Page 25 of Seduce Me in Shadow

Bram winces, and his strain shows in the tired lines etched into his face. “No. It’s as if she vanished. I feel…nothing except her absence.”

“But she has not broken your bond?” The last thing anyone needs is for Bram to be in Lucan’s condition. Without him, I fear making my brother whole would be impossible.

“She’s still mine, yet all my attempts to trace her lead nowhere. It’s maddening.”

And odd. Then again, magic can be difficult, baffling, and frustratingly cryptic. “What do you know about her? If she’s human, have you tried human means to trace her? Do you know where she lives, her phone number, relatives’ names?”

“As far as I can tell, everything she told me is a lie.” He scrubs a hand over his tense expression. “I’m going to be forced to call a damn surrogate for energy. Mating is effective; I don’t want any woman but her. Somehow…” Bram breaks off with a shake of his head. “Never mind. I’ll work it out. Go see your brother.”

“If I haven’t said thanks already—” I choke out. I dislike being beholden to Bram, but the words need saying.

“Don’t. Lucan is like family to me, as is Anka. I only hope we can reunite them.”

I’m beginning to fear that’s impossible as I turn to the giant staircase on my left. One step at a time, I trudge up, dread pulsing through me as I climb to the top, then march to the door behind which Lucan lies.

God, I’d rather be anywhere but here.

Taking a deep breath, I lift my hand to the knob of the closed door, wondering how my life has become hellish so quickly. What must Lucan’s be like, suffering the worst day in and day out as his life force drains away?

I open the door. Inside, the drapes are drawn, shutting out the weak twilight sun. The shadowed room reeks of Lucan—an acrid mix of sweat and rage and desperation. The vibrant wizard in his prime has been reduced to a terrible, panting example of magic’s illogic and cruelty.

I’d be furious all over again if I wasn’t so beat down by despair.

Bracing my forearm against the doorjamb, I hesitate. Though I love Lucan and our sibling bond dictates that I care for him, I don’t want to walk in.

When I was a boy, I helplessly watched my younger brother, Westin, die. Laughing toddler one moment, corpse the next. The tragedy was a stab through my heart. The possibility of reliving the trauma of a beloved sibling’s death terrifies me.

A growl sounds from the bed. Cautiously, I force myself to step into the dark bedroom. There, Lucan lies still and chained, naked except for a pair of white briefs. I stare in horror at his gaunt cheeks and pallid complexion.

In the past few days, my brother has deteriorated far beyond what I imagined.

Swallowing my horror, I vow that when I see Sydney again, I’ll focus on nothing but my mission. Screw whatever I’m feeling for her. My first priority must be to find Anka and make Lucan whole.

An adjoining door opens to my right, and Sabelle exits the bathroom in a cloud of humid, perfumed air. She wears a simple white dressing gown, damp hair pinned to the top of her head, water droplets still clinging to her golden skin. Determination stamps her regal features as she strides to a chair beside the bed. When she glances my way and sees me staring at Lucan, regret softens her face.

“Mate mourning isn’t always this way.”

Her whisper is like a blade to my chest. She means to be comforting, reassuring. Instead, her words only anger me more.

“Caden,” Sabelle tries again. “His bond with Anka was so true and deep. He’s hurting now, but he had over a century of joy with a woman he loved. Any of us should be half so lucky.”

“To be reduced to an animal? You would feel lucky to endure this?”

“Mate mourning for a witch works differently. Wizards undergo a period of intense…adjustment. A female suddenly alone is often compelled to seek out another male for comfort, protection, and energy. She doesn’t remember her former mate, but she experiences a sense of loss. She pines. Just not in this way.” Sabelle gestures to my brother.

Meaning that Anka could be anywhere, her memory of Lucan completely gone, and shagging someone else. If the mate mourning doesn’t finish Lucan off, that knowledge might.

Sabelle places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I know you find this unpleasant?—”

“Horrific,” I correct. “He’s a lunatic, and he’s a burden to you. Will he ever again be himself?”

Chapter

Twelve

Regret shadows Sabelle’s expression. “His mate mourning is severe. We’re trying. Honestly.”

“I’m not faulting you. I don’t blame you. I don’t even blame your brother. Lucan knew the risks when he joined the Doomsday Brethren.” Though I’m convinced it never occurred to him that Mathias would rip his mate from him. “I’m simply…frustrated. With every passing day, he’s gotten worse.”

---