Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Lucian guides Hanna gently into a high-backed chair near his desk.
“Sit,” he murmurs, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
She does, slumping slightly, her hands trembling in her lap.
I hover close, unwilling to leave her side.
Lucian crosses the room and opens a locked cabinet set into the stone wall. From inside it, he pulls out something that looks nothing like a weapon—but somehow far more frightening.
It’s a circular device about the size of a dinner plate, forged from blackened silver and etched with fine, spiraling runes. At its center is a disc of smoky crystal—cloudy and dark—shot through with faint veins of greenish light that pulse slowly, like a heartbeat.
The air around it feels colder than the rest of the room, which is really weird and unsettling.
“What is that?” I ask, my voice tight with worry as I take a step back from it. “What does it do?”
Lucian doesn’t look at me as he activates the device, tracing one long finger along the etched runes. The device hums softly, the crystal brightening.
“It is called the Vespar Lens,” he says. “It reveals invisible bindings—marks of claim, ownership, or intent—placed by other magical entities.”
My stomach drops.
“You mean—like a brand?” I whisper, glancing at Hanna.
He finally looks at me then, his expression grim.
“Yes. Exactly like a brand.”
My breath stutters in my throat. What an awful thought!
Lucian steps in front of Hanna and slowly lifts the Vespar Lens. The crystal glows brighter as he passes it over her forehead, hovering just inches from her skin.
The room goes very still and I hold my breath.
Lucian’s jaw tightens as he lowers the device and exhales slowly.
“What? What do you see?” I demand. “What is it? What happened to her?”
Lucian sighs heavily and gives me a grim look.
“It is as I feared.” He looks at Hanna. “I am afraid you have been soul-marked by an emissary of Don Malthus.”
“Soul-marked?” Hanna cries. “What does that mean?”
“Yes, what does that mean?” I echo.
Lucian’s gaze flicks between us and he looks like he wishes there were words gentle enough to soften what he has to say.
“It means that he intends to come and take you at some point,” he says to Hanna at last. “I can keep you safe only as long as you stay within the boundaries of the Crimson Spires but truly, it would be safer for you to be home in the Human Realm.”
“I want to go home but I feel so tired.” Hanna’s face crumples. “Why do I feel so weak?” she whispers. “What’s wrong with me?”
Lucian’s hands curl into fists at his sides.
“I fear that the mark is drawing your essence—your soul—towards the part of the Shadow Realm known as The Hollow Necropolis, which Don Malthus rules.”
“But… but what does that mean?” I cry. “Is Hanna going to disappear?”
Panic claws up my throat before he even answers. This is my fault. All of it.
Hanna wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t come looking for me. She wouldn’t be marked. And most of all, she wouldn’t be fading.
“Not right away,” Lucian says, frowning, as though that makes anything better. “But the sooner we get her back to the Human world, the better.”
“But I thought you said it was a long process—that it was really difficult to achieve!” I protest.
“It is, but there are ways to speed it up. They’re risky, but we’re already in jeopardy, having two Curvy Queens in one place here in the Shadow Realm. I’ll contact Whistler at once,” he says.
His face darkens, shadows carving his features into something fierce and terrible.
“And then I have a call to pay on Don Malthus.”
Fear stabs straight through me.
“You’re not actually going to go over there, are you?”
Images flash in my mind—bone gates…skull-lined halls…the cold kiss of his mask on my hand…
“Not unless he refuses to take my call,” Lucian promises me. “But he will speak to me and answer for this insult. He knows that, as your friend, Hanna is under my protection. There is no excuse for violating the sanctity of my kingdom and attacking a woman who I have sworn to protect!”
His eyes glow like embers banked too long—hot, furious, and deadly.
“Why don’t you take your friend to her room and tend to her?” he says, then hesitates, frowning. “That is… if you’re up to it?”
“I’m not that drunk,” I protest, my cheeks burning.
And I’m not. The fog of wine has burned away, leaving something else behind—a strange warmth under my skin. I feel a lingering flush—a soft, aching awareness between my thighs that makes no sense at all.
But there’s no time to think about that right now.
I move to Hanna’s side and help her to her feet. She leans heavily into me, her arm slung around my shoulders as we make our way toward the door.
Behind us, Lucian is already turning back to his desk, his mind clearly racing ahead to confrontation and consequences.