Page 95 of Summoned
“Don’t embarrass us.” He grips tighter, his fingers digging into my flesh.
We stumble past the restroom entrance in our struggle—and that’s when we both stop cold. Gaetano leans against the opposite wall, a shadowy figure dressed in black.
He pushes off the wall and steps into our path. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He extends his hand to me, palm up.
My father’s grip loosens a bit, his scowl shifting as he follows the motion of Gaetano’s outstretched hand. “Aren’t you that scum from the Deliberovs’ ball, for fuck’s sake?”
“Sorry I’m late,” Gaetano says, attention all on me.
My pulse kicks into a gallop, and it’s got nothing to do with fear this time.
“I thought you wouldn’t come until the third week…” I whisper, not caring if my father hears.
Dad yanks on my wrist. “Nicole, what the hell are you rambling on about?”
Gaetano offers me a faint smile. “I thought so, too. Are you coming?”
My heart stumbles.Consequences be damned.Before my mind catches up, my free hand is already in his. The moment our fingers interlace, a rush of heat surges through me. The weight I’ve been carrying all this time dissolves.
Dad’s still gripping my other wrist. It doesn’t matteranymore. From the instant Gaetano appeared, the shift in the air was unmistakable. That invisible, unstoppable force swept between us and took all control from my father’s grasp. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.
My vision fades into shadow. My knees buckle as I start my descent into that now-familiar void.
30
Gaetano
Day 14
Thewalls of my castle are bursting with color for the first time in years—rich wine shades, subdued golds, ochres that pour over the stone like a waterfall of light. Between them, the shadows of myharvestsshift and drift, the veil of magic keeping them at bay. They may whisper, try to catch a glimpse, but they can’t touch her—can’t even see her.
Nicole is meant for my eyes alone.
She sleeps in my bed. Her hair, like dark fire, spreads across the black sheets, and only the soft curve of her shoulder, the pulse in her throat, and the faint flutter of her lashes reveal that she’s flesh, not just a figment of my desire.
A single whiff of her scent is enough to reignite the hunger that has burned inside me since the day we met. It takes me back to how I once yearned for Madeline.
Then, I knew exactly what I craved: knowledge, power, magic.
This… I don’t understand. Maybe the odd pull is down to her soul, the spark I’m meant to drain and turn to shadow?
Unlikely. My insides revolt at the very thought of the contract’s end.
Maybe it’s a buried savior complex, because she reminds me of the trap I’d been caught in? Theemotionaltrap, the one before the real shackles.
She stirs. Her lashes flutter, then she glances around, sensing she’s not alone. Her shoes are by the side of the bed, but her clothing remains on, rumpled under the covers.
Her focus drifts to the chair where I spent the entire night. “Where am I?”
“In my castle. I didn’t want you to be alone. And I can’t stay outside for long.”
She studies the ceiling next, observing every corner, then every wall.
“They’re not here,” I say. “I cast a shield they can’t cross.”
The words calm her. She pushes herself upright, frowning at her crumpled dress. Then her attention falls to the tray with water and bread I stole from the restaurant. She sips from the glass, her fingers trembling just enough to betray her.
“Teleportation to my castle is exhausting, especially the first time. You fainted. I let you rest.” I lean my elbow on the armrest. Rage pulses behind my temples at the memory of her father gripping her wrist like she was his property. “I teleported us right in front of your father. He probably thinks he imagined it. That’s what men like him do when they can’t explain away their fear.”
