Page 144 of Owned

The outline of his spectre was faint at first, and then it cleared.

A woman stood over him and her mouth moved with ghostly whispers.

Valen was frozen, every line of him tense and unbelieving.

I reached out with my magic and the illusion’s voice cleared and echoed in my ears.

“Why didn’t you try to find me? Why didn’t you look—”

Her voice was soft and mournful and I struggled to place her image in my mind—she was familiar, but why?

Valen shook his head, as if denying her words.

“You don’t belong here, Valen,” she said. Her image flickered like a dying flame as she reached for him. “You’re not like him— You’re not like them.”

I watched him, watched the torment in his eyes.

“You should have done something,” she said. “Avenged me— But you didn’t. You were too weak.”

His shoulders sagged, and I saw him waver, like he might shatter into nothing.

Lucian’s illusion had been hard enough to break, but this— this one was hitting Valen harder.

I grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet. He fought against me, but only for a moment.

“It’s a trick,” I said through gritted teeth. “An illusion— Lookthroughit. Force it back. Find the crack in the spell. There’s a traitor on the other side of it.”

He looked at me, dazed, unsure, then nodded as anger crept into his expression.

“Whoever that is… it’s not real,” I said.

Valen’s eyes narrowed, and then the pale blue threads of his magic wrapped around his forearms and snaked across the stones toward the spectre. The illusion appeared not to notice at first, and then its sweetness evaporated as the woman’s mouth opened to scream.

“Youdareto stand against me? With the spawn of my murderer! A betrayer— Just like your father—”

Valen’s jaw tightened. “Find the crack,” I said firmly. “Focus on the caster—they’re weak. Frightened. Desperate. They know we’re coming and that they won’t survive.”

The woman’s form shimmered and her anger became a scream of pain as Valen’s magic tightened around her. Amoment later, the illusion collapsed and dissipated. Valen staggered, but caught himself.

“What the fuck—”

“Shake it off,” I said. “Where’s Bastian—”

Valen pointed.

“There.”

He was on his knees, alone, at the top of the stairs.

He hadn’t seen us yet, hadn’t felt the world outside the trap.

I left Valen and went to him, ready to pull him out of it.

But then I stopped.

He was talking, his words were quick and sharp in the quiet. “Get out of my head,” he snarled.

There was no answer. No reply. Nothing but his own voice thrown back at him.

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