“We’re not dealing with dark magic alone. It belongs to a rogue soul.”
“A rogue soul? What the hell does that mean?”
“A dark witch tied herself to her magic. She’s host-jumping as a way to exist beyond her death.”
I straighten, attempting to process what he’s telling me. “That’s not possible, though. I’m not a lunar witch; only one soul can reside inside me.”
“According to Ridley, she’s not technically a soul anymore. More like a parasite that attaches itself to yours.”
Realization dawns on me. The voices, the taking control of my body—all things that shouldn’t have been possible with what I know to be true about dark power. “She really is embedded in my soul. How—how do we get rid of her?”
His expression tight, he reaches out with his good arm and cups my cheek. “We will find a way, Bronywyn.”
I go back to cleaning then thread a needle to prepare for stitching.
“I know it’s trivial, but can you not just wake up?”
I jab the needle into his arm and pull it through, stitching as I rack my mind for ways to escape. “I did wake up here. That’s what got me where I am. And I haven’t been able to sleep.” In demonstration, I pause the stitching for a moment and pinch my arm. The sting radiates up my forearm, but nothing happens.
“Fair enough.” He sucks in a breath as I drive the needle back through his torn flesh. “I guess I didn’t really think the exit strategy through, did I?”
Tears burn my eyes as I finish stitching then put some antiseptic on the injury and cover it with gauze. “Why did you come in after me? Is this not dangerous to you?”
“I won’t survive without you Bronywyn.”
The bond.“Oh—”
“And not just because the bond will kill me.” His response makes me wonder if he, too, can read my mind. “I don’t want to live in a world where you don’t exist.” He reaches forward with his good arm and cups my cheek, running his thumb over my skin. “Whatever fight we have to face, whatever enemy we must defeat, I will do it all at your side, Bronywyn. I love you.”
I swallow hard, throat burning from the emotion I am trying like hell to keep inside. And then I recall another memory, one where we binge-watched the classic Star Wars movies because I had never seen them and he’d been determined to show them to me. ‘Life-changing’ he’d called them.
So, instead of letting my tears fall, I force a smile and reply, “I know.”
His answering grin is blinding, and I know that no matter what happens, we will find a way to get the hell out of here.
“All right. We’ve kept you sedated, so I imagine that’s the reason for all the fog and your inability to wake up. Which means we have until your body burns through the last dose to figure out how to bury this fucking shadow. You up for it?”
“Hell yes.”
“Good.” He releases my cheek and hops off the table. “Any clue how to trap a figment of your imagination?”
Stone walls. Iron chains.“I actually think I might know how we can put her back into her place. If it will work, anyway. This is a crazy-ass situation as it is, and no rules seem to apply.”
“Definitely a first for me.”
I close my eyes and imagine myself, trying to focus on— “What the hell are you doing down here, girl?”
“Oh no,” I whisper as I open my eyes. Books rise on all sides, some in shelves, others simply stacked upon the floor. Heavy warmth settles around us from the fire roaring in the hearth just ahead. The smell—tobacco and whiskey—will forever be burned into my mind, and I try like hell to focus on any other memory, any at all.
The shadow did this. I don’t know how, but I know popping into my recurring nightmare from childhood after that threat is not a coincidence.
“Where are we?”
“My childhood home.” I turn my focus to the little girl standing between her mother and the man she’d thought was her father.
“Don’t speak to her that way,” my mother snaps as tears stream down her flushed cheeks.
“Or what? Your Astor is going to come save you? Going to come to your rescue?”