Page 51 of Vervain

Before any fluttering can rise, they’re plucked of their wings. My mum’s words slip back into my mind, telling me to be proper, courteous, and perfect in every way for my husband.

A toxic mindset that women were trained to uphold, for we were trophies in the end. A product to sell and spit out babies.

I’m not sure why my body is reacting this way towards Serun. He isn’t like my Blessed. He won’t threaten me with double meanings. His eyes won’t ask me to always say yes like Jax did…right?

“What do I do?”

His eyes narrow, and his right ear flicks back in irritation, as if a fly had landed on the tip. “You need to tap into your magik. Close your eyes and listen for it. It will feel familiar, but you must shatter the wall you have created around it. Once you have, your magik will be like mine. Unlimited.”

Digging my fingernails into my knees, I shut my eyes, my body startling at the strange sensation of his eyes on me when I can’t see. “What did you hear when you took down your walls?” I ask.

“Death.”

“And what does death sound like?”

“A thousand screams from the same mouth…”

“Sounds sad.”

“Death is sad.”

I bite my lower lip. “I am scared, Serun.”

His breath brushes against my cheek. “Then focus on life.”

Life?

My brow twitches at his words. I’m in a fucking Undercity filled with dead things.

He chuckles.

I roll my tongue across my top teeth, steeling myself. A deep breath in, and my shoulders sag in acceptance on the exhale.

I find nothing. Only loud thoughts telling me this is a stupid idea. But then, the spark of burning wood pricks my ears. The fire devours, burrowing deep into wood and blackening it until it becomes ash.

Then there is the sound of leather groaning when I shift in my seat. My breath becomes harsh in my lungs. The fabric of my dress scrapes against my skin and flames whistle softly on candlesticks.

And through all of that, a rustling slaps along the shell of my ear. Bunching my brows together, I focus on the sound, peeling it away like dead flesh from a festered wound. As I do, a wind brushes against me, light enough to feel, but not enough to cause me to flinch.

Then the leather swallows me. I sink between the cushions, falling inside the black abyss of my mind. The stutter of panic in my heart is a warning siren telling me this is wrong.

Vines appear, snapping onto my body, twisting across my ankles and arms. Sharp thorns tear at my skin, cutting into flesh and stretching out my arms and legs, pulling them in different directions before bursting into bright red flames. Heat burns across my body, eating my skin.

With one final, jagged inhale, I let out a guttural scream.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BASOREXIA

Saya Claymore

“Kamai!”

I suck in a breath, desperate for air. My eyes fly open, and I lean forward, hand on my heart. The room is suddenly washed in radiant light. Sparks shudder in the air, electrifying and angry.

After I catch my breath, I look up to see Serun is gone. Instead, there’s a mass of black shadows eating away at my radiating light. From within the rippling darkness, dilated red eyes watch me.

Easing out a slow breath, the muscles in my body soften, forcing me to relax. My magik fades, returning the room to the golden glow from the fireplace.