جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 60

Kaelen'S POV My fingers moved over the piano keys, producing a melancholy piece of classical music. I tried to lose myself in each note. To let each chord consume my entire focus. Any kind of distraction from the tiresome healing process was welcome. Convalescing was a bitch. I hadn’t played this particular melody in years, but my muscle memory would never allow it to be completely forgotten. Music was about the only good thing to come out of my childhood. Somehow, I’d transformed the relentless drilling and practice sessions into my own personal escape. I’d learned early on that the only way to stop the punishment that came after each mistake was to stop making mistakes. Piano became my world—and I enjoyed it. I paused over the keys. My Fae abilities picked up on the emotions of hurt, dread, and determination heading up the attic stairs. That particular mix of feelings could only be coming from one person. Lysander. With an inward groan, I turned around on the bench and waite

Lysander'S POV When I started my search for Elara, I’d immediately gone to Silas Vexx’s house in Seattle. He was the leader of 5th Circle and, since they were still hunting her, he’d know where she was last seen. Of course, I couldn’t show up empty-handed, even though all I wanted to do was break down Vexx’s door, get the information I needed, then slaughter them all. Payback. Instead, Xavier had worked up an offer to try to sway 5th Circle away from their alliance with Eclipse and back to us—back to Penumbra. He wouldn’t let me begin my search until he had all the details in order. For all the good it did. I showed up at Vexx’s mansion and the fucker refused to let me enter the grounds. He wouldn’t hear me out and threatened to dispose of me if I turned up on his doorstep again. So much for that idea. Next on my list of places to check out was Elara’s most recent address, a farmhouse in Olympia. I hadn’t checked there first because I knew she wouldn’t stick around. It was too

Kaelen'S POV “Take a right here. Right now!” Samuel navigated from the passenger seat. The car wheels screeched when I slammed on the brakes, then hit the gas to make the sharp turn through the Seattle streets. Xavier and Ash let out curses from the back seat. I ignored them and sped along the quiet section of industrial buildings. The hour was nearing one in the morning. Lysander had never returned from his outing in search of Elara—well over twenty-four hours ago. The enchantress’s curse should have sent him racing home. No, something was really fucking wrong. “Now take a left up here,” Samuel said, pointing. “Then the first right.” I speared him with a glower. “Are you sure that the locator spell is working?” “Yes. We’re almost there.” I followed the rest of his directions. We ended up on a dead-end road at the water between a giant, modern industrial complex and a tiny park. The headlights cast a harsh bluish light on the single, quaint-as-fuck picnic table ove

Elara'S POV The sun hid behind thick grey clouds. Salty, tangy ocean air swirled through the massive structure’s open courtyard. The crash of waves on rocks crescendoed on the other side of the high stone walls. I was chained to a post in the center of the space, the cuffs cutting into my wrists as they took most of my body weight. Forrest flicked his mottled blue wand. My muscles tensed, back arching, and teeth clenching as the electric jolt of the spell ran through me from head to toe. Several other dark witches and spectators clapped and laughed. When the spell ceased, I went limp, hanging from the chains. Pain. It was my whole world. There was nothing else. Without magic, my body didn’t seem to heal, not that Forrest ever gave it a chance. My broken and bruised ribs grew more painful with each passing day, with each torment. Weak from abuse and hunger, I no longer tried to fight him. Instead, I gave him what he wanted, my screams, whimpers, and tears. My shirt was open fro

Elara'S POV Forrest had me bathed for the first time today. After the torment in the courtyard, I was allowed a full hour to soak my bloody, bruised, and broken body in a tub. The water immediately turned a murky reddish brown. It was drained and refilled by my two attendants, then I was scrubbed, my hair washed, all the grime rinsed away. They dressed me in a thin, black nightgown. For whatever reason, the two women dried and brushed my hair. I felt like I was being prepared for a sacrifice—an offering to some mighty dark witch god. Was that what they thought? That killing hybrids appeased some higher power? Maybe Forrest simply enjoyed prolonging the moment. I already knew he was going to kill me tonight. How many hours would he force me to live with that knowledge looming, chiseling away at my sanity? Strangely, I felt more numb than anything else. The magical cuffs might have contributed to that, though the sensation went soul deep. During my more lucid moments, I spent