Page 67 of Summoned
Later, when my magic matched hers, I sharpened her jealousy into a weapon. Slept with other women just to make her snap. She couldn’t hurt me anymore.
Or so I thought.
Being bonded to Nicole and all the other harvests proves the opposite.
A knot tightens in my chest as an unwelcome realization dawns on me. I did the same to Nicole. I stripped her of her clothes and her strength. I tormented her heart as I pressed the blade to her skin.
The thought of putting her through that fills me with the same shame the memory of Madeline’s torture still awakens in me. It had to be done. I had to make her apologize, beg.
I clench my jaw and unfurl my fists. My fingers stretch out into the darkness again. Knuckles marked with runes stand stark against Nicole’s skin. Instead of summoning the insects back, I brush the tip of my finger against her forehead. She shivers.
Her hand twitches atop the blanket, and her breathing shifts.
“Gaetano…” My name slips from her lips.
Every muscle in my body grows taut. Any desire I had for entertainment is gone, replaced instead by a single-minded focus: I don’t want to hurt her. Not today.
Leave!I command the night creatures. They scatter back into their hiding places as if they never emerged.
I’m about to teleport out when Nicole stirs. Then she bolts upright, sitting up in bed, eyes wide open. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, scanning the darkness. She can’t see me, can’t feel my presence. Yet, she must be sensing something.
I won’t hurt you, I almost tell her. But I don’t. Because in less than two weeks, I’ll do much worse than cause her pain.
She reaches for the lamp. A soft glow spills over her profile, highlighting the sharp line of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips. The letter on her brow. Her gaze flickers,filled with a mix of confusion and fear. I remain invisible, but she still turns her head in my direction. My pulse races with hers—an uncontrollable, maddening reaction.
I’ve spent countless nights in the rooms of my harvests, probing for their deepest weaknesses. Still Nicole’s awareness makes my skin prickle. She keeps staring straight at me, the tension thickening the air between us.
Before I stop myself, my fingers extend toward her forehead again. Her lips part in surprise, and I brush her skin, the delicate line of her cheekbone, the gentle curve of her chin. I don’t know if she registers anything beyond a faint chill, but to me, the touch is solid, warm, and painfully real.
That damn protective instinct flares up again, unbidden and impossible to ignore. I came here to toy with her. I stead, all I can think about is how peaceful she looks in her sleep.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I teleport away before I do something reckless.
My magic wavers once I’m back inside the castle, unstable for no clear reason. Maybe it’s those fragments of memory I keep locked away. Tonight, they’ve slipped free, crawling over my skin, coiling around my heart. Almost as if—
The hairs on my neck rise. I focus on the wards, a sense of urgency pulsating beneath my ribs...
A relieved breath escapes me. Everything’s intact. The protection is holding.
22
Nicole
Day 9
Iwake up with strands of hair plastered to my forehead, and the blankets tossed onto the floor. Sitting up, I run my fingers through my hair.
Gaetano didn’t come last night. I should be relieved, but his absence lingers like the silence before an avalanche. And yet, he still found a way in, through my dreams. I saw him standing by the bed, touching me with a tenderness that felt far too intimate…
If this keeps up, I’m going to lose my mind.
Am I becoming Angelina? The girl haunted by ghosts?
I rush to the mirror, hoping that witcher’s mark on my forehead has faded. It’s very much present—a tattoo burned into my skin. I lift my fist and scrub at the scarlet letter with my palm until the skin around the brand glows just as red. Damn it!
My head jerks toward the door when someone knocks. I dart to the nightstand and grab my cap, yanking it on, my pulse doubling.
