teach me, I knew would be excruciating and slow.

“ Father, please–”

“ Silence!” he hissed, dark eyes flashing with promised pain. “ Don’t make me ask you twice.”

I sat in the chair behind me, obediently, breath coming in shallow, shorts burst. Tears threatened to form as fear ran rampant through me, tearing through my thin layers of armor. My stance was rigid, upright, afraid to move an inch as he paced around me in long, poised strides. His polished steps stopped behind me and I felt him croach behind the chair.

“ What are you going to do to me?” I asked, my voice coming out shaky.

I could feel his slimy smile growing with my question. “ What I should have done a very long time ago,” he whispered into my ear, his vile breath hot on my neck. “ Perhaps if you have a permanent reminder of what happens when you disobey me, you will not forget so easily.”

My body began to tremble. “ Don’t touch me,” I said, through gritted teeth.

A sinister chuckle rumbled out of him, his hands finding my wrists on either side and trapping them in a death grip. Salt stung my eyes, my skin crawling with every small touch.
“ Let me go!” I commanded, writhing against his grip.

“ I’m afraid you did this to yourself,” he replied simply, enjoying every sick moment.

Before I could think, a frayed rope was being wrapped around each wrist, securing me to the chair. I thrashed widely against the bindings, yanking with all my strength. An exasperated groan left my lips, whipping my head fiercely around in fear of what was to come. I couldn’t see him. I was stuck, helpless to defend myself, tied down to the chair.

“ Shhh, shhh, shhh now. There’s no use in fighting it. You must welcome your consequences, reform your rebellious heart,” he coaxed from behind, securing each knot impossibly tight. The course bindings rubbed against my skin, cutting off my blood circulation.

“ You’re sick,” I spat at him, a single tear falling down my cheek, my chest rising and falling with rapid rhythm.

He rounded the chair and faced me head-on, dagger in one hand. “ And you, you are disobedient,” he retorted, yanking my head back with a fistful of hair and bringing the tip of the thin blade under my chin.

Another tear fell, my face schooled into unrelenting stone. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my screams. I held my head high as he pinched the tip into the tender skin, causing me to wince slightly. Sharp, pinpoint pain erupted, hot liquid welling and dripping down my neck. His eyes followed the trail, his smile growing with great pleasure.

He dragged a finger across the blood and held it into the light. “ Curious color,” he mused, studying the inky drop. “ I thought I had imagined it before. I see now that I was wrong.”

My heart threatened to tear clean through my chest as he smeared the navy blood between his thumb and pointer finger, my resolve dissolving into thin air.

What did he mean before?
When he’d cut my cheek? Had he seen it then?

Oh god. Oh god.

“ That explains the door then,” he growled, trailing the tip of the blade to the hollow space between my collar bones. “ Shall we discover more?”

Frigid cold shot through my body, prickling down my limbs as his words met my ears. He knew. He knew something was off, that I…that I was different. He’d speculated before, but now, I could see him drawing conclusions in his mind. His eyes flicked to the dagger.

“STOP!” I screamed, my body trying to crawl out of my skin.

In a painful, split flash, I felt the steel slice along my decolletage. I cried out, the sting of the blade unbearably slow. More hot blood welled, dripping down my chest and into my gown. My magic surged, starting to wake, cracking an eye open at the stimulation. I felt the pressure form in my finger, trailing through my arm and expanding in my chest. It was faster this time, like a defense mechanism kicking into gear. More tears streamed down my face, fear eating away at my insides like maggots.

“ When you look in the mirror,” he seethed, spit flying into my face. “ I want you to know that you're marked, tainted, a black stain on our family’s name!” His words slammed into me as sharply as the knife.

A second later, he ripped the blade across my skin again, along my collarbone this time, faster. Another cry flew from my throat, the incision burning fiercely.

“ STOP IT!” I screamed, my voice shaken and high. I struggled against the ropes again, all my efforts getting me nowhere. He brought the dagger back to my skin for the third time.

“ Remember what you are,” he boomed, eyes lit with hellfire as he glared into my own.

Another gash across the opposite side. I shrieked in agony, my chest now marred in blood, searing pain throbbing along the injuries.

“ Remember, that you….are nothing!” he sneered.

I was sobbing now, three long cuts coming to a cross on my chest. Hopelessness consumed my body, any chance at defending myself lost to the ropes binding my hands.

“ You are evil!” I cried, body trembling with adrenaline and terror.

He pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief and began cleaning the blade casually, as if it had not just torn gruesomely through his daughter at his own hands.

“ And you have a little secret you’ve been hiding,” he muttered, examining the blue stains covering his handkerchief. His eyes locked onto mine once more, as dark and vile as death itself. “ I have work to do,” he taunted, a long smile curling under his mustache.

NO.
No, no, no, no.
What did that mean? What work?
What was he going to do?

My head spun violently, back sweaty, pressed firmly against the wooden chair as my chest heaved in breaths. I could taste my tears, my chest alive and hot with pain. Fear had infected me, festering and bubbling as the dreadful thought of discovery hovered on my tattered shoulders. I wished with everything in me for Lucien to come barreling in and save me from the monster bound to human form. I silently prayed for him to hear me, my pleading fists pounding for a chance to escape. It did me no good.

The Duke stood to his feet, gliding over to his desk and pulling out a blank correspondence note. He dipped his quill and began to write, addressing someone I did not know. After a moment, he tucked the note in the pocket of his vest and strode towards the door, the key in his hand.

“ Let me go! You can’t just leave me in here!” I yelled, eyes wide with terror, thrashing against my bindings.

He stopped at the door, dusting an invisible speck from his shoulder. “ I certainly can and will,” he retorted, “ I can’t have you running around Innswood and causing scenes now, can I? I’ll deal with you properly when I get back. Don’t even think about screaming for help, either. I had this room soundproofed many years ago.”

He stepped out of the door.

“ No! Wait!” I screamed after him.

It was useless.

The door clicked shut, and with it the sound of the lock turning in the keyhole.