Page 58 of Grave Revelations

You changed me.It wasn’t a question. No one else could have done it. “These aren’t my clothes.”

“They suited you.”

“Did you steal them?”

“I’m a Prince of Hell. What do you think?”

Heat flared across her fingers, licking up her arms. Her eyes narrowed as she glared up at him.

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. You aren’t your title,” Rebecca began. “You’re whoever you want to be. If you want to be the evil, cruel devil from Primoria, go ahead. Not that I’ve ever seen you lift a finger against someone who didn’t deserve it. But stop using it as an excuse.” She stabbed a finger into his immovable chest. “And don’t use it to justify distancing yourself from me.”

He sat rigidly on the edge of her bed, mirroring her narrowed-eyed stare. The ember pulsing in her chest heated, flaming in response to his challenging gaze.

He twisted, moving until he was beside her, and Rebecca breathed in his scent—like the forest after rain, pine and earth and a light breeze. The ember blazed to a raging inferno as images of his mouth on hers crashed into her mind, his arms around her, pulling her close, their breaths and bodies mingling.

Azazel’s nostrils flared.

Every nerve in her body buzzed at his nearness, but she was afraid to lean the final distance and feel the crushing disappointment of his rejection; if she touched him, he would deny her.

My light in the darkness. I could never deny you.

A tear formed at the edges of her lashes. She blinked it away.You already have. The images of their bodies pressed together melted from her mind, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Azazel groaned, sitting back.You’re the only good thing left in my eternity. I would destroy you.

She sucked in a breath and turned away from him, wrapping her fingers around her suddenly chill arms.

Rebecca.

Her nails dug into her arms as she squeezed them tighter around herself. “Just go.” She sucked in shallow breaths, fighting back the swell of emotion. It was just a reaction to her recent trauma. She’d read about it in a book on dealing with accident victims once. They had an overwhelming adrenaline rush and clung to whatever felt safe in their immediate vicinity.

She took another breath. The stabbing pain in her chest at his rejection didn’t feel like a reaction to trauma, though. It felt like a piece of her soul had been torn from her body.

Wetness pooled along the rim of her lashes and slid down her cheeks as Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut.Stop, she told herself.You don’t care about him.

But she couldn’t hold back the tears this time. She wasn’t sure how long she sat, arms wrapped around herself as warm tears fell, but when Rebecca opened her eyes, she was alone.

Chapter 39

Rebecca

Rebecca slid onto her favorite velvet couch, wrapping a soft cream blanket around herself, and sighed. She’d wanted to be free of her captor, but now that she was alone, she was nearly paralyzed by indecision.

She knew where Elizabeth was hiding but was woefully unprepared to face her. Although the memories of that night were hazy, coming in and out of focus, she remembered one thing: there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of Elizabeth’s creations in those caves.

None were like Simon or Sophia, though. The others had been silent and motionless unless called, standing like statues, awaiting Elizabeth’s command. But something else was scratching at her memory. Something important.

Rebecca closed her eyes, picturing that night.

She lay still when she awoke taking in her surroundings before giving herself away—a trick she’d learned from Simon. Intuition had spiked adrenaline in her veins the moment her brain had cleared from the drug-induced coma long enough to catalog the strange smells and sounds around her.

As she strained to listen for clues, she opened her third eye, taking in swirls of hazy color permeating the space. They mingled together, bisecting one another’s paths, trailing in every direction, but the largest concentration of haze was centered in one place. That was where she would find the restof the coven.

She had opened her eyes, looked down at her wrists, and smiled. Hadn’t her sister learned the first time? Spelled bonds couldn’t hold her.

“Reserare,” she whispered. But the bonds didn’t fall away. Perhaps she’d misjudged the girl. She tugged at the metal chafing her skin, frowning.

Buzzing sounded in her ear, tearing her from the memory.

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