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My teeth chattered—breaths turning to ice for every exhale. Stumbling forward, a faint, pinkish glow began to take form—drawing me in.
A rose?
I questioned but there was nothing else it could be. Resting on an ivory pedestal was a beautiful, brilliant red rose protected under glass. Sweetly delicate petals burst from the stem, defying nature and refusing to wilt, brown, or die.
It defied nature in every way. It had no roots, no water, and no foundation. The impossible rose floated above the pedestal, glowing with the magic that made it be, and as I took it in, the thrumming heartbeat stopped instantly—leaving only its faint echo in my ears.
Beautiful. So very beautiful... and I wanted to throw up at the sight of it.
The flower waswrong. So terrifyingly wrong, I wanted to rip off the glass and smash it—crush it under my heel and wipe the horrid thing from the world. I might’ve done so if I could bring myself to get closer to it. I didn’t even want to be as close as I was.
Clapping my hand over my mouth, I fought the bile rising in my throat.The cold and dark. This thing was the reason. I didn’t know how I knew, but it was sucking the heat from the air, the light from the world, and the joy in my heart.
Revulsion and hate burned in my chest gazing at the thing. Bitterness and regret drowned me. The voices in my head screamed for me to run!
This was not Alisdair’s heart. This was no one’s heart. Nothing and no one could’ve ever survived with that thing in their chest. This was some kind of dreadful magic—earthed from the deepest, darkest depths of forbidden spells.
This thing... was a curse.
I flung myself away, gagging. My feet tangled and I fell, my hand flying out grabbing for something to break my fall. I closed on something and it gave way—dropping me flat on the freezing floor.
Groaning, I pushed up and locked on to furious, rage-filled eyes.
“Ahh,” I cried, scrambling back. But she didn’t follow.
The glow from the appalling rose cast long shadows over the portrait, revealing her face bit by bit.
Hard, unsmiling mouth. Dark eyes. Severe cleft chin. Sharp cheekbones casting their own shadow over gaunt cheeks, and raven hair falling in wisps and tangles around her shoulder. At first glance, it was a portrait of a woman during tragedy, but flicking back to her eyes I knew... she was the tragedy.
Hurriedly I grabbed the sheet and threw it back over her. I suddenly didn’t know why I was here. Alisdair wouldn’t hide hisheart in this cold, dark, frightening place. I wouldn’t even tie Kirwan up and lock him in this room. This wasn’t for things you cared about. It wasn’t even for things you hated. It was just a room you didn’t go near like an abandoned cellar that had been flooded over and was now riddled with mold and decay. There was nothing for you down there. There was nothing for me here.
Moving away, I turned my back on that rose and was glad to do so. I would return to my bed and my husband, letting his warmth and nearness banish the chill from my bones, and the sludge that ghastly thing leeched on my soul.
Passing the floating rectangles, curiosity tickled me. Were they all portraits of that strange woman? If so, who painted them? Was it Alisdair?
Alisdair never told me he could paint, and he told me a great many things in exchange for my knees on the floor and my lips around his cock.
I slowed, lingering on a sheet-covered canvas looming on my right. My fingers curled around the linen before I could stop it, pulling it off.
“Wow,” I breathed, coming to a standstill.
No. Every portrait was not of that woman. She was night and day the woman smiling back at me, and I meant that almost literally.
Where there was anger and distaste bleeding out of the brushwork of the first portrait, the one before me was bursting with life, joy, and color. A beautiful woman with sun-burnished auburn hair beamed the widest, brightest smile—teasing the dimples from her cheeks and the light in her hazel eyes.
I didn’t have to ask if this was Raelina. Her name was scrawled across the bottom of the canvas. Seeing her, it was easy to understand how two men could fall hopelessly in love with her. And it was simple to see why one man would hate the other for the rest of his life for destroying this woman and her smile.
I swept the gloom, taking in the many covered paintings. Crossing to the other side of the room, I reached for another sheet.
“What are you doing?!” A hand snatched mine back, hauling me across. I screamed as I was shoved back and pushed against the wall. “How did you get in here!”
Alisdair’s red, bulging eyes threw me into a sea of rage. I’d never seen him so angry.
“I was— I was just—”
“You were what!”
“I was just leaving,” I cried, yanking at my captured wrist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
