Chapter 22: Titus - Voice - Change

Titus
Voice

I woke with the undeniable sense that something was very, very wrong.

It felt as though a knife was piercing my chest—a pain that overshadowed the agony coursing through my arms. And if that wasn’t enough to remind me of my imprisonment, the ominous glittering of black mirrors in gold-plated frames were a visual reminder of the hellfire that the onmyoji used to keep me contained.

There was serious magic at play here, more than I even understood. There was no other way for people like Jameson and Albert to amass the strength necessary to perform a spell of this magnitude without outside help.

I had to get to Bianca. I still had no idea where she was, or even how she was in trouble, but it’d been impossible to ignore this growing number of coincidences.

Why would she be in trouble now otherwise?

“Where’s Bianca?” I growled, my chest swelling with urgency and fury.

Albert had been cracking chestnuts from his seat near the closed metal doorway, and the redhead glanced up at my question. “Oh,” he frowned, his freckled face turning pale. “You’re awake.”

I wanted to insult him—to ask him if he really believed that even with all of this, they really believed they’d be able to hold me for long. Already I could feel their control slipping.

But now wasn’t the time.

Concern for Bianca was making it harder for me to ignore my instincts.

I wanted to shift. Every fiber of my being ached for it. My arms shook against the burning resistance of the magic forcing me to stay human. And I also had a personal desire too, a need to shed this limited form and rip everyone to pieces. My skin vibrated and hardened with the slight touch of the beginnings of my transformation, but nothing happened.

I was stuck in this weaker, more vulnerable, state. And while I was helpless, anything could be happening to Bianca.

She was on her own. Defeated. And I had to help her. I couldn’t get past the helplessness in her voice. It clawed at my senses.

It was a dream, but it wasn’t. I rarely ever connected with Jin—though I’d had more experience in working with my past lives than the others—but preferred to allow my baser instincts to take over.

Our relationship was unique. Unlike the others, who were reborn in every life as a different individual with learned memories, the dragon part of me was directly inherited: memories and abilities.

That’s the only reason we were able to reach through the fragile bond that Bianca and I currently shared—it might not be as strong as it could have been, but as Bianca gained strength, and the more time we spent together, it would grow stronger.

“Where’s Bianca?” I asked again, my shoulders straining as I leaned forward against my bindings. The blank look on his face caused my anger to grow. “Don’t play stupid. You know exactly who I’m talking about! The fae that you’ve got hidden around here somewhere!”

At this, Albert made a sound of understanding. “The girl!” He nodded, and I could almost see the lightbulb of understanding appear over his head, and he grinned. “Oh, so you do know her?”

“Yes, she’s…” I began, the reply slipping out before I could stop myself. I hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time, and panic was already tearing its way out of my chest.

She wasn’t dead—I should feel that, at least. Hopefully.

I might not even know.

But even if she wasn’t, that didn’t mean she was okay. She didn’t sound okay at all. Since I hadn’t shifted, I couldn’t access her thoughts. But I could hear it in her voice. Something terrible had happened, and I wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was only being drained for her energy.

“She’s Bryce Dubois’s wife,” I told him. It was so hard to keep a straight face at my next statement, but I had to persevere, “He’ll kill you if you hurt her.”

Albert frowned, his eyebrows drawing together in contemplation. But fear was absent from his scent.

On one hand, I didn’t blame him; Bryce didn’t scare me either. Though most people—including Albert—should have found the threat of the infamous Er Bashou going on a murderous rampage at least a tiny bit terrifying.

Bryce would have to defend his ‘wife’.

I still believed it was stupid, but the others had put together the paperwork before telling me. Probably because they knew I’d tell them that it was an idiot plan.

Only Miles would come up with something so annoying.

If we’d gone with my plan, it would have been better. I could have just broken into the hospital and taken Bianca away. If anyone had bothered to ask my opinion, I’d have told them that a vacation at a nice, sandy beach might be exactly what she needed.

But no one ever consulted me. They just wanted me to fix everything after.

“Since when do you care what Bryce Dubois does?” Albert asked.

A valid question, because I didn’t.

But Bianca did, even if she tried to deny it, so I had to be nice. His actions now impacted her.

“He’s friends with Damen.” It was the only thing that made sense—and was marginally true. Their newly formed relationship was tentative, at best.

Albert made a sound of understanding and moved to his feet. “That makes sense,” he said. “You always do whatever Damen tells you.”

“Shut up.” The stabbing pain was growing weaker, but a hollow feeling was taking its place. I wasn’t sure which was worse, but it took every ounce of my control not to give into my fear.

She was dying.

I wasn’t sure how I knew this, especially without being bonded fully as quintet members or as mates, but the spark that made her her was fading.

Mu was almost gone from this world.

I didn’t understand. A simple energy-draining spell shouldn’t come close to killing her.

“What have you done with her?” I hoped that the onmyoji still feared me enough to respond.

Albert shrugged, gesturing to the four mirrors with his upturned hands. “It’s hard work to keep you in line, but this should hold until we’re ready.”

Ready?

Ready for what?

I was about to demand to know when I glanced at the floor, and my breath stopped.

A magic circle—so faint now that it was almost imperceivable—ran the distance of the room, with one of the mirrors resting on each point of the star.

I knew about the mirrors already, but I hadn’t considered the manner in which they’d robbed energy from Bianca.

“You son of a bitch!” Panic and fury clashed into me, and I pulled at my bindings, wanting nothing more than the opportunity to be free—if only for an instant—and rip the smirk off his face. “How did you find that spell?”

There were many ways to extract energy from a person, but only one that could drain a person to the point of death. The body had ways to prevent such things from happening; the victim would generally be knocked out, and their natural defenses would rise, blocking any further work from happening.

But this was some forbidden witchcraft that Miles had all but wiped out from the archives a long time ago.

A witch was working with them. Someone who had access to heavily kept secrets. But who?

“Does it matter?” he asked. “The important thing is that it’s working. But you didn’t answer my question. Why do you care?” He was studying me. “You’ve done some messed up shit. One dead fae shouldn’t bother you.”

Dead.

I tried to lunge at him. This blinding pain was nothing compared to what would happen if I’d lose her now. The chains pulled against my arms and, at the ceiling, the metal joints creaked under the strain. But it wasn’t enough, and I stopped after a few inches.

“I’ll kill you!” I snarled at him. No matter what else happened, he was going to die.

Finally, a hint of fear crossed his expression. A part of me was somewhat mollified. But then the look was gone too soon, and unease trickled down my spine as the onmyoji’s scent began to leak caution.

“You really want to know?” He was no longer smiling, nor was his tone light, and he stepped toward me, expression critical. “The wolves were dying to play with her since we’d picked her up, but Jameson and I—well, we needed her around, for obvious reasons. Since her usefulness has worn off—and they’d been so helpful—we let them have her to dispose of her how they will.”

My throat burned under the vibrating force roaring through me, and my vision bled.

I was going to kill them. Kill, kill, kill…

There would be nothing left.

“It’s been a good minute since they’d left,” Albert mused as he slowly paced the room, but his eyes never left me. “I’m sure she’s meat by now.”

My heart exploded in a frenzy, and all senses went blank.

She was dead.

Dead, dead, dead.

Or worse, dead and violated. It was something rogues would do. Her biggest fear was that something like this would happen, and I’d been unable to stop it. I’d promised her she’d be safe. And she should have been fine with Gloria and Ada. I firmly believed in this.

Otherwise, I would never have let her be alone with them.

What happened?

It didn’t matter. They were dead too.

If they weren’t already, then I’d kill them. I’d kill everyone who touched her, and those who failed in protecting her. She was mine, and they should have known better. I’d left them in charge, and they let something happen to her.

Failure was never acceptable, and this time the consequences were earth-shattering.

She’d trusted me.

And I let her down—even more than the others would ever know.

I was there when she connected with the dragon-wannabe—the witch’s spell—in the woods and dove into her own memories. It’d been proof that even without knowing each other in this life, without ever having met, that there was a part of her that subconsciously sought me out. We were connected in a way that couldn’t be broken no matter what distance and circumstance.

Bianca never wanted a prince; she’d chosen a dragon.

Everything had been set up for my success. But I still let her down.

Again.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Jameson stormed into the room, but I ignored him, continuing to rage. It might not be too late, despite what they said. I should be able to feel if she’d died, right?

Or maybe it didn’t work that way anymore.

The incident with Bailey had already shattered my confidence.

A piercing whistle cut through the madness, assaulting my eardrums, followed, some long seconds later, but the looming weight of shikigami. While Albert wasn’t at all a threat on his own, the combined presence of two spiritual demons was enough to stave off the sharp edges of my fury.

My sight cleared, yet remained slightly coated in a violent haze, as my focus levelled on the two onmyoji while they conversed.

“What did you do?” Jameson seemed to grow more unhinged every time I saw him. But, granted, before today that wasn’t often. But we’d met at least once during the holidays, and the man had never struck me as the insane sort before.

And he’d have to be insane to betray his quintet. He knew Declan personally.

Albert, on the other hand, was a lower-ranking onmyoji who had high aspirations and mediocre talent. The only person in his bloodline who’d managed to break the mold had been Norman, Damen’s Jiangjun.

As further proof of his insanity, Albert smirked in response to Jameson’s concerned questioning. “I was telling the dragon about our little fae prisoner.” He crossed his arms, glancing at me. “Or at least, what’s left of her.”

A growl raised in the back of my throat while Jameson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you an idiot?”

Yes. But he was the only one telling me anything.

“No.” Albert’s expression was growing increasingly annoying, yet something about it was causing my hackles to raise defensively. “But don’t you think it’s a bit strange how concerned he is about this girl?”

“I don’t have time for this.” Jameson sighed, glaring in exasperation. “Instead of trying to throw him into a rampage, you should be focusing on helping me. This does not help. We’ve a schedule to keep.”

Albert lowered his arms back to his side, stepping back. “I am helping. If there’s a connection there, we could use this—”

“Whether he’s concerned or not isn’t even an issue—she’s gone.” Jameson pulled out his phone and began to swipe at the keys. “Our first priority is getting back on schedule; we still need to hold him until we get to base. It’s only further proof that our plan is divinely inspired that she was even there to help with this. Otherwise, this part would have taken months, the Overseers’s perception of time is much different than ours.”

Albert threw me another long look, then nudged at his companion. “He’s glaring at me. Don’t you think it’s the least bit perturbing? Who do you think she is—”

“Was.” Jameson cut in, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “And it doesn’t matter. Stop antagonizing the dragon and let’s go. We’ve some last-minute arrangements that require both our signatures.”

It was impossible to converse in words anymore. Despite my situation, and the bindings throwing flame and fire along every nerve, I continued to linger in that pinnacle state in between transformations. The monster in my head was roaring, fighting to free himself from this containment. In this lifetime, we’d never been closer to complete destruction than at this moment.

If only I could break free—there was no way I’d be able to be taken again in this state. And Jameson, at least, understood this. His expression was growing more unsettled each time he looked in my direction.

The energy they were using would wear off eventually, then nothing could stop me. They were dead—all of them. I’d waited to move on the Guild long enough and look where it had gotten me.

Fuck keeping a secret or working within the confines of the system. None of that mattered anymore.

The only thing that was important was revenge.

“He’s going to kill you.” Jameson’s calm voice didn’t match his growing discomfort. He was looking at Albert but didn’t seem to be concerned at all by this news. “You know that, right?”

“He can’t. We’re fine.” Albert was annoyingly confident as he ignored his much-wiser companion. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“Not we.” Jameson shrugged, heading for the door. “We will succeed, and you’re right, he’s not going anywhere. But you’ve pushed too far in whatever game you’re playing, and now you’ve made yourself the focus of a dragon’s fury. He’ll be with us for the rest of his short life, but that look is a promise. Even if it’s to his own detriment, and he’s surrounded by enemies, you’re going to die the second we give him any sort of leeway.”

Albert swallowed, and a fresh wave of anxiety radiated from the man. Finally, he was aware of his situation. “But… we won’t give him any leeway.”

“It’s your funeral,” Jameson called over his shoulder. “You’ll have better chances the sooner we leave, so we can finish this. So, let’s go.”

The growing scent of Albert’s discomfort was a balm over the raw edges of my hysteria. I wanted to smell more of it—I needed it. Nothing would make things right again, but to be able to surround myself in the scent of their terror, to see their blood stain the walls, might ease a fraction of the knot painfully pressing against my chest.

I could have reveled in their fear forever, it was almost a distraction from the sinking feeling in my stomach. But before anything else, I needed to get to them first—because, surely, the others were on their way. Someone must have felt something, or even noticed that Bianca had been gone longer than necessary. I had to escape if only for the chance to be the one who rent them limb from limb.

Because if they arrived before I could get free, I’d lose my chance.

Damen would take over. He’d been growing increasingly unstable as of late, and it would only take something like this to throw him over the edge. Julian and Miles too. None of them would hold back. There’d be no stopping any of us, and our enemies would pay.

But for once, I wanted to be selfish.

I wanted to be the one to kill them. This was personal.

The door slid closed, leaving me alone in the dimly lit room. A single lightbulb hung precariously on a wire far above me, and its unstable flickering was growing increasingly irritating.

Even that, though, failed to hold back the torrent of my thoughts.

Bianca.

Where was she now? Was it true that she was gone?

It was impossible to tell—it’d been growing harder to distinguish between what was real and my imagination. For example, I thought she’d liked me recently and was no longer afraid, but that could have been wishful thinking on my part too.

I’d been holding myself back. We wanted nothing more than to be close to her. I would go as slow as she needed—take as long as she wanted—before even approaching the subject of what a real mating would entail. After the incident at the hospital—after seeing how she reacted any time she was confronted with her past—it was obvious that until things were resolved there, she might not ever be ready.

That, at least, was something I could help with. If what she needed was a hero, for someone to solve her problems, I would do that for her.

Even then, I knew she might not ever be ready. But that was okay, because she’d be, at least, a little bit healed.

But that wouldn’t happen now, and possibly not ever.

Some hurts transcended lifetimes.

I hung my head. Without someone nearby to focus my rage, my loathing and thoughts continued to turn inward.

Her shy smile ran through my thoughts. The way she chewed on her lip as she looked through her phone. I loved that she’d wear the clothes that she knew I liked. I loved that she genuinely enjoyed those things. Her hair was especially fascinating—untamed curls that reached her waist. At first glance, it was chestnut—a lovely color in itself, but my senses were better than most. When the sunlight hit her hair in any direction, flashes of strawberry blond and fiery red peeked through the waves.

Then there was also the way her eyes changed hue with her emotions, flickering between spring grass and the summer sky. Sometimes there'd even be a hint of gray, like the horizon before a storm.

Then there was the way she’d look at me, shyly, but with a hint of challenge. No woman had ever tried to hurt me before.

Although, to be fair, she hadn’t exactly tried. She did hurt me. My face and balls still stung in the memory of her aggression.

Did she fight back? My blood coursed at the thought.

Probably.

Bianca might look small and fragile—and she was compared to me—but she was a fierce force in her own right. I hoped she was able to hurt someone. I hoped she didn’t suffer too much.

But I knew shifters. Wolves and hyenas were the most violent of our kind. The hyena worked for me only because they submitted to Ada’s influence.

Wolves, however, were harder to control, even for me.

Generally speaking, they submitted to their Alphas. I had to work to overcome that bond in some cases. Rogues were easier to recruit, but also more dangerous. Wolves needed order and structure, and rogues were that way for a reason. Usually, they were men and women who fell outside of the normal rage of society or who had personal issues with authority.

There was only one rogue I trusted around Bianca, but Gloria Protean’s qualifications were unique.

I didn’t want to imagine what Bianca might have gone through, but the possibilities invaded my thoughts anyway.

The light flickered once more, and my legs gave out. My shoulders were already aching, and now, with the added weight of my body, were strained beyond compare. But it didn’t matter anymore, nothing did. This wasn’t the first time, and probably wouldn’t be the last, that I failed her. But that didn’t make it any easier to handle the guilt.