Page 187 of Dark Souls

“What?” Hana gasped.

“That’s if you want me to?” he offered, almost timidly. I smiled at the change in such a cocksure man. Hana already had him wrapped around her little finger.

“I… I do. Of course, but it’s a huge thing to do, and we barely know each other.”

“I know enough,” Ronnie responded. “I know that I want to spend every day as long as you’ll have me right by your side. I know how I feel about you.”

“I really am going to need a sick bucket if I have to spend any more time with these two. You should see the way they are gazing longingly into each other’s eyes right now.” Leif clicked his fingers. “Hey! Soppy bollocks. Yes, you. Slight problem with that heroic offer. Hana is not in control of her shifts. We don’t have the original spell to use with the sigil to force her to shift into her demon. Therefore, you cannot mate and drink with her demon, nor give your soul to her.”

Ah, fuck. Leif was right. The reality suddenly sunk in that Hana could never shift into her demon again unless we got our hands on the original spell created by the Anderson sisters.

“Keep trying to unpick that spell, Leif, and confirm that I’m right about the souls. If I texted Lia right now, would she be suspicious of you?”

“At 5am? Nah, she’d think I was drunk and asking for a booty call. Very in my nature.”

“I’ve never been so thankful to have a fuckboy as my brother.” I hung up the phone and started typing what would seem like a drunken booty call text to Lia, asking her to meet me (me being Leif) in an abandoned car park in Soho.

“Ilaria, what are you doing? We talked about this. We have a plan to confront Mitchell in the morning.” Grandpapi frowned.

“No. You have a plan. I have a different plan. One that doesn’t involve sitting around and doing fuck all.”

He placed his hand on my arm as I peered up from the phone. His brown and blue eyes bored into mine, pinning me in place with the natural authority he always had. As a child, it was enough to always make me submit. But I wasn’t his little princess anymore.

“Don’t even try to stop me from saving him, Papi.”

His hand slid down my arm, towards my hand, where he gripped it tightly and rubbed the enchanted skull ring with his thumb. His eyes glowed purple with his magic.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Just checking that the enchantment is still in place.”

I dived at his chest, hugging him tightly before I disappeared from between his arms.

Pick A Side

Lia

Iglancedoveratmybedside clock. 5am. Another sleepless night. Another shitty day. Sighing deeply, I peered around my luxurious room, taking in the soft grey walls accented with gold swirling glitter and the floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed the moon to cast a natural glow on everything it touched. The breeze filtered through the delicate and custom-made sheer curtains from Italy, causing me to shiver. Giving up on getting any more sleep, I tugged back the covers and placed my feet in my fluffy slippers that sat regally at the side of my bed every night. I made quick work of making my bed, a habit that only riled my mother to no end.We have maids for that, Evangelia.I could hear her voice snapping in my mind as I smoothed out the plush velvet throw and rearranged the monochrome pillows. No one called me Evangelia except my mother. And she only did it because she knew how much I hated it.

Walking over to my massive walk-in closet, I opened the doors to reveal rows of designer clothes, all organised by colour and season. It’s not like I have had much else to do with my time since I graduated from the Academy. My eyes scanned the impressive collection of shoes, from towering heels to limited-edition trainers, all taking their place on mirrored shelves next to my even more impressive collection of handbags. I righted one shoe that was sitting slightly to the left. There. Perfect. Yet, there would still be a critique. Perfect didn’t exist, no matter how hard I tried to be.

I slouched down on the thick cream carpet with my back against the wall and stared at all the materialistic things I owned. Beautiful things. Things that brought me joy. Did they, though? Maybe once. Maybe when I was young and naïve enough to believe that every new bag, every new pair of shoes or designer outfit was a symbol of my parents’ love. If I wanted to spend time with them, they distracted me with a new toy. I earned a good grade at school; they bought me a new handbag. If I learned a new spell or won in a physical fight during fitness class, they bought me a new car. Anything I wanted, I got. I was the definition of a spoiled rich kid. Look up the term and my immaculately made-up face and long hair extensions would be right next to it, along with the plastic surgery my mum had demanded I get to make me more alluring. Cost didn’t matter. Only how it would make me look. And I wanted to look good for them. Be good for them. Every gift was a message; well done, darling. Until it wasn’t. Until that message became darker and more twisted; prove your worth.

I was raised to expect the world without having to give anything back. My parents meticulously designed everything in my life to flaunt our lavish lifestyle. I have known nothing but the best. I knew I should be grateful for all that I had. I’m not sure when or how it happened, but at some point, none of it meant anything to me. See, I really was a spoiled brat. Because just like I was never enough for my parents, this life was starting to feel like it wasn’t enough for me.And what the fuck do I do with that?When you can have anything in the world, but you have no interest in acquiring any more stuff? Because that’s exactly what it was. Stuff. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t affection. It wasn’t even kindness. It meant nothing. Yet, it was all I had.

My phone buzzed between my legs and I picked it up off the floor to see a text from Leif Anderson. I exhaled as I opened it.

Lia! Babe! Where are you? Fancy a late-night rendezvous? Just the two of us this time ;) No psycho sister appearances, I promise.

I dropped my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. No. The last thing I wanted to do was hang out with a drunken warlock who was depressed and only saw me as good for one thing, just like everyone else. Hooking up. I wasn’t a slut. As much as people liked to believe I was. I didn’t even have my first kiss until I was eighteen. But just like everything else in my life, my love life wasn’t dictated by me but by my parents. Ilaria had every right to her feelings because they were valid. My parents were obsessed with me marrying into an influential and powerful family. And who was more influential or powerful than the royals? No one.

I sighed, typing out a quick reply.

Sure. Where shall we meet?

I’m in Soho. Had a wild night but ready to get out of here. I’ll wait for you in the main car park outside of Yayas. You know it?

On my way. :)

This would be the second time I picked up Leif from a drunken night out. Clearly, I really had nothing better to do. I stood up, grabbed a dress off the hanger and a pair of matching shoes and walked back into my room to dress. Sitting down at my vanity table, which was littered with high-end makeup brands and perfume bottles, I set to work on making my blue eyes pop and my lips look even fuller with the help of pink lipstick. Just as I pouted at my reflection in the mirror, my bedroom door swung open, and my mother came bounding in, casually tossing her fur coat on my bed and carrying with her the scent of fresh peonies and jasmine.

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