Page 198 of Owned

“Titus. Valen. Bastian,” she intoned, and I gasped as a surge of new magic swept over me. Magic that wasn’t mine, but somehow was… “By your cursed blood, your unfortunate births,your tainted name— I hold your limbs and bend you now.” She stared at the dull shine of the blood-smeared blade as she spoke, and I was mesmerized by the ruby droplets that traced down the cold metal. “Bestill, besilent, beoverthrown. You are bound, and you answer tome.”

The bitter words coursed through me and I strained against the bonds that muffled my awareness, but they held firm. Effortless.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, but the sound was muted even to my own ears.

The entity looked into the mirror—at me.

“So they don’t do anything stupid,” she said with a serene smile.

She held up her arm—my arm—and turned it gracefully. The wound was gone.

Healed so quickly I hadn’t even seen it happen.

“Now we’re ready,” she said.

“No— You can’t—”

“I can,” she replied as she pulled down the lace sleeve of the gown. With a smooth motion, she tucked the dagger into the lace at my hip, hiding it from sight, but I could feel the pressure of it against my hip. A soft smile curved my lips before she turned away from the vanity and my cursed reflection to walk toward the door.

I watched in helpless silence as she opened the door with a wave of her hand.

I felt the swell of magic, but nothing more.

As though I were floating in a pool of gently lapping water.

Weightless.

Powerless.

An observer in my own body.

“Stop this,” I shouted. But the whisper echoed back at me.

“I’m ready,” my voice said.

The women nodded in unison and turned toward the grand staircase.

My footsteps echoed as the entity followed the women down the steps. I strained against my invisible bonds and the magic that lapped at my skin. My heart thundered in my ears and drowned out the oppressive silence that enveloped me.

The unsettling scents of Withermarsh, damp earth and decay, filled my nostrils and mingled grotesquely with the heavy fragrance of dark roses arranged in ominous bouquets—exactly like the ones at my mother’s wedding.

My heart clenched at the memory.

How could he do this—

“The injustice,” the voice murmured in my ear. “I see it everywhere. Your revenge is justified— As is mine.”

The entity had gained more control now, and my steps were smoother, less stilted, as we walked through the foyer toward the grand ballroom.

The double doors were open wide and as I stepped into the room, the similarities between what I saw and what I remembered from the day Lucian had become my stepfather blurred together.

It was all the same. Even the way the shadows that danced across the walls were the same. The same candles in the wrought-iron chandeliers. The same urns filled with flowers. Everything was the same.

Only I was different.

In more ways than one.

The opulence was suffocating. Each gold-threaded curtain and glimmering piece of crystal was a reminder of what awaited me.

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