Page 40 of Shadebound
We stared at each other when I stopped flailing. I relented first, but only because I was tired and impatient.
I sighed and spoke in Italian so his friends hopefully wouldn’t understand our conversation. “For such a big man, you act like a little bitch.”
He continued to smirk down at me. “At least this little bitch knows what your friends are hiding from you.”
I stilled, hands clenching at my side. “Excuse me?”
He said nothing as we stared each other down for a solid minute until I lost my patience again.
“Fiore,”I said sharply.“Tell me, or I swear to-”
“Alessandro,”he cut me off.“My name is Alessandro.”
“Great,”I replied, voice flat. “Now I know what to carve on your grave.”
I tilted my head, forcing myself to bite back another snide comment. I needed him to talk, to spill whatever it was Maya and Zayden were keeping from me. So, against my better judgement, I tried something resembling diplomacy.
He just kept standing there, shirtless, scowling. Clearly stupid.
I folded my arms, switching back to English for my convenience when I noticed his friends leave. “I’ve decided to be a rational person. If you say sorry for putting a knife to my throat, and molesting me in my sleep, I’ll forgo all forms of revenge. Seems fair.”
He laughed, accent thick as he said, “You have no magic right now. You’re useless.”
Then, quick as a strike, his large hand wrapped around my throat and he shoved me back into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind us, and I didn’t try to fight him.
Not because I was scared, not because I was terrible at fighting and he was stronger than me. But because I wanted to see what he planned to do before I worked out his punishment.
He let out a deep growl as my spine hit the stone wall. His magic fire crackled to life—blue and ghostly with an oddness that made me wonder what was so special about his dragon. It wrapped around my body, stinging just enough to make my skin flinch. But not enough to truly hurt.
His eyes burned; smoke swirled from his nostrils. His grip dropped as I glanced towards the shelf, spotting something shining in the basket near my hand.
He was unaware that my fingertips were searching as he growled at me.
“I am not apologising to you, Draconis.I’ve worked too hard to let you come in and ruin my life. Just like your bitch sister did. Bells died before I could deal with her, but I sure as fuck have time to make you learn not to get extra time added to my sentence.”
I froze, my body locking in place as his words sank in. My chest tightened with something ugly and cold, and for a second, all I could do was stare at him.
Alessandro knew Bells. Not just the facts anyone could learn from a news article or whispered rumour. My twin wasn’t a headline to him. She had been real, tangible, someone who’d looked him in the eye and, apparently, earned his hatred for more than being born into a family his despised.
The realisation landed like a gut punch. I wanted to ask how. I wanted to yell at him. But more than anything, I wanted to hurt him for daring to speak her nickname like that—like it meant something ugly. Like he had the right.
Bellswas what people who cared about her called her. Not people likehim.
My pulse roared in my ears as my vision blurred, and I forced myself to blink, to breathe, to remember where I was.
Mors Academy.
Bathroom.
No magic.
Just teeth and fury.
But AlessandroknewBells. Not just her legacy as the last victim of the Salem serial killer, who’d brutally murdered thirteen victims and then disappeared the night my sister died.
He knewher. How did I move on from that snippet of information? How did I pretend not to be confused that my twin wasn’t some myth to him? She was real, and he’d called her abitch. Like he’d met her enough to form an opinion. Like he’d hated her. Like whatever had happened between them still festered under his skin a year after her death.
It hit like a slap. Grief rose with the kind of ferocity I’d almost forgotten as I blinked hard, trying not to show how much that single sentence had gutted me.
