Page 97 of The Sorcerer of Shadowholde

Braziers lit the person just enough for her to recognize him. The man from the tavern, the strange one who stared at her and then disappeared like an apparition that night she’d seen Petran. Dark eyes, light hair, and a disturbing smile on his face.

He said nothing, just scrutinized her as if taking in every detail of her existence. There was something wrong about him, something otherworldly, and it set her nerves on edge. The smile… the smile was positively wicked.

An unseen door creaked open somewhere in the darkness and Vita’s eyes shot towards the noise as footsteps approached.

The air turned icy, her heart pounding in her ears as another man appeared from the darkness.

Amulius.

“Lovely Vita,” he sneered, the low light of the braziers etching the cruelty into his face with harsh shadows. “How I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you.”

He walked up to the bars, then turned back to the man in the cloak, giving him a nod.

Suddenly, Vita was no longer in control of her body. Every muscle twitched, and she began walking forward, step by step, until she stood in front of the Praetor. She watched in frozen horror as hereached his hand in, gently running his fingers across her cheek before gripping her throat.

“You really thought you could leave me? Did I not tell you that you were mine?”

Between whatever magic was controlling her and the hand around her neck, she could not speak. All she could do was wait in wide-eyed terror. She tried to call her magic, slamming her eyes shut and searching for the well of power.

Without warning, Amulius jerked her forward, slamming her face against the rusty metal bars.

Vita whimpered, the whisper of power she was searching for dissipating in an instant.

“Behave yourself. I know about your magic, witch. Did you take me for a fool all these years? Try anything and Spurius will melteverybone in your body.”

A trickle dripped from her nose, and the metallic taste of blood was on her lips. With a glance at the other man—the mage with the wicked grin—she realized how doomed she was. Amulius had been hiding a sorcerer in his company, a man more powerful than she could even imagine. He could force her body to move, to act, could make her sleep with barely an effort. There was no strain in his expression, no tension in his muscles, even as he held her in place.

Amulius pulled her face to the bars, pressing his bitter lips to hers. She was helpless to protest, helpless to fight, helpless to stop him. Even as she tried to focus her control, she knew it was useless. Spurius was powerful, certainly more powerful than she.

Vita would be dead before her magic even had a chance to blossom.

It was over quickly, Amulius releasing her, though her body remained a puppet under the mage’s control.

“Oh, lovely Vita, how excited I am to have you back.” His dark eyes roved over her as if he could see through the cloak and dress that covered her body. “We’ll have to make up for lost time.”

With that, he nodded at Spurius, then returned to the darkness, disappearing without another word. The mage still refused to speak,just smiled at her as he stepped up to the cage, her body still restrained by invisible magic.

“You’re very interesting,” he said finally, the smile turning serious. He reached a hand to her cheek, running it down her neck and shoulder before brushing over her breast. “We’re going to have fun with you.”

Her heart raced, but then her muscles relaxed, Spurius’ grip on her evaporating into the chilly air. Without another word, he followed Amulius’ path out of the dungeon, leaving her cold and alone, the sound of the slamming door ringing through the space for a long while.

As the echo faded, Vita curled into a ball, trying to hold back tears.

Time ticked by, and the realization came on slowly, like a shadow creeping at dusk. She would die down here, without ever telling Verian or Renatus how she truly felt. Was the dismissal worth it? Did she get what she wanted by refusing to see them, refusing to speak with them?

The answer was no.

She wished she’d been able to go to the palace, wished she’d let Verian in the last time he came to see her. Now, her chance was gone, the perpetual drip ringing in her ears as she lay on the cold, hard floor.

CHAPTER 42

Verian

VERIAN GUARDED THE BRONZE doors of the Curia, swallowing his questions like a good soldier. The duty roster had changed unexpectedly this morning, and he’d been directed to the city council chambers, the brick-faced concrete building with a portico held up by enormous marble columns.

Bile settled in his throat, an uneasy sensation consuming him since he’d been unable to locate Vita last night. He’d inquired at the inn and tavern, but no one had seen her since the previous evening. At first, he’d assumed she’d gone back to the palace, but when he awoke this morning, he couldn’t shake the sense of dread that shrouded him like a veil.

She would never have left without telling him; he knew that for an absolute fact. She wouldn’t let him worry, wondering where she’dgone, no matter how upset she was. The pit in his stomach widened as he stood at the doors, desperate for his shift to be over so he could look for her once more.

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