Page 52 of The Prince of Power

A shiver crawls down my spine.

Oh God. Is he talking about hurting other people? I think he is. Can I really go to the police if it will put other people at risk?

Fuck, what would my dad do?

The answer glows in my heart. He wouldn’t submit to evil, no matter the consequences. He’d go to the police, because it’s the right thing to do. And he’d accept that whatever Damian does is outside of his control.

But I can’t go to the police with just my own testimony. I’m a young college girl, and Damian has real power on this campus. They’d probably think I was nothing but a scorned lover.

No more procrastinating. It’s time to finally start looking forTheBook of Shadows.

16

Ava

My footsteps are soft as I move down the hall. I’m guided only by the slivers of moonlight filtering through narrow windows.

Nothing too crazy happened when we got back to the castle. I wasn’t taken into the courtyard and flogged, like Lucy had joked about.

But my phone was taken away.

I wasn’t even told if and when I’d get it back. Damian just held out his hand and said, “Phone.”

I’ve been in almost a fugue state of rage ever since. How am I supposed to talk to the police if I don’t have my phone and I can’t leave the castle? How am I supposed to contact Sienna? She’s been texting me multiple times a day since I moved in here. If she doesn’t hear from me for twenty-four hours straight, she might come here and search for me.

That probably wouldn’t even bother Damian. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything. He assaulted Connor today—threatened to make him disappear—and didn’t even flinch when I said I’d go to the police.

He told me that night in the conservatory that the things really going on at Thornecroft are beyond my comprehension. After his behavior today, I’m starting to believe him. Is it possible that this cult is so big that he has both Ashford University and local law enforcement on his side?

If that’s the case, my search for this book is futile.

And yet here I am making my way to the library, every nerve in my body alive and tingling.

I refuse to cower, to become a shell of myself out of fear. If I’m going to save myself and Rhett, I have to fight back, even in small ways.

Besides, I’m nearly exploding with curiosity about what thisBook of Shadowshas to say. The Thornecroft rituals—the ones I know about, at least—are remarkably strange. The obsession with ancient English terms and practices is almost theatrical.

At the end of a winding hallway, I find myself in front of a set of large double doors.

This is the library. I found it one day while I was exploring, but I didn’t go inside.

I push the doors open and gasp when I take in the size of the room. Rows of towering bookshelves stretch to the vaulted ceiling. A massive stone fireplace dominates one wall. A second level wraps around the perimeter, lined with more shelves and accessible by a narrow iron staircase.

I let out a long sigh. There’s no way in hell I’m going to find this book, but I might as well explore while I’m here.

I walk along a wall of books, trailing my fingers over the spines, their titles visible under the low light of the chandelier. Most of them are in Latin—or at least, I think they are.

One book makes me stop in my tracks.A Treatise on the Elixir of Life. I pull it out and shuffle through the pages.

There’s a loud thud, and my heart stops.

I freeze, clutching the book to my chest, and listen, my pulse pounding in my ears. Another footstep, deliberate and slow, closer this time. I shove the book back onto the shelf, searching for somewhere to hide.

But it’s too late. A faint glow appears at the far end of the room. The flickering light reveals Damian’s face illuminated by the candle he holds, his unblinking gaze fixed on me.

A candle. He’s holding a candle like a Victorian ghost in a horror movie.

This was all a trick.

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