Page 77 of Corrupt Shadows

This is the closest Ezra and I have physically been to each other in a decade. And before that, well, it’s not like we were ever mentally close either. He is responsible for much of my misery. It may not have been his idea to cage me, drain my magic, and allow my bones to wither in my husk like skin… but he didn’t stop it either.

Ezra thinks he can slither into my realm and threaten us? Never. I do not know what his or my other brothers’ end game is, but the next time my eyes land on any of them, I will break each and every one of their necks.

I remind myself that Ezra houses the same magic I do, and even though he isn’t as strong, he’s still a huge threat.

Searing hatred blackens the edge of my vision. I close my eyes, breathing in and out deeply while attempting to rein in the madness of my blood-soaked demands. My demonic nature feeds forcefully into my mind. It squeezes on my brain rhythmically, and I fear if I give in, by even an inch, I will defile my little witch with my claws and hang her above the mantle like a trophy.

I refuse to ride shotgun in the back of my mind, unable to control the weakness my madness has always been. I cannot protect her if I allow myself to give in to the lunacy. Plus, if she ends up as a corpse, I’ll be trapped in the Shadow Realm for eternity.

I bite my lower lip, my razor-sharp teeth piercing through the tender flesh as my out-of-control emotions drive part of my mind and body. I need time to plan how to tackle Ezra, the conniving bastard.

Irrational panic surges through my blood. Fuck, I let her walk off unprotected, even after the godsdamn snakes. I scramble to find the bond between us, then grab it and race into her mind. I sigh, the bubble of anxiety in my chest deflating. She’s sleeping, for once almost peaceful, and in my bed as she was told. So she does know how to do what she’s told.

Her mind is quiet with a thankfully dreamless slumber. I won’t enter her head tonight. I can’t get sucked into a delicious nightmare or sexual fantasy right now. I must prepare for my brother.

THIRTY-TWO

Lorcan

I lie back on the gray pillows of the guest bed and stretch my legs, groaning. There’s no sign of Ezra anywhere in the perimeter. I can’t even sense his magic. Wherever he is in the Shadow Realm, he’s staying out of sight.

He should have more sense than to come here. I just need to wait for Evie to find the hidden pages of instructions so she can fix the mirror, and to practice using her magic for the spell.

Her great-aunt trapped the spell in one of her grimoires, ensuring it’s only revealed to a Fallenmoore witch. I’m surprised they didn’t smash the mirror once trapping me inside, but if my brothers were involved, which I highly suspect they were, then they wouldn’t want to break that connection forever. No, they loved control too much for that—especially Ezra.

I shake my head. I only hope the spell is in the grimoire in the library and not the one hidden in a drawer in the spare bedroom. In there, the detailing of my relationship with her great-aunt fills several pages. If Evie finds out, she’ll never let me touch her. She won’t believe that I crave her more than any witch I’ve encountered, and that my attraction to her has nothing to do with the likeness of her great-aunt.

I sigh, my body relaxing deeper against the mattress. I need to tread lightly if I wish to succeed in ridding myself of this realm forever. Fuck, I cannot wait to strike the match and watch it implode.

Evie is not to be underestimated. If I push too hard too fast, she’ll shut down everything that is brewing between us. We both need space to sort shit out within ourselves. “Hence why I am in the guest room and not balls deep inside my little witch right now,” I grumble.

But before I can feed my constant need for her again, I must see about the whereabouts of her bat. If I don’t, it’ll be sure to bite me in the ass later. She’ll never relax enough to explore her magic if she’s too busy worrying over Fluffy Fucker.

I reach for my connection to Aiden. I traverse the bond into his mind and scan the surroundings through his eyes.

Lights flash to the beat of the deep bass as he sips from his drink. Aiden’s eyes travel the length of the body next to him, focusing on his slender hips and toned muscles visible through his white T-shirt. Aiden’s thoughts steadily stray into the gutter, so I interrupt him before things progress any further.

“Where the fuck are you?”

He jumps, knocking his tumbler into the person next to him. The sticky concoction spills over the rim and onto their phone and lap.

“Jesus Christ. Why do you always have to do that?” Aiden asks aloud.

The bar patrons around him slowly move away. I chuckle darkly. “Calm down and get to somewhere you can focus and speak to me properly.”

Aiden stands, the legs of the bar stool scraping the floor. He weaves through the crowd of drunken humans toward the men’s room. He opens the door, and what looks disturbingly like human feces litters the floor. The pungent stench of urine clogs Aiden’s nose.

“Stop,” I order loudly as someone slams into his back.

Aiden catches himself on the doorframe, then steps to the side and holds the door open for the rude bastard behind him.

“Get the fuck out of there.”

Aiden mumbles to himself about unbearable overlords as he exits the building. His mind clears a bit as he breathes in the fresh, cold air.

The parking lot is overflowing with cars. Several vehicles are double-parked. Gravel crunches under his sneakers as he stumbles slightly to his car, drops his keys, and cracks the back of his head on the driver’s side mirror. Once he climbs inside, I waste no time before I set siege on his mind.

“Lock the doors. Don’t you know the type of psychopaths out there who could be waiting to hide it in your back seat and slit your throat?”

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