Page 86 of Corrupt Shadows

I light two candles, placing them on the cabinet next to a pile of clean towels, and step into the steaming water. I grip the edges of the bath, smiling as the heat soothes my aching muscles. I thumb my shoulder, working my way toward the back of my neck. I gaze at the Victorian-style light fixtures on each side of the mirror, holding four long ivory candles. Shadows flicker around the room as the flames dance, rippling a violet hue around me.

I sink deeper into the water. My thoughts quiet, and I feel myself slipping away into memories I’d rather leave forgotten.

My eyes close to the room as I drift, letting my arms float up and the water carry the weight. Despite hating being away from Gomez and Rosa, I surprisingly enjoy being in this realm. I don’t want to be trapped here forever, but I enjoy the quiet. I also have to remind myself that it is filled with demons, and that if it weren’t for Lorcan, they’d likely be here, turning my quiet time into a horror movie.

Not that I’d hate that.

Edward’s words come back into my mind, a memory reaching me from when I was ten. Why can’t you just be normal? I shake my head, refusing to let memories of him ruin my bath time. But not overthinking every moment of my existence has never been one of my strong suits.

It was probably the spiders that tipped him over the edge. My obsession only grew as I got older, and I’d bring spiders into the house. I liked them, they were just misunderstood, and they never bit me. Edward and Antionette hated them, but Caden didn’t mind them. Out of the three of them, my brother was the only one who truly embraced the darker side of me.

He never thought I was weird. In fact, he always looked up to me. His face swims into my mind, bringing with it a deep ache settling in my chest.

He succumbed to the darkness he accepted, and for that, I hate myself. Although, the blame doesn’t rest entirely on me. I was a teenager, and I’d been told for most of my life that I was damaged, broken, and dangerous. Everything that went wrong was my fault, and I mistook control for love.

Being a Fallenmoore witch has followed me in everything I’ve done. If Edward hadn’t forced me to suppress my magic, then I may have gone insane, but at least I wouldn’t have killed five people.

Five people.

I let out a shaky breath, then toe the tap, enjoying the searing burn to my skin. Despite Lorcan’s actions, I never really punished him. I can pretend I hate him for everything he’s done, but if I’m completely honest with myself and accept the fucked-up parts of my mind that I’ve pushed away, I don’t hate him for Jay. I should. I’m a terrible person for not caring as much as is expected. Jay didn’t really do anything wrong, but after seeing so much death in my life, the lines have become blurred.

Because despite every dark thing Lorcan has done, I want him, and that just shows how damaged I really am. With him, I don’t have to pretend to be anything else. He accepts—no, he likes the screwed-up parts of me. He forces them out, challenging my morals and blurring the lines of what I thought was right or wrong.

He’s got evil in him too, and he doesn’t hide it. He’s a demon, and the offspring of an infamous fallen angel at that. I doubt there’s a good bone in his body, yet I allowed myself to believe there was, if only for a few moments.

He understands me. He helps me, in between cruelty and humiliation. There’s a bond between us, formed by demonic attachment or something else, that beckons me closer to him.

That’s why I must leave. Even if it means going back to a life where I hide who I really am from everyone. Self-preservation is stronger than my desire to be close to him, to feel his arms wrapped around me and breathe in his smell, or run my fingers through his choppy, tousled strands.

I roll my eyes at myself and dip under the water, holding my breath. After several seconds, I reemerge and run my fingers down my face.

Lorcan comes into view, leaning in the doorway. “What were you dreaming about last night?”

I tilt my head, not bothering to hide my nakedness, which is mostly covered with bubbles. “Can’t remember,” I say with a shrug, and he paces a step closer. “Why?”

Fuck. My heart stammers, but I keep my expression devoid of emotion. Did he get inside my head? My bracelet was on, made to repel him from my thoughts. I glance at my wrist and wrap the string around my finger. It’s infused with herbs, intertwined with strands of his hair I’d pull from a comb.

He glances at the bubbles, his lips pulling into a tight line. “I could smell your wet pussy when I woke up.”

“Okay?”

His jaw clenches, and I know better than to taunt him, but secretly I like it.

“Honestly, I’m just shocked you didn’t do anything about it.”

The corner of his lip lifts, dimpling his cheek. I gaze at his mouth, wanting to feel it on mine again. He strides to the tub and grips both sides, towering over me. “Did you want me to?”

I’ve always liked the idea of it, but I didn’t dare admit it to anyone. Except now. “Maybe,” I say, then inhale sharply.

His gaze narrows, and I wish I could grab that mask and pull it from his face. If Ezra was right, then Lorcan is hiding his true name under it.

The veins on his hands bulge as he grips the sides of the tub harder, and I can’t help but imagine them around my throat. My magic sparks through my body, reaching the tips of my toes. Every part of me reacts to his presence, and my gaze drifts to his chiseled chest.

What am I thinking? He’s planning on trapping me in here. But if I let on that I know anything, then I’ll lose any element of surprise. He can’t know, and I can enjoy myself until I get out of here.

He leans closer. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he says in a low voice, but his eyes focus on mine, anticipation threading through them.

My muscles tense as I stare back at him, afraid of speaking the truth out loud. The last time I hinted at one of my fantasies was to Jay, and he called me sick. Perhaps I am.

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