by Tricia Barr
The reason for the sad glint in Sebastian’s crystal blue eyes was not her wavering fidelity. He had no idea of her secret desires, even if his best friend Skylar did. No, Sebastian’s sorrow came from worry over her soul, over the threat of losing her in a different way. That only made her feel guiltier.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Phoenyx asked softly, for a moment forgetting that Skylar and Lily were here at all. “We can find another way—”
“This is the best way to keep him happily distracted for a long time,” Sebastian said, nodding against her rebuttal. “He made you a threat the other night. I won’t have you cast as the victim in this game of his. At least this way, you’re the one in control.”
I wouldn’t be too sure about that.
At least if Joran had come to her, she could blame him. If she was the one who made the first move, there would be no one to blame but herself.
What was she so worried about? That she would enjoy it? She always enjoyed sex, there was never a question about that, no matter who it was with. She would enjoy it even more with her own powers of seduction turned against her. Perhaps that was why she felt so strongly toward Joran. Men that she had used her powers on had always held an unshakably strong attraction toward her, even long after the effects of her compulsion had worn off. Maybe she was just suffering the after effects. Maybe she was going through withdrawals.
She sheepishly turned her gaze to her friends, awaiting their judgment. But there was no disapproval in Lily or Skylar’s eyes as they looked at her. But no encouragement either. Just a hopeful hint in their gaze as they waited for her to decide.
“It’s not our place to tell you to do this,” Skylar said, referring to Lily and himself. Skylar, who knew of her internal struggle. “The choice is yours. We could also choose to do nothing at all.”
Phoenyx shook her head instantly. That had never been an option. Would never be an option. She was a fighter. And not all fighting was offensive.
At the very mention of forfeit, Phoenyx knew she had made her decision. She was going to do this. She would push her own limits, if it meant that her friends could save Ayanna from the hell she was in.
“I’ll do it,” Phoenyx said dryly, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “I’ll do it. I’ll keep him distracted for as long as I can. Just send me a mental signal when you’re out.” She braved a look at Skylar to reiterate that she was talking to him.
He gave her a firm nod of solidarity, one that said he understood so much more than just her instruction.
“Be as discreet as you can,” Phoenyx said. “We don’t want to have to clean anything up, and I won’t be there to compel any obstacles away.”
“We will be alright,” Skylar said. “I’m sure the three of us can manage without you.” He smirked at her teasingly.
Phoenyx appreciated the gesture, but she could not manage a smile in return. Why did she feel like she was walking into her own execution?
Lily rushed forward and gave Phoenyx a reassuring hug, squeezing her shoulders before she withdrew.
“Thank you,” Lily said, as if she understood the sacrifice Phoenyx was making. “Everything will be okay.”
Phoenyx nodded.
As soon as Lily was clear of Phoenyx, Sebastian grabbed Phoenyx’s face and pressed his mouth to hers in a long, passionate kiss. It was the kind of kiss that one would want right before death, yet it could take your very breath away. The kind of kiss that said “you’re mine” at the same time that it said “goodbye”.
When Sebastian finally let her go, her vision spiraled and she felt disoriented. She needed to grab hold of his arms to keep from falling.
“That was one hell of a kiss, my love,” she said through swollen lips, breathless.
“So you don’t forget who you’re coming home to,” Sebastian said, all charm in that jack-ass smile.
She loved him so much in that moment, she wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go, to become one with him so she would never have to leave his side.
But she had a job to do.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Phoenyx said, trying to project her overwhelming love for him in her gaze.
“I’ll wait up,” he promised.
“I’d be mad if you didn’t,” she said, her flirtation sparking, revving up for the big show.
And then she turned and left her friends, heading toward the castle.
Ayanna needed her help, and whether Phoenyx liked it or not, this was her role in this war. This was the part she was born to play. Sometimes, she just had to be a lover, not a fighter.
The closer Phoenyx got to the castle, the faster her pulse galloped. Her blood was hot in her veins, flooding her body with a radiating flush.
She was nervous, but that wasn’t why her heart was racing. It was the anticipation of being in the Shade King’s bed. The fear mixed with the guilty desire.
Joran was darkly alluring. She didn’t remember seeing him in this way all those thousands of years ago. Back then, he had just been one of them. He had only ever been Ayanna’s mate to her. Until he went psycho. And then they all buried his memory along with him.
But now that he was back, after an eternity of soul-blackening solitude and suffering, he had been warped into the ultimate villain, and there was always something thrilling about a bad boy.
Her core burned at the thought of what she was about to embark on as she crossed the threshold into the castle’s ballroom. Her body wanted this, even if her mind and heart didn’t.
She was getting closer to the library, and as her anticipation built, so did her confidence. Every movement was deliberate, every step a graceful action meant only to allure.
Just as Skylar had said, Phoenyx found Joran in the library, sitting on a leather couch, appearing deep in thought.
It had been easier to resist him before, when she belonged to Sebastian and Joran was trying to steal her from him. When he was nothing more than the enemy. But now that she had Sebastian’s permission, now that all the boundaries had been dropped, it was all she could do not to just throw herself at him.
He looked so darkly sexy, sitting on that couch with one ankle resting on his other knee and his fingers covering his shadowy stubbled mouth as he pondered whatever it is wicked men ponder.
“Here you are,” she said in a playful tone, leaning against the doorframe so she could jut out her hip provocatively.
He turned his dark eyes on her, curiosity and interest sparking instantly and drawing him out of his gloomy mood.
“Why were you looking for me?” he asked, his eyes drilling into her.
She shrugged and entered the library, swaying her hips with each step. “I’m bored. I thought maybe you could help me fix that.”
“Really now?” he asked, arching one thick dark eyebrow. “Water can’t hold your attention?”
“He’s not here right now,” she said, stopping to stand in front of him. This plan would not work unless Joran believed she was the only one here. “The other three are in staying in London for the night, doing things that teenagers of this age like to do. So I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to get you alone, maybe play that dangerous game you promised me.”
She bent down, arching her back so that her breasts were thrust forward over the deep v-neck of her t-shirt. She planted her hands boldly on his knees and flooded him with her lust as she pressed her lips on his, softly, teasingly, playfully licking his lips.
He responded eagerly, hungrily devouring her mouth and lightly biting her lower lip. His mouth threatened to pull her in, intoxicating and enticing. It was as if his darkness was closing in around her, wrapping her up in its seductive embrace.
She closed the kiss and pulled away while she still had the power to do so, sending the message that she was the one in control.
“Come to my room tonight when Ayanna is asleep,” she said, her voice raspy.
He needed to believe that she had no idea of Ayanna’s current circumstances. She stood
up straight and turned for the door.
Just as she knew he would, Joran grabbed her wrist.
“There’s no need to wait for tonight,” he said, eyes burning with desire as they stripped her from head to toe. “Ayanna isn’t here either.”
“Oh? Where is she?” Phoenyx asked, showing appropriate curiosity.
He shrugged. “She expressed a desire to travel, so I let her visit London to explore the city.”
He was such a convincing liar, the way he came up with that on the spot.
“Hmm, so we have the castle completely to ourselves…” she said, tickling the inside of his wrist as he still held hers.
“It would seem that we do,” he said, and from where his hand held her, a poisonous desire flooded through her, setting her on fire inside.
She moaned from the intensity, her core burning with a mindless, insatiable hunger that left her paralyzed. She wanted more of this feeling. It was absolutely addictive. Suddenly nothing else mattered but getting as much of it as possible, even if the high obliterated her.
Phoenyx didn’t fight in the least when he pulled her down on the couch and rolled them to press his weight on her. She opened her legs to welcome him as his hips settled there, loving the way her breasts felt pressed up against his chest.
His hands ravaged her all over, infecting her with more and more lust everywhere they touched. He was relentless in his pursuit, flooding her with this need non-stop.
Phoenyx had never done this to anyone with her powers, mostly because it was unnecessary. One dose was enough to make anyone putty in her hands. And she was far more than that, at his mercy now. The pleasure was so extreme, every inch of her flesh scathing with it, every organ in her body throbbing with it. It was almost agony.
He wanted to own her.
“Let me feel your desire,” he ordered roughly into her desperate mouth.
At his command, she released her lust into him, through her groping hands and hungry lips. She needed with every fiber of her being to please him. She was nothing else but this need.
He moaned, and they were connected in the most amazing and forbidden way, their passion flowing into each other as if they were one being.
She felt hot, so deliciously hot. His eager hands kneaded her bare breasts, making her aware that there was no longer a clothing barrier between them. She dazedly opened her eyes to see that they were surrounded by flames, their bodies on fire without burning. Her clothes must have singed away.
The desire intensified as their bodies intertwined. Her perception narrowed and blurred, until she was nothing but this sinful euphoria, existing on the tip of ecstasy.
Who knew darkness could burn so bright?
Ayanna
Hollow. Ayanna felt hollow to her very core. And cold, so very cold.
Her voice had gone hoarse from screaming and her eyes were swollen from crying. She had no idea how long she had been in this hellish darkness. Every second that she endured knowing Joran was away from her, that he was upset with her, despite the fact that he was a monster, stretched on forever.
She now understood why all the servants around here cowered at the very mention of Joran. They had all seen what he was capable of. She was the only one who had been blind to it.
She also understood Jessa’s discomfort on the topic of the wounds on her back. Or the bruises on her face. Joran had been the one to give them to her.
Deep down, she had always known. Why else wouldn’t Joran have just outright told her how she had gotten hurt? If someone else had inflicted these injuries on her, why would he bother hiding it?
He had been evasive about every important detail. Her wounds, the events leading up to her memory loss accident, the accident itself. Was he responsible for her amnesia too?
Joran had told her that disobeying him had caused her accident. She now realized that what was more likely is that she had voiced her opinions of his use of power and he had punished her for it. He had whipped her and beat her, beat her so hard it damaged her brain. The realization brought fresh burning tears to her eyes, stinging her puffy, overused eyelids.
How could he be so cruel? And, even worse, how could she be so hopelessly in love with someone so cruel?
Her hopes of changing him, of dissuading him from his plans for the world, festered and soured in her broken heart. The simple truth was that Joran was beyond saving. And so was she.
The silence was so loud, it was deafening. So when the softest scratching noise sounded in the direction of the door, it pierced through her eardrum like a needle.
She had thought she was incapable of hope, but as she harkened to that scratching and resulting clink, her heart danced with anticipation. She was terrified that Joran had come back to punish her further, yet she needed to see him, no matter what he could do to her.
The door opened, light from the hall beyond flooding her confined space and momentarily blinding her. She squinted through tear-spiked lashes, allowing her eyes to adjust to the lighting change.
But when her vision focused, what she saw was not what she had expected.
“Ayanna?” the handsome black-haired Bound One whispered, kneeling down in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “Are you alright?”
Air and Earth followed him into the dungeon, both looking down at her with the same concerned expression.
Ayanna didn’t know how to respond. She was physically unharmed, but she was far from alright.
“Did he hurt you?” Water prodded further.
She shook her head and sniffled.
Beyond them, the door was wide open, and Ayanna could see two armed men standing on either side of it against the wall. Why are they just standing there? Why did they just let these people in here? She was no longer certain whether or not she could trust the Bound Ones. She wasn’t certain she could trust anyone.
“Sebastian created an illusion for them,” Air said to her as he gestured toward Water. “The guards didn’t see us, and they think the door is still closed, that you’re still alone in here.”
Ayanna couldn’t even feel shock at having her mind read. She was too deep in her pit of despair.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“We can no longer sit by while Joran abuses you,” Earth said.
“We’ve come to tell you the truth he’s hidden from you,” Water said. “To help remind you of who you are.”
The word “truth” had her attention. She wanted so badly to trust these kids, and even though she couldn’t be sure their truth wouldn’t be more lies, she needed to hear what they had to say.
“Please, tell me,” she invited in a soft, choked voice.
“Joran’s been lying to you about everything,” Water said. “You were never our enemy, Ayanna. You have been our best friend and ally for longer than history can measure. The four of us did use our powers to bury him all those millennia ago, but it was by your suggestion that we did it.”
“What?!” she gasped in disbelief. She shook her head repeatedly. “No, I would never do that.”
“But you did,” Air said. “You were his wife all that time ago. He started out as such a good person, but his powers corrupted him. In the end, he went too far, and he needed to be stopped. You tried to change him, to make him forget, but when he found out what you were doing, he threatened to kill you. That was when you knew he was beyond saving. Even now, you’re realizing this same fact.”
Ayanna pouted, admitting to herself that Joran was too wicked to ever come back from.
“Because he was immortal, we knew we couldn’t kill him,” Water continued the story. “So he had to be locked away, far away from any living person so he couldn’t hurt them or threaten them into helping him. And there were far too many people loyal to him that would rescue him from a conventional prison. The only way to save the world from him was to bury him, deep down where nothing and no one could reach him.”
“We used our combined powers t
o seal him in the earth, so that only we could ever raise him,” Earth said. “And for thousands of years since, his followers hunted us so they could force us to set him free. But after their most recent failure to do so, they found a witch powerful enough to perform a spell that would mimic our powers and unearth him.”
“We were unable to stop the spell, and Joran got out,” Air said. “After all that time of suffering, he wanted revenge on you. He took you from us. As you’ve already suspected, he was the one who beat you. And then he made you forget everything, so that he could mold you into the perfect queen he always wanted you to be. Apparently, it didn’t work.”
Her mind reeled, a terrible ache splitting through her skull. Could all of this be true?
“How could he make me forget?” Ayanna asked, secretly knowing that it had to be true but not understanding how it could be done. “How could he take all my memories away?”
“Do you remember that I told you he lied about you not having powers?” Air asked.
She nodded, burning to hear what he would say next.
“You have the power of memory,” Air said meaningfully. “You have the ability to make people forget things and to help them remember things they’ve forgotten.”
The power of memory?
“It’s true,” Water said. “For as long as you’ve been alive, you’ve been reminding us who we are every time we were reincarnated. After we buried Joran, you tracked us down in each lifetime and brought us back to ourselves. Together we hunted down the pieces of the dagger that made you immortal so that we could use it on ourselves, be free of the Four Corners’ threats once and for all.”
“But if memory is my power, how did Joran use it on me?” she asked, confused about that aspect.
“Joran can tap into the powers of anyone close to him,” Earth said.
Realization dawned on her, and now she knew that everything they were saying was absolute fact. Joran did mention his soul-tapping ability to her, and that was why he didn’t tell her about her power, because it would be too easy to connect the dots. Well, dots officially connected.
