Page 177 of Owned

“It won’t work,”the grimoire replied.“He’s too strong. You know that. They don’t— He’ll expect treachery. He wants it. But you can still surprise him.”

Panic streaked through me.

“How?”

“Let me show you—”The grimoire’s presence in my mind had always been a coiled serpent, hiding just beyond the shadow of my thoughts. Its voice had always been obscured from me. A chorus of whispers.

But something was different.

It was different.

I slid from the bed and winced as my feet touched the cold hardwood. My skin was itchy with sweat and crusted fluids, and my hair was a tangled mess, but I didn’t care. I retrieved my robe from the floor where Titus had tossed it and pulled it around my shoulders as I walked across the room to the vanity where the grimoire lay.

“I thought I’d put you away—” I murmured.

I distinctly remembered sliding it under my bed before the seamstress came to do the dress fitting.

But here it was… waiting for me.

I sank down into the chair and pulled the blackened silver dagger from the spine with a practiced motion.

I barely noticed the sting of the blade as it sliced into my palm. A routine. Nothing more.

This used to frighten me.

Now it was an irritating ritual—a waste of time when all I wanted was to run my fingers over the ancient pages of the cursed book.

“Patience,” the grimoire purred as dark drops of blood fell onto the lock.

Irritation rippled through me. “I don’t have time.”

I pressed the blade deeper into my palm as the clasp fell open with a sensual sigh. The cover flipped back and the pages turned, hungry for my sacrifice.

My blood dripped onto the pages and pooled briefly before it soaked into the parchment.

The spells revealed themselves slowly—familiar formations and symbols—but that wasn’t what I wanted.

“This isn’t what I want,” I said. “Show me.”

“More,”the grimoire whispered.

The chorus of voices had coalesced into one.

Stronger.

Smoother.

Familiar.

I bit down hard on my lip and cut quickly. Slashing at the side of my hand and my wrist. Blood dripped down my hand and wound over my pale skin in dark rivers before it fell onto the page.

The grimoire drank deeply.

Greedily.

“Do you see?”the presence in my mind murmured.“This is what was hidden from you—”

My hand shook as the dagger fell from my fingers and dropped onto the floor. I barely noticed the spatter of blood that struck my bare leg.

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