Page 49 of Mostly Shattered

I wonder what he knows about the prophecy. Maybe he can decipher it for me.

“Chester,” Mortimer commands.

Chester doesn’t hesitate as he lifts the quill and signs. When he’s finished, he winks at me.

“Tamara.” Mortimer looks at me expectantly.

I can’t force my legs to move.

“Zephronis is a busy man,” my uncle insists.

“I don’t…” I try to speak, but everyone is staring at me.

The sun is setting outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, its magenta and orange streakingthe sky. Costin will be waiting for me. I long to see him streaking across the window to come and save me.

I try to buy time. “I haven’t read this yet. Shouldn’t I?—”

Astrid touches my elbow and guides me forward to sign my deal with the devil. “It’s taken care of.”

The words on the premarital agreement blur as I stare down at them. The ink seems to glisten. Several seals are stamped along the edge. It looks so official.

Mortimer points to a spot next to Chester’s signature. Even his handwriting looks pretentious.

“I’m sorry…” I try to say, but the sound doesn’t pass my lips.

Suddenly, Zephronis grabs my hand and jerks it toward him. Gnarled fingers hold my wrist firm as he traces a line on my palm. His purple eyes meet mine, and he lets me go just as quickly.

“Go ahead.” Mortimer tries to soften his tone, but the order is unmistakable. He lifts the ink pot and quill and sets it down close to the paper to punctuate his meaning. I feel him standing behind me, looking over my shoulder as he blocks any escape I might try to make.

I mouth the word, “Costin,” wishing he could hear me.

The wizard leans close, pinning me in on the other side.

Chester comes to stand in front of the podium,completing the wall and keeping me in my place. He glances down at the premarital contract, barely containing his impatience. His fingers drum against the table as he, yet again, leans too close to me.

“Come on, darling,” he drawls, flashing that insufferable smile. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just a piece of paper, after all. Let’s get this over with so we can move on to more,” he touches my arm, “important things.”

His breath is hot against my cheek, and I feel a wave of nausea rise in my throat. His words feel like a trap. The cage is slowly closing around me. I want to scream, but it’s all I can do to keep standing.

My hand trembles uncontrollably as I grasp the quill.

Chester places his hand over mine, guiding the quill tip toward the ink. I feel the bile rise in my throat.

“There we go,” he whispers. “Good girl.”

A droplet of ink splashes onto the podium. I’m overcome with panic. I don’t think I can go through with it. I can’t marry this man.

A light tap hits my elbow. A surge of magic shoots up my arm, causing my wrist to jerk to the side, accidentally knocking the pot. The spilled ink flows over the document, swiftly obliterating Chester’s name in a swirling sea of darkness.

“Dammit,” Mortimer swears.

“Oh, Tamara,” Astrid sighs.

“I should have known,” Francis mutters.

“Now, wait a minute,” my father defends. “It’s an accident. She’s clearly overwhelmed.”

“She’s nervous about marrying our Chester,” Mabel preens. “How adorable.”

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