Too entranced by this unexpected feeling she has stirredin me, I ignore the movement between our bodies, her hands shifting.
When she pulls back—just to thrust forward again—I catch the glint of the blade in her fingers. Too late.
The knife slices through the thin fabric of my shirt and drives deep into my flesh. At first, the sensation is a sharp pressure, but soon morphs into searing pain. My fingers clamp around her wrists, my grip tightening with brute force, and a growl breaks from between my teeth. A raw, slightly bitter scent floods my throat, mingling with the iron tang of my own blood.
My muscles lock into place, rigid with shock. Despite my physical advantage, I’m unable to throw Nicole off. She pushes with her full weight, forcing the blade deeper. More pain erupts. Fire spreads through my ribs. My lungs seize as if the very air has been stolen.
I try to tear the weapon from her grip, but my strength falters. My breath comes in short, shallow bursts. My knees give way, and I collapse onto the ground, staring at the Baroness.
Her eyeballs threaten to spill from their sockets, and her entire frame quivers. She hovers over me for a moment, breathing hard. Then she turns and vanishes.
I remain motionless, every nerve in my body throbbing with the weight of my growing weakness. Warm, sticky wetness spreads beneath me.
Damn it. Did she stab me with a poisoned blade?
19
Nicole
Irace across the field, my heart ready to burst. My lungs burn, but I dare not glance behind me, too afraid he might be there.
He can’t be there, Nicole. He’s dead. You killed him.
In the chaos, I charge in a random direction. Once I’m out of the forest, my pace slows. I scan the landscape, but instead of the road or my Mercedes, I see the silhouette of crumbling houses rising in the distance. Damn it! I’ve come out on the wrong side of the forest. I should retrace my steps to find the right path. But doing that would mean passing by his body—a thought that clenches my stomach with dread. Better to press on and find another way around.
With my last bit of strength, I reach the abandoned buildings and collapse. My back hits a rusty fence, and dust settles on my skin, rising from the road. I lower my head between my knees, limbs trembling from exhaustion.
I breathe in, and for the first time, there’s no trace of his scent in the air. He’s no longer seeping beneath my skin like a sickness eating away at every rational part of me.
I bury my face in my hands.
I killed him.
I saw the blood and his face twisting in agony. No one could have survived that. Not even him.
I killed someone.The thought cuts through me and chills me to the bone. I’ve always believed that the end justifies the means, that I’d do anything to carve a path toward my goals… But murder? Damn it.
The trembling worsens, and I don’t have the strength to get up and keep moving.
I nearly allowed Gaetano to kiss me. A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of his hands on my shoulders, his body so close.He was pure charm, Julieta said. Thank God my mother called with the news about Deliberov, snapping me out of the trance. Yet, the realization that I’ll never feel him near again… stirs a strange emptiness in my chest.
I shake my head sharply. Shock muddles my thoughts. And there’s still blood on my hands—red and sticky. The longer I stare at it, the clearer the scent becomes. Sharp, both metallic and sweet…
My body freezes as a shadow looms overhead. Fingers clamp around my throat like an iron trap and haul me upright. My back slams into the fence, breath rushing from my lungs with a hiss.
No. It can’t be…
I meet Gaetano’s eyes. His pupils are unnaturally dilated, and something savage and feral flickers behind them. The marble tone of his skin looks strained, with tendons in his neck tense beneath the surface, and fury etches deep lines into his brow.
My stomach twists in terror.
“You’re proving to be quite the troublesome creature,” he growls.
His palm tightens around my throat. I reach for his wrist, my fingers digging into his skin in a desperate attempt to free myself. He doesn’t budge.
He’s going to kill me. And that will be the end of it. No more riddles. No more obligations to my father.
He’ll take my soul, and kill me, and likely enjoy every second of it…
