I sent a subtle prod to my magic’s source and, just as I’d suspected, hit a barrier that prevented me from summoning fire.
I had a terrible feeling I knew who his master was and did not want my magic bound for our encounter. I glanced at my captor. I’d never heard of wolves transporting anyone with them to the spirit realm, and until now, I wouldn’t have believed it possible, especially for a newly shifted werewolf. Domenico must be immensely powerful. A future alpha in the making.
“Is my physical body still in the Seven Circles?” I asked.
Domenico ran his attention over me, his eyes losing some of that shifter glow. “Yes.”
I wasn’t sure how that was possible, and the werewolf’s glare indicated he wouldn’t answer another question about it. Knowing how dangerous he would be if he fully turned into a wolf, I left well enough alone. He’d given me the important information I needed anyway.
My body was still in Wrath’s bedchamber, and the demon would undoubtedly be searching for a way to bring me back now. If I couldn’t escape on my own, I simply needed to bide my time until he came for my soul and unleashed his power. Anyone foolish enough to attack his bride-to-be in his royal House deserved to feel his namesake sin. I almost grinned, imagining the carnage he’d wreak as he meted out justice, but caught myself.
“It’s freezing here.”
“Not for me.”
I wanted to rub my hands over my arms, forcing warmth back into my nonbody, but couldn’t with the chains. Domenico watched me closely, a menacing gleam entering his eyes. One wrong move would have his jaws clamped around my throat, no matter what his orders were. He was far more volatile than the first time I’d met him, though that was probably from the shift. I’d heard young wolves sometimes took years to fully mature.
Unable to tolerate his silent staring, I cleared my throat. “When I saw you in the monastery after Vittoria’s ‘murder,’ I thought you were praying for her. I later discovered you were there because you’d shifted for the first time. Did you really not suspect what you were before then?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you know what you are, Emilia?”
It didn’t escape me he’d saidwhatnotwho. I had my suspicions, but he didn’t need to know what they were.
“I know I’m your prisoner. I know Wrath will hunt you down and rip you limb from limb if any harm comes to me.” I smiled, a vicious, wicked curve of my lips. The wolf seemed to realize that he might have chained me and bound my magic, but he wasn’t the only predator in the chamber. “And there isn’t a single realm you can hide in before he finds you. That is, if I don’t get to you first. He is the merciful one. Keep that in mind.”
“Well, well, sister.”
Even though I’d been half-expecting her, hearing my twin’s voice caused my heart to clench painfully. My attention shot to the other end of the chamber, landing on Vittoria at once.
My sister glided around the small room like a ghost of the past, wearing a long white gown that flowed behind her as if caught on a phantom breeze. There was a dreamlike quality to her presence, but she was as real as me and Domenico. I carefully looked her over, searching for any injury, though I knew she was the one commanding the werewolf, not the other way around.
Tears pricked my eyes as it all sank in. Vittoria was truly here. Alive. It was hard to believe it had only been an hour or two since I’d learned she wasn’t actually dead. Despite her treachery, I wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let go. This was a goddess-blessed miracle.
“Vittoria.”
It was barely a whisper, but at the sound of my voice, my twin’s lips twitched up in a familiar smirk. If I hadn’t been chained, I’d have collapsed to my knees. Seeing her in the Triple Moon Mirror earlier was one thing; having her here, in front of me, was overwhelming. Words failed as my twin circled closer, watching me curiously.
“Let’s unchain you and see what tricks you’ve learned.” Her lavender eyes glittered, reminding me she had changed entirely. This wasn’t the girl with brown eyes that matched mine. The young woman who’d loved to make her own drinks and perfumes. This stranger was something other. Something that made the fine hair along my arms stand on end. “Goddess knows I’ve got a few of my own to share. Shifter?”
Domenico moved with preternatural speed and fisted my hair, forcing my head to the side. He brought his nose to my neck and drew in a deep lungful of my scent, likely memorizing it to track me if I tried to escape. I cringed from the sudden pain but managed to bite back my yelp.
He snarled, the sound far from human as he brought his mouth to my ear. “Try anything stupid and I’ll rip out more than just your mortal heart, Shadow Witch.”
“Down, puppy.” Vitoria tsked. “Don’t play too rough. Yet.”
Before I could absorb the hurt of that statement or wonder how much rougher things would get aside from being chained, Domenico shoved me away, and with another lazy wave of his hand, the locks on my manacles clicked open. My restraints clattered to the ground, the sound as foreboding as an executioner’s blade coming down on the condemned.
This was it, the moment I’d been dreading, and I felt wholly unprepared.
Heart hammering, I turned my back on the raging werewolf and faced my undead twin, steeling myself as our gazes met and held.
For months Vittoria had let me believe she was dead. Murdered violently. Allowed me to discover her heartless body, broken and bloody in that tomb. Tearing my world apart and destroying who I was on the most basic level. Vittoria’s deceit was a wound that would never properly heal; it would forever leave emotional scars on my soul and in my heart.
Even with her standing before me now, alive and well, there was no hope of ever returning tobefore. Too much had passed between us to simply forget and move on, and that, more than anything else, was something I mourned. No matter how hard I wished otherwise, we’d both changed irrevocably. And I wasn’t sure the pieces of our new lives fit together anymore.
To push past the growing ache in my chest, I thought about my betrothed. Of how my twin had ruined this night for me, too. Instead of sorrow, I focused on the fury,the wraththat had gotten me through my own personal hell. And all emotions, save one, disappeared.
If I’d been capable of feeling worry instead of pure wrath, perhaps my sister’s triumphant grin would have caused a flicker of unease. As it stood,shewas about to discover that she was not the only one capable of instilling apprehension. It was time Vittoria fearedme.