Page 28 of Owned

The grimoire’s rattle echoed in my mind.

“Shut up,” I muttered and took another step.

But the monster in my mind wouldn’t be silenced. It slithered closer, wrapping around my thoughts, squeezing tighter with each beat of my heart.

Keep going.

The idea had bloomed in my mind in the early hours of the morning.

Whatever Lucian was planning—I needed to know.

I needed to know something.

I was tired of justexistingin this tomb house, haunted by shadows and memories that I couldn’t escape. This wasn’t living. It wasn’t even survival. If I didn’t dosomething, I was going to lose my mind.

It was well past midnight, and the hallways seemed narrower in the darkness.

Only a few lanterns were lit, and their flickering light didn’t travel far beyond the stone alcoves.

Quaint.

Romantic.

Idiotic thoughts I might have had when I’d first arrived here.

Now I knew that everything in this house worked against me.

The silent servants. The shadows.

They all did Lucian’s bidding. They were all watching me on his behalf.

I passed the library where my stepbrothers usually brooded—plotting and scheming—but the room was dark and the fireplace was cold.

I’d heard their motorcycles roar away from the mansion hours ago… they hadn’t spoken to me for days.

I could sense them through our blood bond—but I didn’t know what they were thinking, or what they were planning.

The grimoire had shown me ways that I could check on them—do some spying of my own—but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Why was the hallway so long?

Every inch I traveled seemed to be achieved in slow motion, and my heart thudded painfully in my throat as I dragged my fingers along the stone wall.

Lucian’s study doors loomed in front of me, impossibly tall.

And probably locked.

I paused in front of the doors and laid my hands against it.

The wood was cool under my palms and I could feel the vibration of his wards and the dark magic that protected the room.

How was I supposed to get past this?

I leaned closer, breath catching as I felt the pulse of energy that thrummed through the thick wood. It was unnerving, but intoxicating. The grimoire whispered again, its voice a seductive hiss that coiled around my thoughts.

“Take what you want.”

I could almost see Lucian’s pale eyes narrow with delight at my hesitation, the shadow of his predator’s smile hovering just out of reach. Anger flared inside me suddenly and I straightened and focused on the wards—they shimmered with malice and the grimoire’s whispers rose sharply. It recognized this power.

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