Page 141 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
From the darkened corner of the room, Jarek emerged from the shadows. Tonight, he was dressed in his usual attire of all black, the shirt was fitted, the pants were tapered. Chains were cuffed to his boots, and a cape of sleek raven feathers fell from his shoulders, pinned in place by a pair of matching skulls with onyx eyes. He sauntered toward her, grabbed a palette of makeup from the vanity shoved against the far wall, then crouched in front of her.
His cologne, the scent of warm woods and amber, was barely enough to disguise the horrid reek of his magic.
Everinne held her breath.
“Can’t have you performing tonight without everyone seeing that pretty face of yours, now can we?” He dipped his finger into a swatch of pale gold paint with shimmering rainbow flecks, streaking it across the apples of her cheeks.
She stiffened at his touch, struggling to free herself from the bonds he’d tied around her wrists and ankles. “Let me go. I can put my makeup on myself.”
Another click of his tongue. “Unfortunately, you lost that privilege since you didn’t show up for work tonight. I had to send my minions to track you down, though it was easy enough since my imprint is on your arm.”
Everinne scowled. “What imprint?”
“My ring,” he clarified, showing her the back of his hand, where a skull ring glinted in the low light, its ruby eyes glowing like fire. “The one I marked you with in the Marzena a couple nights ago. I should’ve branded you sooner, honestly. It makes it so much easier to hunt you.”
Hunt.
Realization turned the blood in her veins to ice.
Jarek was the hunter. He was the one hunting the fae, hunting vampires and witches. He was the reason the immortals were disappearing. Suddenly, her tongue felt thick in her mouth, and the sickening sensation of dread wormed its way into her stomach.
“Your performance tonight will be a form of punishment,” Jarek explained, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “Mostly for your failure to keep your blood oath and also for helping Aisling escape my clutches.”
His golden gaze narrowed and demonic power flared bright, snapping and crackling along her skin. “Make no mistake, I will figure out what you’ve done with her. And once I do, I will ensure both of you regret it.”
“You’ll never find her,” Everinne spat out.
He chuckled then, fraying her nerves even further.
“I’m sure you thought the same thing about Zoryana. She was too perfect to pass up. Of course, it was so easy when you led me right to her hut in the Deszvila Forest.” He dipped his thumbinto a pot of ruby lipstick, snared her chin, then dragged his thumb across her mouth, smearing the vibrant color. “A witch with the ability to absorb emotions? How could I say no?”
“If you hurt her?—”
“She will suffer whatever fate awaits her.” Jarek leaned closer then, grazing the side of her face with his knuckles, trailing the cool press of his rings into her skin, all while his other thumb continued to stroke her lips. “But you…I have plans for you, pet. You continuously deny me, and yet my obsession with you only seems to grow. Fear me, run from me, it makes no difference. I’m a fan of the chase, you see, and one day I will make you mine.”
“Fuck off.” She jerked away from him, her back slamming into the chair. “I will never be yours.”
“So much disgust, yet you already know the gentleness of my touch.” His hand fell from her cheek, following the column of her neck, and then even lower so his fingers traced the swell of her breasts. He hooked one finger into her bodice, wedging it between her cleavage. Then he tugged, yanking her forward. “Who do you think dressed you,milazk?”
If her hands weren’t bound, she’d gouge out his eyes with her own nails. Cold rage fired through her, empowered by his audacity, by his absolutely revolting claims. “You fucking?—”
Jarek grabbed her throat then, squeezing painfully so that her lungs screamed for air and tears filled her eyes, slipping down her cheeks. “Mind yourself. There is no one here to rescue you. No one will hear you scream. No one will hear you cry and beg.” His smile was laced with malice. “Only me.”
Everinne thrashed in the chair, her body convulsing and twisting, desperate to break free from his hold. Her throat burned, raw and hot, and she thought for sure he would crush her windpipe. A stabbing ache formed in her lungs and just when she thought Jarek had every intention of ending her life,he eased his grip. It was just enough for her to suck in a greedy breath of air and then he lowered his face to hers, so close, she saw the exact moment the golden rings around his eyes darkened with power.
The terrifying power of a monster. A wielder of shadows. A summoner of demons.
“Let this be my final warning, pet.” Jarek toyed with the silver dagger dangling from her ear, then leaned closer, scraping his teeth along her jaw. “I will brand you. I will mark you in every way possible. And if for some reason I cannot…”
His grin turned wolfish.
“Then I will find someone to do it for me.”
Glamour ensconced Everinne, it shimmered over her clammy skin and ruffled the skirts of the tutu fanning out around her. She stood on a round stage overlooking the grand audience above the menagerie, so close this time, the whispers of those who watched could reach her. They stared in mild interest as she balanced upon the blades strapped to her pointe shoes, swirling their glasses of sparkling wine and whiskey, casting curious glances her way when a haunting melody began to play.
She tried to remember the dances she’d seen the handful of times Veros had taken her to the ballet. The ballerinas moved with such fluid grace, twirling and lengthening their bodies, that watching them dance was like witnessing music come alive. Stretching her arms overhead, she raised her chin, determined not to falter. The sooner she finished this performance, the sooner Jarek would release her, and she could think of a way to get herself out of the Mystic Obscura and back to Atlas.
Without warning, intricately carved mirrors appeared on the outer edge of the stage, sprouting up like flowers. Each one was crafted of gold, the metal twisted to resemble curling vines and blooming petals. They were tall and elaborate, and she might have found herself fascinated by them, were it not for the fact that it wasn’t her reflection they revealed.
