Page 74 of Cursed Evermore
A sickening hollow opened inside me, as if the ground had vanished beneath my feet and that sinister vortex from the forest was pulling me in.
The way he looked at me and said those words… like I was nothing more than a tool, a compass to be used.
Bile rose in my throat. What would he do to me?
How would he get my blood to lead him to the ring? The darkness I'd seen crawling across his face and those terrifying black eyes. Would he use that power on me?
Torture me?
Kill me once he got what he wanted?
My heart shut down as the room started to spin and the rising tide of terror threatened to drown me.
Twenty-three days until my next memory reset, and I had no idea if I'd even live to see it.
“What are you going to do to me?” The voice that used my lips to speak no longer sounded like me.
“I’ll let you know in due course.”
Blessed Mother. “What about my father? What happens if you find him?”
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
I bit into my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth in an instant.
Wolfe was going to kill my father.Thatwas the answer. I could see it in his eyes and smell that thirst of vengeance oozing from his pores.“No. Please. There must be some way of getting the truth.”
“I told you thetruth.”
“If you let me go, my grandmother?—”
“No.” He levelled me a hard stare. “No to all of it. I won’t let you go. I won’t take you back to Stormfell to marry your betrothed, and I most certainly will not have mercy on your father.”
“Please.”
“You look like you love your father very much.” The tenderness in his words caught me off guard.
“I do.”
“Now just imagine how you’d feel if my father had killed him. Would you give me mercy if I asked?”
The question struck me silent. My mouth opened, but no words came.
What could I say?
If someone had murdered my father, I would have torn the world apart seeking justice. How could I ask mercy of a son whose father was killed?
The weight of understanding crashed over me like a wave, drowning any argument I might have made.
Wolfe watched my reaction with those piercing eyes, a flash of something like approval crossing his face. “Looks like you’re beginning to understand.” His voice carried an edge of dark satisfaction. “So, here’s how this is going to work: you stay with me until I get my ring back. However long that may be.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“In Vaelthorne, blood crimes are inherited. The sins of the father pass to his heirs. And since the crime was against me and mine, I get to decide what happens to you.”
My insides froze like a river locked in winter, unmoving until the warmth of spring came to set it free.
He waved a hand into the air. As soon as he did, a gold cuff slid around my left wrist, slithering into place like a snake. Then it sealed itself tight, hardening before vanishing beneath my skin. To the naked eye it appeared invisible, but I could feel it there. And when I touched it, it was there. To my horror, the phantom burn lingered beneath my skin. Like the cuff had fused not to bone but to fate itself.
