Page 65 of Necromance
“Mm-mm,” she tutted, wagging a finger as if chiding a child. “No cheating, darling. He wants to tell you. He really does.” She leaned back into Lucien’s chest, draping herself across him like a cat. “But that’s the lovely thing about curses… they make you so obedient.”
“Let him go,” I hissed, my voice low and dangerous.
Serena ignored me, her gaze trailing lazily across Lucien’s face before flicking to me, sharp and gleaming. “But you can’t be too upset, can you, Mia?” She tilted her head, mock curiosity curling her lips. “Don’t you have your own little secret?”
My breath caught.
“I wonder,” she hummed, stepping away from Lucien at last and stalking toward me. The vines holding me creaked, shifting to keep me suspended, helpless. “How is your grandmother?”
I went completely still.
Serena grinned wider. “Oh, that struck a nerve.” She leaned in close,her breath cool against my cheek. “Does Lucien know the little bloodline you come from? The dark little root of your tree?” She laughed. “Oh, the two of you are just perfect for each other. A cursed Duke and a necromancer with blood-soaked lineage.”
Lucien’s fists clenched. He looked like he might rip himself apart trying to break free, but the curse held him fast. Serena turned, twirling once in her crimson gown, arms spread wide. “So many secrets between lovers. How tragic.”
My fury trembled beneath my skin, rising fast, choking out the fear. I wasn’t sure who I was more furious at. Serena… or myself.
Serena paced between us now. Her smile had soured into something darker, something vicious. She didn’t need to shout. Her words slithered like snakes, soft and venomous.
“Oh, Mia,” she cooed, turning back to me with a tilt of her head, eyes glittering like frost. “Did you really think you could have him? You thought that if he made love to you that you could keep him?”
She stopped in front of me, waving her hand so that the vines lowered me just enough for her to run cold fingers down my cheek, long nails scraping roughly against my skin. “He made love to me too,” she went on, circling me like a wolf now. “Did you enjoy the things he did with his mouth?”
My stomach twisted. I looked at Lucien then, his eyes intensely focused on her, the rage palpable.
“A little necromancer with no name, no legacy. Lowborn. Powerless. An embarrassment even among your kind.” Her lip curled. “Did you honestly think he—” she jerked her head toward Lucien, “—a Duke, would want you after the curse is broken? Do you think this is some fairytale?”
She stopped in front of me, leaning close again, her breath tinged with roses and rot. “He was just using you to break his curse. A means to an end. You’re convenient… easy. Seducing you was all just a game for him to pass the time.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, trying to sound strong, but my voice cracked.
Serena’s grin spread.
“Oh, but let’s not forget you’re not the only one being used.” She turned to Lucien now, her hand trailing along his shoulder like a caress, though he flinched from her touch. “How foolish you are, Lucien, to trust a witch.”
Lucien glared at her, jaw tight.
“Aren’t you curious?” she said, voice like silk, “Why she thought the spellbook felt familiar? Why she has kept it hidden from you, tucked away so you wouldn’t open it?” She glanced back at me with faux innocence. “Didn’t you ever wonderhow she summoned you so easily? Isn’t it curious why you feel connected to her magic? Why don’t you ask her about her grandmother…”
“She’s lying!” I cried, heart hammering so hard I thought it might shatter. “My grandmother would never—” But even as I said it, the truth wormed its way through my chest. I didn’t know for sure. I wanted to believe my grandmother had a good reason, but Serena saw that flicker in my eyes… saw it and laughed.
“Her grandmother helped me curse you,” she said to Lucien, voice like a lullaby. “That’s why she was able to pull you from the painting. No one else could have known the shape of your curse quite so intimately to be able to summon you forward. And you, my love, have trusted her so blindly.”
Lucien’s eyes flicked to mine then, full of shadows and questions. Serena clapped her hands once, gleefully. “Oh, look at you two. A little tangled knot of betrayal. It’s delicious.”
I couldn’t breathe. And I couldn’t tell what hurt more… Serena’s lies, or the possibility that some of them weren’t.
Serena was still laughing when Lucien moved.
It happened so fast, I didn’t see him flicker or shift, only the blur of motion and the sound of a snarl torn from deep in his chest. One second, she stood there taunting us, the next, he had her. His hand clamped around her throat, lifting her clear off the ballroom floor. The smile slippedfrom her face for a heartbeat, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like surprise. Her hands flew to his wrist, nails digging in, but he didn’t let go.
“I am not yours,” Lucien growled, voice low and laced with something ancient, something deadly. “Not anymore.”
His energy cracked the air like a storm rolling in, dark and pulsing and furious. The vines that had slithered across the ballroom walls recoiled as if burned, and the phantom dancers screeched, bones clattering and collapsing into dust. The music faltered, stuttering like a dying breath.
I stared, heart in my throat. I had never seen him like this.
Serena choked, her legs dangling, that cruel glint in her eyes flickering. But then… then she smiled again. Not afraid. Not defeated.
