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  He moves to her, leaning in to drag her closer, but she pushes him away as she buries her face in her hands and her body shakes with sobs I can’t hear. The image changes and she’s suddenly on the ground, her eyes vacantly staring at nothing, as a pool of blood surrounds her and her protruding belly.

  The page instantly goes blank, and my eyes come up to meet Alton’s as he watches me silently, regarding me with eerie intent.

  “She was your mate,” I say quietly. He says nothing. “And that was your unborn child,” I add on a broken whisper.

  He clears his throat as he gently places the sketchbook onto his lap and locks his hands together in front of him. Finally, after what seems like a never-ending span of silence, he nods.

  “The curse of the Gemini can only be lifted if a mate is claimed,” he says with a tight smile. “But when I claimed her, I never knew the repercussions. We had no idea what would sever our bonds. No one did—until that prophecy was discovered. It was pure instinct demanding I take her as mine when they thrust her into the cell with me. They knew, given the circumstances, I’d never be able to resist claiming her, and they used it against me.”

  “Circumstances?” I ask, confused.

  “I was on high alert, constantly tortured, and my instincts were growing wilder with each passing day,” he answers as his eyes dip to the woman on the sketchbook, no longer animated by whatever magic he used. “The second I saw her, I knew she was mine, and I immediately claimed her.”

  “But how did they—”

  “Their visionary found her,” he says, answering the question before I even finish asking it.

  I swallow down anything I might say, and he stares at me like he’s trying to get inside my head for some reason.

  “I’m almost positive the claim revoked one half of the bond between my brother and I, and I heard his screams even from the other side of the prison. An emptiness immediately slithered into my bones, but then it was replaced by a heady, incomparable warmth that seemed to expand and never stop. It was…for lack of a better term…amazing. I felt her love and not his pain.”

  His eyes glisten even as his lips turn up in a reminiscent smile.

  “Carolina was absolutely everything to me,” he adds on a hushed breath as he absently hugs the sketchbook closer. “And I only had her for two very brief years before they filled my soul with an emptiness that has left me too hollow to carry on. Sans for the small bond I still have with my brother.”

  For reasons unbeknownst to me, my heart actually hurts for him. It’s as though his pain is rolling off him so heavily, that I can feel it myself.

  He clears his throat again before meeting my eyes once more. “They wanted my brother’s bond destroyed as well, so they could kill one of us and see what happened to the other. They simply studied us at that time—before the new leader took over and saw use in us for a ‘greater’ purpose.”

  “Hannah,” I whisper quietly.

  He nods.

  “Before Hannah, they wanted to know how to break us—in case another set of Gemini Twins came along. It was all a game of power and knowledge. Hannah, however, was in it with a collection of others, most of which were involved with the release of purgatory. Purgatory was needed to free the portal realms once again, giving them the magic to open them. Along with the blood of the firsts. They also needed a creature so strong that it could withstand the draining effect the portals place on the anchor, so they took over the immortal prison rings. And of course, that also gave them soldiers—male and female immortals who were so broken they’d take any semblance of freedom, so long as they got out of their cages. They also gained all the studious knowledge collected over those many centuries. They even cultivated their own experiments to learn weaknesses—preparation for this war.”

  Shakily, I exhale, and he continues on, still sounding like nothing more than a shell of a man; the complete opposite of the fierce, angry, and brazen approach I’ve become accustomed to from his twin.

  “They found us during the management change,” he says with a shrug. “One twin so powerful he could easily have blown it all to hell had he not been chained down with some of the strongest crests magic has ever seen. And one twin so broken, that his magic could be stolen and used to open the portals—in the event they couldn’t imprison their goal immortal.”

  He gives me a pointed look. Swallowing thickly, I whisper, “Me.”

  “Exactly,” he says, smiling softly. Then adds, “The visionary—the only non-prisoner being kept when the prisons were overthrown and taken over—saw you. He saw your power easily matching our combined power. But not until after you revealed yourself that night you helped free us.”

  “Why not?” I ask automatically.

  He looks away. “That’s a little far off topic,” he tells me so quietly I barely hear the words.

  “Clearly we’re as powerful as you, so it’s not really a concern at this point. I’m sure Hannah has finally come to the same conclusion, since she already tried using me. Doesn’t really matter who is stronger. Hannah will certainly kill both of us if my brother doesn’t stop fighting his mate. He needs to sever the final bond.”

  Why does my mouth sour at the thought of Slade taking a damn mate? Why do my eyes feel like they’re turning silver on their own? Why is Alton smirking at me right now?

  “Didn’t realize he had a mate,” I say tightly.

  “Obviously. You truly thought he’d kill you for helping me—genuinely still believe as much about him, even though he’s never once harmed a hair on your head.”

  Snorting derisively, I roll my eyes. “He’s tried killing more than one of us in my family, and I’ve lost count of the threats he’s made. What does that have to do with his mate?”

  He leans back, still smirking. “Something special about creatures like you and I was the fact that even before purgatory was unleashed, we could mate and have children with any immortal. The visionary saw my mate, but could never once spot Slade’s. My mate was just a simple witch—her magic nor bloodlines were very powerful.”

  This guy can never just give a direct answer. I feel like I’m following him in a circle every time he speaks.

  It’s dizzying.

  “Hannah learned of your visionless visionary—knew how to prevent her from seeing the future. And she served a purpose to open purgatory, which drained her at such a young age. The demon’s own visionary saw so much. But never once—not even when Hannah took him from his former employers and gave him a power boost—could the visionary see Slade’s mate,” he goes on.

  Frowning, I lean back, confused.

  “Why? If he could see your mate, then why couldn’t he see Slade’s?”

  A ghost of a secretive smile toys with the edges of his lips. “Because my brother would go and somehow become fated to the most powerful woman we’ve ever heard of, and he wanted that kept a secret.”

  It takes me a second, but when I realize why he’s looking at me like he’s amused, I dart to my feet, unease uncurling in me. I can’t say that it wouldn’t explain a hell of a lot, but…fuck that. Hell no.

  That asshole?

  I’ll die a damn spinster. I’ll even adopt a small kitten army as proof of my commitment to staying single for always.

  “You have to be kidding me,” I blurt out.

  He freaking grins.

  “You can’t honestly say you haven’t already questioned the possibility a time or two on your own. Possibly far more times than that. When your instincts are the fiercest, you feel it. Know it. He’s seen you for centuries. And the night you and your family freed us? I felt it through the bond, as though it really wasn’t gone. I felt his heart pumping erratically, as if it was my own, because he saw you.”

  “Saw me?” I ask, confused.

  “He can always see you. Unless you have this symbol close by,” he answers, creeping me out as he points to a marking on the wall that certainly resembles an eye with a slash through it.

  Slowly, Alton stands to his
full, very tall height, looking down at me. With his brand of suffering, I’m reminded he can’t really be trusted. What if he tries to kill me just to hurt his brother because he really believes I’m his mate?

  I’m so damn stupid that I almost just take him at his word that I really am. Because I’m gullible, it appears.

  Dumbass comes to mind a few times as I take quick steps back, watching him as he moves toward me.

  “He saw you when he closed his eyes,” he goes on, still stalking closer. “I was no longer bonded enough to see you with him in his mind, but I could feel the warmth in his chest on occasion when he dreamt of you. Then the night you and your family freed us, he laid eyes on you for the first time. You became real. You risked your life to save all of us—beings you didn’t even know. Pride was there—I felt it oozing from him. I watched from the shadows as he lifted your broken body, cradled you to him like you were precious, then disappeared from sight.”

  I stumble a step, my mind reeling as I think back to so many months ago when I woke up in a strange cabin, mostly mended from the night before. Slade saved me. That I already knew.

  The remembered feeling of the warmth I felt in his wake staggers my breath, but I try to remain a picture of composure in front of Alton as he continues to advance on me.

  “I expected that final bond to come down, and then I could finally end this miserable existence for myself, while my brother got to enjoy something that was stolen from me. I could meet Carolina in the spirit world, and he could forever live in peace and happiness with his mate.” He laughs bitterly. “But the stubborn fool is too focused on making me miserable, not understanding what I already suffer.”

  “So tell him,” I say, still backing down the long tunnel as he moves closer.

  “No,” he says quickly. “I want to die, Ella. I want to go to the spirit world, find my mate and my child, and exist there—whether it’s hell, heaven, or purgatory. You’re the only person with the ability to free me from him.”

  “What are you asking of me?” I ask, getting ready to dematerialize.

  “Nothing,” he finally says, stopping in the middle of the tunnel. A sad smile graces his lips before he adds, “Because you won’t even remember this until it matters.”

  With a wave of his hand, everything goes black.

  Chapter 3

  ELLA

  My head aches as I sit up and look around my room, wondering how I got back in here. Slowly, the beginnings of a faded memory tugs at the corners of my mind.

  Alton…

  That son of a bitch—

  A scream bubbles out of me as my eyes land on a very scarred, menacing man, who is crouching in the corner of my room like a crazed creeper.

  Slade smirks at me.

  “Where have you been, Princess?” he asks with a deep, sexy, faux-disinterested tone.

  If he didn’t really care where I’ve been, then why would he be here asking?

  I swallow down the immediate answer that forms on the tip of my tongue, ready to expel my secret. The memory Alton tried to steal is still working its way out of the darkness, threading together in incoherent pieces.

  “Why does it matter to you? How do you know I’ve been anywhere at all?” I volley, sounding like the smartass I usually am in his presence.

  He stands, his intimidating height finally in full view, and he takes a step toward me. I remain on the bed, not moving, and ignoring all the terribly inappropriate sensations that flood my body every time he’s around.

  “Answer the question,” he commands.

  The nerve…

  “Sure,” I say sweetly, a fake-ass grin on my face as I cross my legs at my ankles and make a show of getting comfy on my bed. “I went out for ice cream. Strawberry, to be exact. You might even still smell it on my breath.”

  In a move so fast I don’t register it until it’s too late, he’s suddenly caging me in on the bed—his body straddling mine. My arms are pinned above my head, and his face is right at my mouth as a smirk plays on the side of his lips that I can see.

  A full-body shudder wracks me as he makes a show of inhaling my breath. “Sweet, but not strawberry,” he murmurs, his lips almost touching mine. “Try again, Princess. Where have you been?”

  Swallowing thickly, I try to wriggle from his grip, to no avail because he’s older, stronger, and has many centuries of experience over me. He merely seems amused as he settles more of his weight onto me, pressing me into the mattress.

  His hips push my thighs wider apart, and my breaths grow heavier in response to feeling him so close. The scent of my arousal is far more humiliating than I even want to discuss, considering it can’t be ignored or go unnoticed.

  He makes no sound of interest or disinterest. Just stares at me like he wants me to know how much power he has, while I have so little.

  “I did some light shopping,” I say, though it comes out more breathy than snarky or strong.

  “If you want me out of here, you’ll tell me where you’ve been,” he murmurs, sounding distracted as his gaze sweeps down to my cleavage.

  Most of my shirt is ripped open or gashed up from the harbinger battle earlier today. It’s been a rather eventful day, after all.

  My skirt is around my hips, providing very little barrier from his touch. One of his hands grips both of my wrists, holding me there even as I forget to struggle.

  The weight of his gaze doubles when he bites down on his bottom lip and lets his free hand come up to tear open the rest of my shirt, exposing everything up top to him.

  His hips shift, pressing down on me more, as a feral growl forms low in his throat. It’s like my entire body responds, and I embarrassingly roll my hips against him for a little friction.

  His gaze snaps to mine and his eyes narrow.

  “How sick are you, little princess?” he asks, his hand now moving to shove my skirt up even higher.

  I’d rather not answer that question, because the answer is very, very sick. I’m not even trying to stop him from touching me. I want him to dominate me in this moment like no one else has ever been able to do.

  The one man in my past who has touched me nearly broke me by using a sacred bond against me in a way I never believed possible. He was crazy. He was power hungry.

  Now he’s dead. Because Slade killed him.

  For no reason.

  Well, no reason other than he knew what he’d done to me. Or maybe I’m foolishly—and psychotically—romanticizing his actions in my head only.

  My breaths grow shakier as my back arches, pressing into him a little more, wondering if he’ll have the balls to do anything or if he’s just playing one of his head games.

  He quickly rips my panties off, and my heart thunders against my chest, echoing in my ears.

  “You’d really rather me take you than you tell me where you’ve been?” he asks, his voice thicker than usual as he stares at my lips.

  Before I can answer, a blast of power illuminates the room, and Slade is thrown off me, crashing through the wall.

  Well…this is awkward…

  My dad stands in my doorway, his face twisted in fury, as he stalks through the hole in the wall he’s just created. I scramble to cover up with a sheet, just as Slade pushes up to his feet, laughing darkly while looking over at my dad.

  “Bring it, King. Show me what you’ve got,” Slade taunts.

  “You break into my house and force yourself on my daughter and expect to live?” Dad growls.

  Before I can say a thing, Slade answers, “Trust me when I say the last thing I’d ever have to do is force myself on her.”

  He even winks at Dad like he’s trying to get himself killed.

  Rapid blasts and yells of rage come from Dad as he tries to hit Slade. But each streak of power misses. Slade deflects them without even trying, and his eyes land on me, proving how easy it is for him to ruin us all.

  And, like the sick pet I am, I almost turned myself over to the dark devil willingly.

  Suddenly, Sl
ade vanishes from sight, and Dad curses as he yanks out his phone, glaring over at me. “Why weren’t you fighting him?” he snaps.

  Yeah, no. I think it’s best to not give my father this answer.

  At my silence, he goes on. “He’s a volatile ticking bomb, Ella. He’s reckless and unforgiving. He’s cruel and unapologetic. More than once he’s fought against us. His cold logic rules him, and not one ounce of humanity has been shown since our first encounter—”

  “Other than him saving my life and us forming a truce with him,”

  I state too quickly, and then zip my lips when that vein in his forehead peeks out.

  That’s the cue for shut the hell up, Ella.

  “This necessary alliance between us and him is one done out of desperation and complete distrust. Don’t think that means we’ll ever be on solid ground with him,” he grinds out.

  Fortunately, his phone rings, and he spews a few flagrant words before answering. “Yes?” he growls.

  “The Tabor Wolves and the Tree Light coven are having a property dispute again. I’m afraid it needs immediate assistance,” the other person says clearly enough for me to hear.

  His features shift from anger to annoyance, and he blows out a breath while pinching the bridge of his nose.

  His hand falls away as his eyes move to me, and a calculated grin forms on his face.

  Ah, shit.

  “I have the perfect person for the job. I’ll send my daughter to resolve this matter.”

  My eyes narrow to slits.

  This is petty diplomatic stuff. Not things we handle personally. At least not when we’re attempting to stave off an apocalypse.

  “Word of caution; I believe one or both of them are stirring this conflict to be worse than usual. Two of each have gone missing, and both sides claim to have no knowledge of the missing persons,” the person on the other line warns.

  Dad rolls his eyes. “This happened last time too. Ella needs away from the house for a while. Hopefully it will have her reevaluating her current life choices, since her taste in said decisions seem to be poorly lately.”