Page 93 of The Prince's Curse

“All of it,” Misha said.

Kova stared at the liquid. This was it, what he told himself he’d wanted for more than a hundred years. But now that reality stared him in the face, he was terrified. And stranger still, he was more afraid that it would work than that it wouldn’t.

He knew he owed this to them. He owed it to her.

He tipped the vial up, but when the first drop hit his tongue, the markings on his wrists flared to life, and his muscles seized. “I can’t?—”

No other magic, Armina’s voice echoed in his mind. Naughty boy.

His fingers stiffened, letting the vial slip.“She doesn’t want me to,” he protested as Misha caught the vial. The other Russian man looked up and nodded, and before Kova could react, Julian had his arms pinned tight as Misha forced the potion between his lips. Kova snarled, bit through the glass, and spat blood as Misha shook his head.

“Sasha, dvaite,” Misha said. An iron vise closed on Kova’s jaw and pried it open, and he gagged as Misha dumped the foul-smelling potion down his throat. Armina’s markings seared like brands against his skin, and he held back a scream as the pain overwhelmed him. Her voice screamed in his head and every cell in his body protested that he was being bad; he had to stop what he was doing before he died. His body convulsed as he tried to spit, but someone held his jaws closed.

As he tried to break their hold, heinvoluntarily swallowed. The potion burned like acid going down his throat, and he writhed as if he could shake it out of his system.

Sasha released him, and Kova snarled, “Let me go!”

“It’s hurting him,” Scarlett protested. Even her voice grated, reminding him that he was not doing what he was supposed to do.

“It’s her magic,” Misha said calmly. “She doesn’t want anything interfering with her hold on him. He’ll be fine.”

Even knowing they meant to help him, Armina’s will was ripping through him like an inferno. He swore in Russian, prompting a wry grin from Misha.

“My mother was a lovely woman,” he said. “You’ll be fine, Kova. But you can keep cursing at me if it makes you feel any better.”

Kova growled, twisting away when Sasha squeezed his shoulder. “He knows what he’s doing,” Sasha said.

“You break a lot of Night Weaver spells on vampires, bratishka?” Kova bit out. But soon, the angry shrieking in his head faded, as if Armina was receding into the distance. Relief fell over him.

The potionsat heavy and cold in his gut, radiating ice into his veins. It reminded him of shitty homebrewed liquor, giving him the feeling of being mildly intoxicated and always on the verge of throwing up. But the searing pain receded, leaving a dull throbbing in his arms, across his chest, and in the base of his skull. Soon even that faded, leaving him with the familiar numbness that had been his existence since the curse first took hold.

He did not dare voice his thoughts for fear of upsetting the witches who’d worked so hard to help him, but there was a not-insignificant part of Dmitri Kovalev that hoped the spell would fail and just send him into oblivion. Then he would never have to face Lucia and acknowledge his many sins, his devastating failures. They could remember his noble, if futile, attempt to redeem himself in the end. Who could stay angry at such a self-sacrificing noble martyr of a man?

“Over here,” Shoshanna said, patting a bare spot on the floor. Large red stones were placed around it, and he caught the vague hint of vampire blood. That had to be Misha’s work.

“Is it safe?” Sasha asked, eyeing Kova warily.

“Misha’s got my back,” Shoshanna said.

“That was a yes-or-no question,” Sasha said.

Shoshanna just shrugged, setting out a dried blue flower in a carefully sketched circle. At least her magic was far more pleasant than Armina’s. He liked the flowers-and-crystals witchcraft much better than the blood-and-death style.

Misha Volkov had a wickedly sharp knife in one hand, its point already tinged with blood. Runes glowed along the edge, and there was a palpable crackle in the air.

“Backup plan?” Kova quipped weakly as he knelt in the circle.

Misha smiled faintly. “When she begins, I’m going to use this to take over your will.”

“That seems personal,” Kova said. “But it won’t be the first time.”

“All I’m going to do is make sure you don’t interfere. It’ll hurt less if you don’t fight it,” Misha said.

“Might not be my choice,” Kova said.

“I’m aware. I won’t hold it against you if you agree to the same,” Misha said.

“Come on, boys,” Shoshanna said.

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