Chapter 26: Lucas - Bound to Ruin

THE ARCHWEAVER ESTATE, ASTRUM FOREST

They’ve taken Valen to fuck knows where and, instead of saving him, I’m forced to kneel on the floor at Dimitar’s feet like his dog. The section of the estate we’re waiting in is not as well kept as the main wings. Situated way back in the property, it looks like it hasn’t been remodeled in centuries. The high ceiling has rafters that form an A-shape with beams running across for stability. A chandelier hangs from the middle beam to offer light, with a roaring fireplace along the wall assisting with holding off the dark shadows of this room.

My teeth grind as the fucker’s hand slides through my hair, feeling the long strands. My skin crawls, and it’s a battle to keep my shoulders from shifting. Showing any weakness will only provoke the psychopath. I need to stay calm, practice my breathing, count to a hundred, do complex math—anything to keep from ripping off his hands with my bare teeth.

His smug voice is like a drill, chipping away at my self-control. “The first thing we’re going to do back in my city is chop off this mess and get you a clean shave. You’re much more attractive when kept properly.”

My hands can’t move in the iron gauntlets that surround them, but they strain against the metal as they try to fist. Disgust surges, memories of being kept just like that while naive to his true nature surging. The instinct to flinch away is powerful, but I master it. I need to stay calm. I need to focus. Whatever happens, I cannot miss even the smallest opportunity to get free. Valen needs me, and I will not abandon him to Alasdair because I lost sight of what’s important.

Dimitar’s statement slowly processes, and my brows furrow. “Your city?”

He hums, sliding his hand down to the back of my neck. “Of course. I wouldn’t trade my seat of power with the Magistrate for anything less. You’re looking at Delornia’s first king.”

I suck in breath, and Dimitar chuckles. “Oh, Lucas. Did you think you were the sole reason I’m here? Don’t flatter yourself. You were the extra throw-in to sweeten the deal.”

“What did Alasdair want in return? The statue?”

He clicks his tongue. “What a disappointment you’ve aged to be. You’re thinking too small. This is above petty sibling squabbling. This is a new world order. One where a god rises, and kings rule.”

“Whatever Alasdair is promising, it won’t work. You’re putting all magicians at risk for this power grab.”

He leans forward, and I try not to recoil when his hand slides from the back of my neck to grip my throat. His lips brush my ear, and I scowl. His voice rumbles with a low growl of his other form. “I’m saving us all. Think about it. There will be no more Magistrate. No more rules keeping magicians in check. We’ll be free to make more tokens again. Our numbers will grow until we’re an army and we’ll rise to rule the weak as we’re meant to.”

I swallow down the horror of this new world he’s painted. I’m not sure I understand what he means by “a god rises,” but I’m sure it’s fucked up if it involves Alasdair. “The weavers will never permit it.”

He whispers, “There won’t be any left to stop us.”

My tone slips from my control as I snarl, “How the fuck would you get the Soul Threads for tokens then?”

“You should be more worried about how you’re going to convince me to allow you to live a comfortable life. I have a cage or a room for you. Which am I going to lock you in?”

My mind whirls, my gaze bouncing around the room as I try to form a plan. At least four Guild members stand guard in the room and dutifully pretend not to hear our conversation. They’re either examining their own tokens or gazing out the iron-lined windows. More are outside the hall to guard the space from the Order in case any of them decide they’d rather risk their lives killing the magic thieves that infest their sacred space than follow Alasdair.

I doubt that will happen, though. The weavers all practically sprinted out of the receiving hall to the old temple to be witnesses to Alasdair’s Ascension. Apparently, a new Archweaver is a big thing to them, even a crazy, demonic one. Only a few were left behind to keep an eye on the Guild.

My hands twist experimentally in the tethered gauntlets again, but nothing budges. My teeth grit, frustration building. What the fuck am I going to do? I need to get out of here. I need to save Valen. I don’t know what Alasdair has planned for him, but he stepped on his father’s corpse to reach Valen and dragged him away. Then there’s Tor imprisoned in that statue. There’s just too much for me to do alone without magic.

My gaze slides up the windows. The iron slicing through the glass is going to be a pain in the ass if I try to escape that way. My eyes follow the arching ceiling and the crossing beams. I freeze, not daring to breathe. Crawling along the beams is a woman with icy blue eyes and black hair braided back in a complex twist. How she smoothly moves like a cat while in a skirt is beyond me. She holds up her right hand to press her finger against her lips, a familiar gold signet ring glinting on her hand.

Valen’s words from earlier return to me. I gave the ring to my sister.

My heart pumps, hope returning to me in full force. I’d never thought I’d see the day when I almost weep at the sight of a Bauer sneaking up on me. I have no doubt that Valen’s sister is as powerful and clever as he is, but there is just one of her and five magicians, one of whom is Dimitar and his vast magical capabilities. She’ll be fucked if they notice her.

A plan forms, one that will keep the guarding magicians thoroughly inspecting the ground and Dimitar preoccupied. Disgust at the thought surges, but I shove it down. When this works, it will all be worth it. That thought is enough to send a thrill through me, and I duck my head submissively. “Comfortable.”

Dimitar uses his hand on my neck to tug my face back up. “What was that, pet?”

None of the arousal I feel when Tori and Valen use that term rises, and it forces me to act my heart out to fool Dimitar. “I’m tired of struggling. I’d rather be comfortable.”

His callused hands scrape along my throat as he purrs, “You’ll have to earn my trust back. You’re a slippery bastard.”

I slowly turn in his hold. “Yeah, but I’m also in gauntlets.” He leans up to accommodate me, and my face brushes his, the smile curling my lips an imitation of the one I use to tease Tor. “And I’m an opportunist. You taught me that.”

He laughs, his posture relaxing. I’m not sure I fully believe it. It’s too easy, but I settle in when his knees shift wider for me to kneel between. It’s a fight not to check on Emilia’s progress. I can’t risk Dimitar looking up at all. I can do this. I can choke down my disgust for this man, and once I’m free, I’ll kill him.

Oh, fuck, that will be well worth it. It loosens my posture, allows me to lock eyes with him without scowling. The anticipation of slitting his throat, of seeing him growing cold on the ground, must look like a seduction because Dimitar’s full focus lands on me, his yellow eyes searching me lazily. Thinking of Tori being free of Dimitar is a joy that turns my smile bright, and I weaponize all my attractiveness against this asshole. It works, and Dimitar eats it up with a widening grin.

He eases back on the sofa he’s on, his hips shifting forward. His arm drapes over the back of the couch, the other sliding up to cup my jaw. He hums, his thumb gliding along my lower lip. My lips part obediently. Raw lust glints in his eyes. “It’s a pity you didn’t see the potential of submitting sooner. You always let your stubbornness get in your way. If you’d been smart, I could’ve enjoyed teaching you so much more than just being an opportunist.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.” I nip his thumb and smirk when he sucks in a breath, his pupils dilating. “Don’t lie. I know I was much more than an add-on to your deal with this on your mind.”

His tongue slides along his lip when he pushes his thumb into my mouth. Biting crosses my mind, but I quickly summon Valen’s face, layering it over Dimitar to make it easier. I dutifully suck like the obedient little pet he wants.

I nearly laugh when Dimitar’s voice turns rasping. “True, it was on my mind when Alasdair approached me. He offered your severed hands, but I ensured the rest of you, whole and not too damaged, was included.”

I suck as I draw back, his thumb exiting my mouth with a wet pop. “Thank you, Daddy,” I say breathlessly.

The surge of vicious victory is addictive when Dimitar shivers all over, his hips bucking. I distance myself from the sick connection between this name he prefers and him mentoring me and focus instead on basking in my superiority. Something akin to pleasure ripples through me, and I hold onto it with both hands. It makes the way my gaze drops to his bulge more convincing.

I have this bastard wrapped around my finger. If I actually wanted to be his plaything, I’d own him.

I meet his heated gaze again. “My hands alone not good enough for you? You needed my mouth, too?”

He laughs and pulls me forward, forcing me off the ground to straddle his lap. He begins to leisurely release the buttons on my shirt one at a time, and I nearly break from character when dread surges. No. I cannot let my mind slip away like that. I have to keep his focus on me no matter what.

Luckily, Dimitar is too locked in on the way my shirt parts to notice any hesitation from me. “I’ve always had a weakness for you.” He trails his fingers down my chest in a slow covetous stroke, following the scar he left on me. My stomach convulses in a gag and I hope he thinks I’m ticklish. “At first it was just to get those rings, but you wormed your way inside my heart.”

I lean forward again and grin darkly. “You don’t have a heart. It was devoured by that fucked-up token of yours.”

My lips graze his in a tease to cover my gaze flicking up, but I don’t spot Valen’s sister before Dimitar shivers and wraps his arms around me. He pulls me tight to him, and I slip back into character. I keep myself loose, let him fully be absorbed by me so that he’s too distracted to sense Valen’s sister’s approach. I whisper against his lips, keeping just out of reach because I’m not sure I can handle kissing him without getting drunk, “Why do you want my rings so bad?”

“They’re Leon Obdurate’s tokens.” He surges forward, using my shock against me. He kisses me deeply, passionately, and I can’t react to do much more than keep my jaw dropped.

His tongue thrusting hard knocks me out of my shock. I squeeze my eyes closed and kiss him back just enough to get away with ripping my mouth free to demand, “What did you say?”

He slams my back down on the couch, and my shoulders twinge at the awkward angle. I try to roll to keep from getting trapped under him, but it’s too late. Dimitar shoves me back down. I suck in breath, Dimitar’s massive body spreading on top of mine to pin me in place.

His smirking face fills my vision. “Your father really fucked up raising you. Didn’t you ever wonder why your tokens are so different?”

Being pinned like this surges memories of Alasdair’s dream, of the fear from that night. I try to regain control of my senses, try to keep my façade in place. But the horror is replaced by the mind-numbing shock from the revelation about my rings and how my fucked-up deadbeat of a dad never bothered to tell me shit about them. “I’m the first magician’s descendant?”

Dimitar barks a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. The only thing you come from is a long line of criminals. Your grandfather stole them from the Archweaver during the last Ascension, when the Order was too preoccupied to notice a thief sneaking in.”

His thighs wedge between mine, and I permit him to force them apart for the tactical advantage it will give me. His eyes glint, and I let my legs curl up his legs to keep him distracted from Valen’s sister practically above him. My heart pounds and I force my gaze to lock with Dimitar’s, to gasp lustily when he slides his hand along my thigh. I smile, the thrill of him believing he has the upper hand just barely outweighing the repulsion that surges.

He leans down. “Now you’re going to be obedient for once in your life. You’re going to make me my tokens, and maybe I’ll let you live. Remember, I don’t need you.” His hand grips my jaw, and he growls, “Now show me how much you value your miserable life.”

He grabs my belt and bites my neck so hard that I choke in pain, his teeth sharpening to canines to break my skin.

A ripple of cloth is the only sound Valen’s sister makes as she drops from the rafters. Dimitar roars, back arching when a dagger buries deep into his back. His muscles and bones ripple, and my legs snap around him to throw him from the couch, using the momentum to roll over the edge and stumble to my feet.

But my savior doesn’t need my help. Her magic rips through the other magicians mercilessly, killing them instantly and efficiently with minimal flair. Dimitar tries to get up and falls over and over, his body distorting and bulging oddly in a way I’ve never seen before.

I turn to the woman that could be Valen’s twin. “Em… ily?”

“Emilia,” she corrects, pulling out a key. She quickly releases the gauntlets, and I flex my hands when the iron thuds to the ground. My shoulders and neck crack as I roll them, easing some of the aches and pains from being trapped so long. I touch my neck. Fucker made me bleed. I use my shirt’s collar to put pressure on the punctures and nod towards where Dimitar writhes on the ground, trapped in mid-transformation. “What did your knife do to him?”

She arches a brow. “Please. No blade can do that. It was all me.” I blink at her, and she sighs so haughtily that I really believe she’s Valen’s sister. “I negate Transformation. He’s stuck in that mid-transformation pain until I either release him or force him back to his human form.”

My brows shoot up, and I scan Dimitar’s oddly contorted body. “Damn, where were you weeks ago?”

“Stalking your shop, why?”

My head whips towards her. “What?”

“Hm? We don’t have much time. Alasdair has taken my brother with him to the old temple for the Ascension. I don’t know what he plans, but it can’t be good. So, tell me—” she points to Dimitar “—do we kill him or restrain him? The gauntlets will keep him from transforming, so I care very little either way.”

A thousand questions rise, but I can ask them later. I turn my back to Emilia and stalk over to the Amur. I kick him onto his back and pin him there with my boot, letting the pressure sink the blade to the hilt into his ribs. His breath rattles, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

This man was my mentor. He sheltered me during the worst times of my life. For several years, he was my lifeline when I was too young and trusting to know any better. Then he took my pain and suffering and twisted them for his own selfish desire. He used me. Manipulated me. Tried to force me to bend to his cruel will.

He has allied with Alasdair, stole my sweet Torment from me, and handed over Valen to a demon, all so he could be the one in power.

I search for what to say to this monster of a man. What speech to declare all that he’s done. But I have nothing to say to him except for a question. Everything else is meaningless noise that would prolong this just end.

“My grandma and mom.” I swallow, their faces returning to me to shred my heart to pieces, and my voice rasps, “Was that you?”

He grins, his teeth stained red and eyes glinting with malicious glee. “You’ll never know.”

My rings flare to life. “A painful end it is, then.”

My threads explode towards him, wrapping around that fucked-up token fused to his chest. My fist curls, and Dimitar writhes. My threads squeeze, the metal of his token cracking. All the neurons in his brain sizzle in agony as the stolen Soul Thread within turns against him. I twist, the token’s barbed points that grip Dimitar’s ribs slicing through the bone. Then with a rip, the token and Dimitar’s pulsing heart tear free from his chest. The heart squelches when it hits the ground, the weight of the token crushing it.

I lift my boot from his chest, stepping back. I don’t use my hands to pick up the heart and token. I have no desire to get more of his filth on me. My threads tighten around both and toss them into the fire. “Let’s go.”

Emilia greets me with a small smirk. “Oh, I can see why he’d risk it all to fuck you.”

I startle. “What?”

“Hm?” she says innocently, batting her thick lashes at me. “Shall we go save my brother and Tori?”

I blink after her as she strolls to the locked door before following close behind.