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I trace the magic in a wide sweep. A thin, glowing thread of light shimmers into view, connecting the two of us. It’s barely there, almost hard to see, but it is real. A newly forged bond.

Bite. Claim. Mate. My fingers circle his delicate throat, and he arches into my touch. Even in sleep, his body doesn’t lie.

I retract my claws, letting my hand drop safely to my side. “Not like this,” I whisper into the quiet room. Fucking hell, even I can hear the overwhelming wave of devotion in my voice. “I won’t force you. But at least now I know why my soul screamed for you the moment you bled on my crossroads.”

I step back into the shadows near the wardrobe. I summon the Devil Dog, letting its ethereal shadow form materialize onto the mattress. The beast curls its warm body around Bellamy’s waist, resting its shadowy head near his hip to guard him through the night.

I remain in the shadows, keeping watch over my fiery captive.

Chapter nine

Bellamy

Iwrap my hands tighter around the ceramic mug of hot tea Vesper’s unseen staff left on my bedside table, staring out toward the balcony. The morning light cuts through the high arch windows.

Last night’s conversation in the conservatory replays in my mind. I can still picture the way Vesper stood beside me near the hearth, his tall frame casting a protective shadow, his voice steady and absolute as he promised I would never have to shrink myself again. A warm, terrifyingly fragile ache settled in my chest last night, making me feel something dangerously close to hope.

But hope is a fickle thing.

I step out onto the cold stone balcony, pulling my dark woolen sweater tight around my shoulders. I walk to the edge of the wrought-iron railing, looking past the crimson rose garden toward the steep, winding road far below the property line.

My breath catches in my throat. My mug slips from my fingers, shattering against the stone floor, hot tea splashing across my boots.

Down on the road, cutting through the dense gray sea fog, sit three black trucks. Men clad in camouflage. Search hounds that strain against their chains, barking into the fog. Even though he’s too far to see, Jake Davis is parked there too. Two men step out, and I already know it has to be Gregory and Jake.

They’re here. They’re fucking here. Gregory’s paid goons are so fucking close. One sweep of their scopes, and they’d see me. A violent spike of adrenaline rips through my chest. My heart rockets into my throat, hammering against my ribs with sickening speed. I fucking knew it. The luxurious estate, the warm hearths, the soft sweaters—it all evaporates along with that stupid sense of hope, replaced by suffocating terror.

Panic.

It isn’t rational thought driving me, I know; it’s pure panic. The memories of Gregory’s immaculate mansion, the locked doors, the suffocating surveillance, and the quiet humiliation of being treated like a broken toy come rushing back with blinding clarity. If Gregory’s men breach these wards, if they drag me out of this estate, my life is over. He’ll lock me away where no one can ever find me. He’ll fucking break whatever pieces of my spirit are left.

There’s no way I can stay here. I can’t wait inside these walls for someone else to decide my fate. I have to run. I have to get out of this damn town before they find me.

I bolt back inside my room, my breathing coming in sharp, ragged gasps. My hands shake so badly I can barely button my coat over my sweater. Fuck it. It doesn’t need to be buttoned. I pull on my leather boots, tying the laces with frantic, numb fingers.

I don’t even pause to think, I just throw open my bedroom door and sprint down the grand staircase. My subconscious tells me to stop. To slow down. To find Vesper, the fucking demon who promised to protect me. But the irrational side of my brain pushes my body to flee.

The manor is silent, quiet. Too quiet. The shadows cling to the stone walls as I tear past them. I don’t bother with the front doors; I know they’re locked with magic. Instead, I race toward the lower terrace, shoving open the large doors and bursting out into the pouring rain.

I vault over the stone ledge of the rose garden, trampling the dark crimson blooms beneath my boots, and throw myself straight into the towering wall of the redwood forest just inside the estate’s boundary.

The moment the tree canopy swallows me whole, the world turns dark and suffocating. The air smells intensely of wet pine. Low-hanging fog wraps around the thick tree trunks surrounding me.

I run blindly, tearing through thick ferns, jumping over a slick fallen log, and scrambling up a muddy slope. My lungs burn, and my legs grow heavy with exhaustion. Every snap of a twig behind me sounds like Gregory’s men closing in. Every shadow stretching across the forest floor looks like a hand reaching for me. I’m vaguely aware that the shadows are guiding me.

I run until my chest is heaving so violently I can barely stand.

Finally, I stumble to a halt, crashing against the broad trunk of a redwood. I bend double, pressing both palms against my thighs, gasping for air as the terrifying silence of the forest closes in around me.

My chest heaves. My entire body trembles from the terror pumping through my veins. I’m lost deep in the estate’s forbidden woods, surrounded by untamed wilderness.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the forest shifts.

The temperature plunges. A low, unnatural rumble growls through the trees, vibrating up my spine. The shadows loop around the low-hanging branches, writhing and stretching, coiling toward me with supernatural speed.

I gasp. Electricity ripples across my skin.

My head snaps up.