Bastien groaned in satisfaction. “Show me how good.”

  Red light spilled out from beneath my skirts as the horn switched on, vibrating harder than it had before. I gasped in shock before fully giving in to the feeling.

  Bastien’s hand traced up the front of my dress until it closed around my throat. He applied enough pressure to steal my breath, then released me.

  Combined with the vibrations and the way he was looking at me, I was on the brink faster than I could’ve imagined. I tipped my head back, arching into the exhilaration, when a shift in the air made my skin crawl. The phantom press of a body materialized behind me—arms, not quite solid, wrapping around my middle. A hot, shuddering breath brushed my neck, making my entire body tense, straddling the line between terror and submission.

  “Good girl,” the demon praised. He was inside my head. And somehow, whispering in my ear.

  Magick pulsed through me in powerful waves that mirrored the vibrations of the horn, growing stronger and stronger until I thought I might actually rip in half. Fire crackled under my skin. Burning hot. Hotter.

  “I think he’s here,” I said around a gasp. “Gorrath.”

  Bastien looked up, and I didn’t know what he saw behind me. It might’ve been a ghost. “Do you want to stop?”

  “Do you?” I asked.

  Neither one of us answered.

  An invisible hand peeled my fingers off the horn, taking control of it. Sliding it over me. Teasing me. “Bastien,” I gasped, too far gone to stop it. Too close to fight it. Too turned on by the thought of my husband watching it all unfold. If he didn’t want this, he needed to say something.

  I leaned back, surrendering my weight into that invisible chest, a shiver running the length of my spine. The magick inside me surged and writhed, threatening to spill over. My hands fell away, trembling. Bastien hiked up my skirt, his breath ragged, eyes wide as he watched the horn work. “Claire, if you want this to stop, just say the word.”

  “No,” I said, tears pricking in my eyes. The horn twisted so the ridged edge worked against me. My eyes rolled back. “I’m going to come,” I told Bastien. The horn moved to my entrance, threatening to slip inside me.

  “No,” Bastien gritted out. He grabbed the horn and pulled it away. The two of us breathing heavily. My limbs shaking. I felt like I was about to combust into flames.

  “Too far?” I asked. Panting. Sweating. Barely able to focus. “Is it too much?”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s just that we haven’t paid the blood price yet. I want this to work.”

  Horn in hand, he sank his teeth into my thigh. I had to bite down on my lip to keep from screaming in ecstasy.

  After taking a long pull, he spat blood onto the horn. I’d never been more glad for the dark. Then he lifted his own wrist to his mouth and bit down once again, coming away with wet lips as he licked the tip of the horn.

  I shook with unexpressed magick. Fire burning in my chest. My hands. My lips. Everywhere.

  “Now you can come.”

  He pressed the horn back against my heat, holding it against me while his fingers curled inside me. The vibrations and his fingers brought tears to my eyes, and I screamed out into the night, unable to hold back any longer.

  “Gorrath,” Bastien said, the name a plea between heavy breaths. “Damn you. Give it to her!”

  Invisible hands squeezed around my breasts, and whatever magick that had been contained within me escaped. I shook. I whimpered. I screamed. I saw fire and stars behind my eyes. Saw a boy with blond hair and bright blue eyes rising from the ashes. My son. My blood.

  And as free as I felt, I knew it was fleeting. Like the candles I’d lit. There was more that Gorrath wanted. I could almost hear him whispering it to me from behind.

  “He’ll never,” I whispered in response to the request.

  “What?” Bastien asked, reading my face.

  I sucked in a shuddering breath, my whole body aching with the absence of what had just been unleashed. The magick that had poured out of me began to retreat like steam drawn back into a kettle.

  “He needs an heir.” The words burst out of my mouth. “To reestablish the bloodline. It’s his final demand.”

  “An heir?” His gaze dropped to my belly, widening. Then more firmly, he repeated himself. “An heir.”

  Tears leaked down my cheeks. “I won’t beg. I know how you feel.”

  Bastien took my face between his bloody hands. “This is what you want?”

  I studied his face. His beautiful face. And nodded. “Yes.”

  Bastien didn’t offer excuses about my well-being like I thought he would. He simply handed me the horn, and I knew it was over.

  When he reached inside his trousers, I froze. “What are you doing?”

  The horn glowed red, illuminating his hard length, which was already dripping for me, and he slid me onto his lap. “Giving you what you want.” Everything inside me melted. The heat reignited. Then, more tenderly, he said, “Claire, let me put a baby in you.”

  “Bastien?”

  He wrapped my arms around his neck. And as I sank down onto him, he stared adoringly up at me. Something hot and intense jolted through me when he was all the way in. Bastien’s mouth was a ruin of red, but I didn’t care. I lowered mine to his, tasting the flavor.

  He gripped my backside as I rode him deeper. Deeper. The friction and pressure of the position had taken over for the horn. It wasn’t the demon who would make me come, but him.

  “Tell me you’re close,” Bastien said.

  “I’m close,” I moaned.

  “What do you need? Because I’m right there.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Tell me you want this baby. Tell me it isn’t just about the magick.”

  His reply scraped against me. “I want this baby.”

  Bastien moaned, and warmth spread through me. As soon as I felt it, the heat consumed me. I was lost. Gone to the flames. Gone to him. Just… gone.

  Chapter 20

  Basculer

  CLAIRE

  Iawoke with a start. Bastien was shouting for Devlinn as he held me in his arms.

  “I’m right here, Your Grace!” Devlinn took one look at the blood on our faces and said, “I take it that you found a way to make the ritual work?”

  Tansy rushed to my side, smoothing back my hair. “Of course they did. Look at her eyes, they’re red.”

  They were? Had it worked? Had we done it? I couldn’t seem to remember anything after that flash of heat.

  “Are you alright to stand?” my mate asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  He carefully set me on my feet, then opened the waterskin he kept on his belt and offered it to me. “Drink.”

  I took a big sip and used it to rinse the blood and black rot out of my mouth before swallowing.

  “Give her the spell to open the door,” Bastien directed Devlinn.

  He drew his sword, and I gave him a bewildered look. “The werewolves are coming. They’ve caught our scent.”

  With his weapon in hand and pale blond hair catching in the wind, I longed to be back in his arms. He’d done the thing he’d sworn he’d never do. And he did it to help me get my magick. I couldn’t explain what it meant to me to know this man would do anything, anything for me.

  “I take it Miss Donadieu can use her magick now?” Tyson asked, being pointedly discreet. He was standing behind Tansy, along with Lady Okeri. Both wore matching looks of amusement.

  Embarrassment heated my cheeks. Tyson was a vampire after all, and his preternatural hearing meant he likely heard everything. Although I think I was loud enough that the whole army might know.

  “You will protect her. With your life,” Bastien commanded his nephew. “Swear it on your honor as an Allard and as my heir.”

  The word heir caused me to touch my stomach. The warmth of his seed was already leaking between my thighs.

  “I swear it,” Tyson said.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, already knowing but not wanting to believe it.

  Bastien continued speaking to Tyson as if he hadn’t heard me. “As soon as the door is open, get everyone inside as fast as you can. I’m trusting you.”

  Only then did his eyes find mine. I knew he didn’t want to leave his nephew in charge. He wanted to stay by my side and protect me. And even though I wanted him near while I tried to work this spell, and for a million other reasons, he was the general.

  “Go. We’ll get the door open.”

  His pained look nearly broke my heart in two. “I know you will.”

  “I love you,” I told him through our bond.

  “I love you with everything inside me.”

  He was gone in the snap of a black cloak, disappearing into the press of bodies. Shouts and the scream of steel rent through the air.

  “The spell, Devlinn! Give her the spell!” Tansy shouted, shoving him forward.

  He quickly explained what I needed to say. I practiced the words a few times, still feeling weak. He handed me my wand back and gave me an encouraging smile. “You are powerful. You can do this.” Taking another deep breath, I reached toward the stone archway, channeling every bit of magick I could muster. This was my chance to prove myself, to show everyone that I could be strong.

  I focused on pushing the magick through the wand, inch by inch. But it felt foreign. Like the wood didn’t want to answer my call.

  Come on, demon.

  “Don’t think of the wand as something separate from you,” Devlinn reminded me. “Think of it as part of you.”

  I kept at it, repeating the spell again. As I let the magick flow, something inside me clicked, like a key fitting into an ancient lock, and the power surged through me, into the wand.

  When it did, the sound of a rusty chain paying out came from somewhere behind the arch. The metallic sound sped up, tipping the stone door backward. A sharp blast of musty air escaped from the gap as it continued to lower in fits and starts, inch by inch, until it revealed a narrow passageway wide enough for only one person to squeeze through at a time, leading down into darkness.

  My white wolf pushed her head into my hand and whined. I swallowed hard.

  “You did it!” Tansy cheered as she threw her arms around my neck. I wanted to celebrate with her, but there was something about the darkness I didn’t like.

  “Of course she did!” Devlinn was saying. “She had an excellent mentor. If I do say so myself.”

  “As much as I love a good celebration, it’s time to go. Uncle’s orders.”

  “I should help them hold the line while the rest of the army retreats underground,” Okeri said.

  “You don’t get to kill werewolves while I babysit the witches.”

  I crossed my arms. “We can hear you, you know?”

  Okeri gave Tyson a stern look that made his grin falter. She pointed to the opening with her sword. “It’s going to take ages to get everyone through this passageway in single file.”

  Tyson shrugged. “I don’t care how long it takes. I need you. You know that. And we agreed to stay together.”

  He said the last line under his breath, and it reminded me of how young he was. Eighteen. And had never left the capital before. The two of them were like me and Sera leaving Prideaux Hill for the first time.

  The fight left Okeri, and she dropped her sword. “Right. Together.”

  Something warm and cold twisted in my chest, causing tears to prick in the corners of my eyes. I went to grab my bloodstone to let Bastien know that we’d done it, when I realized he hadn’t put it back on me after the spell. It was still in his pocket.

  Panic landed in my chest, and something in me wanted to run back to him. Even if he was fighting werewolves. I had magick now. I could help.

  Tyson grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me back toward the arch. “My uncle gave me a very clear order. To get you into the tunnels.”

  I thought to argue, but there was no time. The longer we lingered, the longer the army would need to fight.

  A soldier handed Tyson a lit torch. “Stay between Lady Okeri and me, and everything will be fine.” A grin split across his face. “Until we meet my cousin in the tunnels and she realizes not only have we managed to get through the spell on the door without her, but that our uncle entrusted me with leading the mission.”

  Tansy set her hands on my shoulders, right behind me, and together, with my wolves, we followed after Tyson. I tried not to worry about my husband. I knew he was a fearless warrior, and his fighters would protect him. But still, doubt buried in me as we continued to descend into the endless dark.

  The path leading down into the graveyard tunnels reminded me of the one that led down into Imogen’s cave. Except that instead of stairs, it was damp earth. Every so often, my boot would get stuck in the soft dirt, and my ankle would twist.

  “Stay alert,” Tyson whispered. “I sense heartbeats.”

  “Heartbeats? As in… there are people down here?” I asked.

  I set my hand on my belly. Wondering if there’d be a heartbeat inside of me soon.

  “Well, this is a place of peace,” Tansy offered. “That’s what His Grace said. So it would make sense for people to be down here. Especially with the wolves running around.”

  “Exactly,” Tyson said.

  I gave Tansy an encouraging smile, but it was hard to trust Tyson when he’d never been in these tunnels before, and his bravado overruled his sense of right and wrong. But I had no choice but to keep my wand aloft and my ears open. I couldn’t hear anything over the shuffle of feet and murmur of voices behind us.

  I kept waiting to hear Bastien’s voice or feel him beside me, but after a long while, he still hadn’t appeared.

  We continued descending deeper and deeper into the twisting passage. Tyson stopped and lifted his torch, illuminating a word that had been painted onto the crumbling bricks:

  PEACE.

  It was comforting to see that the people of the Lawless Lands valued peace. They had created these tunnels. They were open to negotiations with Bastien. Then, Tyson moved the torch, and three more words jumped to life: IS A LIE.

  “It’s probably just kids who wrote it,” Tansy said with a laugh. But she leaned a little closer to me just the same. After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel opened up into a cavernous chamber with the kind of cathedral ceilings that belonged inside Château Rose, not a mile below a graveyard.

  “Well, would you look at that,” Tyson said, holding up his torch so the light extended further.

  My chest tightened around a half-drawn breath. “It’s a river,” I said. But instead of water, it was filled with a silvery substance that looked like mercury. The water, or whatever it was, moved, rushing toward an arch in the wall that was large enough for a small canoe to pass under.

  “By Diana,” I breathed.

  “Please don’t invoke the goddess right now,” Tansy said, half-teasing, half-serious.

  I bit my lip. Saying and thinking her name was second nature. But down here, out of sight from the moon, I didn’t think she could hear me. However, Diana must leave her place in the sky every once in a while if she visits the Underworld to have children with Damien. Everything I’d ever been told, every story, was a lie. Tansy was right. I needed to stop invoking the goddess.

  Cautiously, we walked closer to the river, where there were small wooden boats tied up along the edge, bobbing and colliding into one another in the current. I didn’t say it out loud, but something about the river felt alive.

  Tyson abruptly turned, shining his light deeper into the cavern. “What in the…?”

  Chapter 21

  Déraper

  CLAIRE

  Ifroze, heart racing, as I turned toward the orange halo of light. In the far corner of the chamber was a cluster of shapes huddled together. Our group took a step forward, extending the light until it illuminated children. Little knees were tucked to chests. Their red hair tangled. Their clothes hung off small frames.

  They were watching us like we were monsters.

  My heart broke for them. They were alone in this dark place. The oldest girl appeared to be no more than sixteen. Tansy’s fingers slipped into mine, and she squeezed hard. Her hand was ice-cold. I squeezed back harder.

  “Stay with Miss Donadieu,” Tyson told Okeri. She positioned herself in front of Tansy and me with her sword drawn.

  I waved off his concern. “I don’t need to be protected from children. They’re scared. That’s all.”

  “My uncle would disagree,” he shot back. Tyson sheathed his sword and crouched beside the children.

  Devlinn followed after him, already unstrapping the waterskin from his belt. “Here,” he said softly. “Drink. You must be thirsty.”

  The children flinched, and none reached for the water. Their eyes kept darting past him. Past Tyson. Like they were watching the dark for signs of life. Perhaps their parents or whoever was caring for them.

  The oldest girl stood, a wand in one hand. It wasn’t the wand that scared me. But her eyes. There was something in them that didn’t belong to a child. Like someone had reached inside her and scooped her childhood clean out.

  I knew that look, and the realization hit so hard it almost knocked the breath out of me.

  It was the look formed by long nights alone, staring at the ceiling and wondering if the gods heard your prayers or if your voice just disappeared somewhere between your mouth and the sky. The kind of nights where you whispered please. Then why. Then nothing at all. Because eventually you stopped asking for things to be different and started assuming you must deserve it.

  It was the look you wore after being hit so many times they didn’t even have to raise their hand anymore to make you flinch. Your body just knew what to expect. It was the look that drew my least favorite question, “What’s the matter with you?” Like they had no responsibility for your inability to smile.

  And worst of all, it was the look you wore when you started wondering if the world might be better off without you. When you caught yourself imagining how quiet everything would be if you just… weren’t here. If no one had to trip over you anymore. If no one had to sigh when you walked into a room. But you were too scared to do anything about it. Or maybe—on the better days—too hopeful. Too stubbornly, stupidly hopeful that something might change.