ARAH
He shoved her back into the shower, spinning her around before she could catch her breath. Her palms slapped against the cool tiles as water cascaded over her back, the chill biting into her skin.
Gildeon was right behind her—heat, hard muscle, and raw power. She felt his erection, thick and demanding, pressed hot against her lower back. A needy moan slipped from her lips. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.
“I don’t think the witches will burst in and stop us,” she muttered. “Why can’t we just do it?”
“They will,” he rasped. “Trust me.”
Was there something else he wasn’t telling her? Before she could ask, his teeth sank into her shoulder. The sharp bite stole her breath, and she cried out—a mix of pain, yes, but pleasure too. “I want to fuck you hard, Arah. But not yet.”
His words intensified the throb between her legs.
ARAH“Then who did it?” she asked, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her mind flashed back to that night—to her terrifying encounters with each man. “Are you saying someone else gave the order?”“That is impossible,” the guard replied. “Once they are tethered to me, no one else can control or compel them without my knowledge.”“So what, you just… lost control?” Her fingers tightened around the edges of the box she was holding. As disturbing as the idea of Stringmaster trying to kill her that night was, it was at least better than this—the uncertainty, the lack of explanation for what had really happened.On a more positive note, it could be a weakness. If Arah and Gildeon could figure out how to exploit it—how to push Stringmaster into losing control of their puppets—it might just give them the edge they needed to bring down the cloaked witch.
GILDEONThey didn’t waste a second. He’d sworn never to leave Arah alone with the witches again, but this situation with Roselia demanded immediate action.Ghulik had guaranteed Arah’s safety, even with her hanging out with Stringmaster. That was enough to settle his mind. For now.During the drive, all he could think about was how he’d convince Roselia to help with the fight tonight. Knowing he might need her again for moments like this, asking her to stay at their place instead of allowing her to return to her farmstead, had already been a lot. Now he needed her to help the very people who once—and still—wanted her dead.He’d have to brace himself for a long, drawn-out argument.“How’s she been?” Alaunus asked, breaking the silence. He’d been staring out the passenger window, watching the shops and houses blur by. The way his red hair caught the late morning sunlight reminded Gildeon so much of Roselia. Had he not known better, h
GILDEONRoselia took a long gulp of her tea. “I can’t believe you’ve got the nerve to ask me that, My Lord,” she seethed, glancing up from the table, throwing him a pointed look. “You made a deal with them behind my back, and I made peace with that. Yet now you need me to help them?”Barky briefly stole his attention. The dog was sprawled out in the middle of the kitchen floor, front paws extended, hind legs tucked beneath him like a sphinx. His tail wagged in a slow, heavy rhythm, dark eyes fixed on Gildeon. Something about it felt off, unsettling, but he didn’t know much about Earthland’s domesticated animals, so it could be nothing.Roselia spoke again, and his eyes flicked back to her. “You’ve no idea how much every single one of them,” she said, waving a hand toward the far window, “even Alaunus, would want me dead the first chance they get.”“You’re part of the deal, Roselia,” he said, pinching the spot between his brows. “No one’s
ARAHShe had no idea what was about to happen, but she steadied herself, bracing for the worst. The guard glanced at the ceiling camera and raised a hand, signaling to someone unseen. Seconds later, the control panel lights buzzed and shifted from red to green. Her head whipped from side to side, scanning the block. There was no upper level, which was a relief. But with six doors on each side clicking open—except for the last three at the far end—the numbers were still overwhelming.Her pulse hammered in her ears. She flexed her left arm, ready to call on the power of her wind tattoo if things went sideways.She held her breath.Her skin crawled as the escort guard let out a deep, unnatural roar, something no human throat should be able to produce. What the hell was that? A chorus of growls erupted from the prisoners’ cells, as if they were responding to the guard. The collective sound sent a fresh chill down her spine.
ARAHCrystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow. Velvet curtains draped along the walls. The decorations were sophisticated yet outdated.“Where am I?” Arah whispered, glancing around. Stringmaster and the inmates were nowhere in sight. How had she ended up here? Drusden’s fog came to mind. Had she been caught in it again?This looked nothing like Shamibar. It couldn’t be another memory. This was still Earthland—but from a completely different time. People in tailcoats and ball gowns filled the room. Some were seated on plush chairs, others standing with glasses of wine, a few men with cigars between their lips.“My love, I have been cursed!” A woman’s voice rang out, drawing her attention to a small makeshift stage at the front of the room. It felt like a theater play, but with only one performer and a smaller, intimate audience. The room had a private air, as if it were part of a wealthy person’s home.
ARAHThe scene shifted to a cemetery. Arah watched as Marianne knelt before her mother’s tomb, fidgeting with a faceless doll in a worn dress. Marianne spoke about how she’d sometimes pretend her mama was in the doll—one that Anne had once owned. It was dirty now, nearly bald.Tears welled in Marianne’s eyes as she spoke about her work. Arah could feel the burden of it all, the pressure Edmond was placing upon her. She knew exactly what that was like.Marianne’s face clouded with sadness as she vented about how her papa would’ve been happier if she had been the one who died instead. “You should have lived, Mama,” she whispered, brushing dry leaves from the stone. “I should never have been born.”The words triggered something in Arah, a familiar ache tightening in her chest. Though she couldn’t remember the exact details, she knew she had once said and felt something similar—that she should’ve been the one who died. That Siegfrid and Irmee
ARAHShe was transported to a lavish party at a big house that didn’t belong to Marianne and her father. The air was filled with chatter and laughter. Couples danced in the spacious center of the room as violins and cellos played in the background. Women talked about fashion and jewelry, while the men were engrossed in serious discussions about business and war.In the corner, she spotted Marianne, drinking alone, fully aware of the other women gossiping about her—women who once fawned over her to be friends. Arah pursed her lips. She hated those types of people.“I cannot believe Madame invited her,” one woman commented in a shrill voice. “She is nothing but a faded glory now. No one cares for her anymore.”“If she possessed even a shred of decency,” added another, “she would not dare show her face in society any longer.”Even men would quietly advise one another not to ask Marianne to dance. Some even deliberately avoided walking
ARAHDark Plane.This was one of those moments where the word felt familiar... like it was right there on the edge of her memory, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t grasp it completely.Drusden continued explaining to Marianne the two types of witches and how a human could cross over to that other dimension and receive a gift. It was different for everyone, he said, and there was always a cost. No one knew what that price would be until after what he called a ‘cosmic trade’ was officially made.Arah wondered what the Dark Plane was like. Just the name itself evoked a sense of evil and danger. Could sylphs and salamanders travel there too? Would they also gain additional power?“How am I supposed to cross this...” Marianne gestured vaguely, a slight frown forming on her face. “Dark Plane you speak of?”“You cross it as you would cross any other place, woman.” A raspy voice echoed from the shadows at