Page 99 of The Rogue's Curse

“He’s what?” Dom’s green eyes widened. “Is he your soulmate?”

Paris nodded, a smile curling his lips. “Shoshanna confirmed it.”

Dom let out a boisterous laugh, a sound that was so lovely for how unfamiliar it was. So many years of chronic pain had made his old friend dour and cold. Rachel had practically brought him back to life when her presence broke his curse. He was the charming, kind man Paris had known long ago. “That’s wonderful. You deserve this.”

“We’re going to try to break the curse tonight. Then we should both be at our peak to finish Shea once and for all. We’ve got a way in, and Misha has been working on a spell to deal with Shea and his court.” He met Dom’s eyes. “We might be able to beat him. Misha is incredibly powerful. Between the two of us—”

“The two?” Dominic said archly. “You must be every bit as foolish as you look if you think it’s only the two of you.”

He chuckled. “You know what I meant.”

Dark brows arched. “I know what you meant, and I know you’ll have enough sense not to go it alone. We have been through too much together for you to be so stupid,” he said.

“I know,” he said. At that, Dominic wrapped him another tight embrace. Ever since his curse had been broken, Dom had been far more affectionate, and he couldn’t say he minded, especially with the residual guilt still lingering.

They chatted for a few minutes longer, until Shoshanna texted him to say that she was ready. Anxiety gripped him tighter and tighter as he headed to a room at the far end of the third floor of Building Four.

In the hours since he’d last seen her, Shoshanna had transformed an empty room into a lovely ritual space. Glowing with warm yellow light, it smelled of incense and clean herbs. Sharp white lines were painted across the floor, with small metal dishes of ingredients at key junctions. Shoshanna was carefully placing red pillar candles amidst the array when he lightly knocked on the door frame.

She looked up and beamed a warm smile at him. “Come in,” she said, opening her arms for a hug. As he accepted her embrace and felt her heart beating against him, he remembered the way this had all begun; a desperate call for help, and his insistence that they keep their pet witch safe. Back then, she was a pretty, clever little thing that he liked having around. The occasional flirtation was a fun game, and he liked her spark. Back then, he had no idea what she was capable of, and how she would change the course of all their lives.

She pulled away, taking his hands lightly. “I’m so happy we can finally do this for you,” she said.

“Me too,” he said.

“You’ve seen me do this before,” she said.

“Right. Creepy visions. Moral tests,” he said.

She squeezed his hands. “It’s all right to be scared. Given your curse, I think there’s a chance it could be a bit more complicated for you to parse what’s real and what’s not. I just need you to trust me.”

“I do,” he said solemnly.

Still, fear plagued him as she guided him to take a seat on a cushion in the center of the design. He had no doubt Shoshanna could do what she promised. It was his own resolve and strength that he doubted. Nikko hadn’t told him all the details, but he’d bolted out of the room as soon as Olivia took that first shuddering breath on her own, fearing that his presence would somehow hurt her. And Dom had told him—after a bit too much Scotch—that he’d truly believed Rachel wasn’t his soulmate. He’d agreed to give her up to Paris so that she could be happy and safe.

What would he see? What if he failed some test? His brothers had all passed the trials before them, but perhaps he would be the first to fail. What would—

Misha’s scent struck him, and he forgot his concerns when he looked up to watch him saunter into the room. For a moment, he forgot everything except a single word, something so primal it wasn’t even an emotion:

Mine.

His lover kissed Shoshanna’s cheeks, then followed her directions to join Paris at the center of her painstakingly drawn spell. Misha’s warm eyes found his as he gently took Paris’s hands. “You ready?” he asked.

“I think so. Are you?”

Misha nodded. Despite his smile, there were dark shadows beneath his eyes. Perhaps it was Paris’s projection, but he looked gaunt. The man had been through so much already, just for being in his proximity.

If he could stay strong enough, Misha would never have to fear again. And God, what would it be like to go to sleep next to him and wake up without fear? To wake up and see that beautiful face inches away? He would walk through the labyrinth of madness and stand in the cursed fire as long as it took if he could have Misha.

Shoshanna’s voice rang out, chanting a ritual in French. “Threads of destiny, red as blood, bindings break and poisons purify. As it is spoken, let it be done.” Her voice was impossibly loud, and his whole body trembled with the power of it. Soon, he could barely understand her words as they drowned out his conscious thought, leaving him vulnerable and exposed before that wave of raw power.

Darkness slammed into him like a wave at high tide, and when he caught his bearings against, he was running down a dark hallway.

“Misha?” he called. “Where are you?”

The ground seemed to shake beneath his feet, as if there were only flimsy boards between him and the abyss. Red light pulsed from beyond doorways, but there were no handles, no way out of the endless corridor.

Claws clacked behind him, growing quicker and louder. He ran for his life. What the hell was going on?

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