Page 142 of The Shadow Wand

Thunder rumbles overhead as I take it all in.

The huge glass-enclosed space has been transformed for the Sealing breakfast, all the decor now awash with red accents symbolic of my deflowering, and I grit my teeth against this intrusive tradition.

Vases of red roses grace the center of every bloodred tablecloth, and ruby glass lanterns hang from the iron stands set beside each table. Even the traditional black silk garb Lukas and I are wearing is edged with intricate, bloodred embroidery, all the red heightened by the dark morning sky with its ominous steel-gray clouds.

As we enter, everyone stands and breaks into subdued applause.

My eyes meet Vogel’s across the room, and a defensive fire rears inside me and bucks hard against Lukas’s shield.

Vogel is standing before the small Ironwood altar from our Sealing ceremony near the arboretum’s western-facing glass wall. An army of soldiers is massed just outside the glass, along with a horde of broken dragons, the dragons’ large black forms facing outward and preternaturally still, like demonic statues.

My gaze slides to the Shadow Wand in Vogel’s hand.

My Wand flares to life against my thigh in an urgent hum that I can feel straight through the cloth it’s wrapped in. A sudden pull accosts me, like a cord giving a small yank from my Wand, through my lines, out through my wand hand toward Vogel’s Wand.

And then my Wand’s tremulous hum blinks out of existence, and the Wand renders itself into deadened, inert wood yet again. As if it’s desperately thrown itself back into hiding.

Aunt Vyvian and Lukas’s family are seated at a table near Vogel, along with what seems like most of the Mage Council. Behind them stand Vogel’s two envoys, the four soldiers magically tethered to him, and an arcing line of Level Five soldiers, all of them regarding Lukas and me with intense focus.

Apprehension grips my throat, pulling it taut.

So many Level Five soldiers, Vogel’s personal guard tripled from last night.

I’ve an amorphous sense of the powerful magery thrumming in the air, the feel of it like a ferocious storm about to blow through, but it doesn’t overwhelm me. Their collective magic hovers around the powerful shield Lukas wove under my skin, reducing their magical press to a slight, uncomfortable pressure and a static tang on the air.

Heart thudding, I lower my gaze to the obsidian-stone tile work on the floor beneath my feet, holding tight to Lukas as we stride down the center aisle toward Vogel.

The polite applause continues as we come to a stop before the altar and I keep my eyes cast submissively down, my breath hitched tight in my chest.

I can sense Vogel’s malefic gaze locked on me.

I can sense his Shadow Wand, its power a low, tide-like pulse.

He seems to have shuttered his magic as tightly as Lukas has walled back his own, no trace of his vast power revealed. For a moment, I frustratedly yearn to possess such control.

Control that would hand me magical dominance over all the Mages in this room, save perhaps Vogel.

I dare a glance up to find Lukas’s parents and self-righteous brother staring at me coldly, while Aunt Vyvian looks me over with conceited triumph, all gazes flowing to the hand I have clasped around Lukas’s.

A stinging flush warms my face. I know what they’re all scrutinizing so intently—the Sealing marks that now flow around both our wrists, our changed lines proof of consummation.

Angry humiliation flares, running hot through my lines. I feel exposed, used.

Like their communal plaything.

Lukas tightens his grip around my hand and lifts it straight into the air, as tradition dictates. The applause surges to life once more, some of the men cheering Lukas on, and I’m aware that I’ve ceased to be a person to all of them save Lukas, who I know despises all this as much as I do. But to them I’m nothing but a thing to be bred on. A conduit of my grandmother’s power, seized for the Grey line. Seized by a family loyal to Marcus Vogel.

Lukas lowers our hands, and the applause and cheers die down.

Vogel smiles at me, then at Lukas, seeming charmed by us. He holds out his hand for mine, and I let him take it as I struggle to suppress a slight tremble, his long fingers oddly warm as they close around mine, and I hold tight to Lukas with my other hand.

I don’t attempt to hide how upset I feel, my lips trembling along with my hand. I know they’ll all read this as proper maidenly anguish—the secrets of the Sealing chamber laid bare and foisted upon innocent me. But, suddenly, I’m boiling with a bottomless fury as Vogel studies my Sealinglines with leering focus.

This man killed Diana’s family. And standing nearby, watching me coldly, is the aunt who killed my beloved uncle Edwin. These are the people responsible for driving everyone I love East, to a fate unknown to me. These are the people forcing me into an escape I don’t even know if I’ll survive.

Fire whips up in my lines and rears against Lukas’s compact shield, one violent tendril of flame breaking clear through it.

Vogel’s lips pull back over his teeth, as if he’s sensed my sudden rush of fire. His eyes flick toward Lukas with approval as he keeps hold of me. “So, you’ve made her yours?”

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