Dark Flame (Immortals 4)
With this knot that I untie
Banish this magick before thine eye
Where once this cord was bound and tight
I now reverse it to set things right
Your hold no longer potent, now loosed on me
I unbind this cord and set myself free
Let it harm none as I send it away
This very change to take hold today
This is my will, my word, my wish—so mote it be!
Squinting against the gale force wind that whirls through my circle, pushing the walls of my web to their limits as a flash of lightning strikes and thunder cracks loud overhead. My right palm raised, open, ready—my gaze locked on his as I mentally loosen the knot at his neck and summon the blood back to me.
Back to where it originated.
Back to where it belongs.
Eyes widening in excitement as it arcs straight toward the center of my wounded hand, the cord around his neck lightening, whitening, until it’s as clean and pure as the day it began.
But just as I’m ready to banish him for good, free myself of this unholy bind, that strange foreign pulse, that hideous intruder, snakes through my insides with such force, such determination, overtaking me so quickly, I can’t stop it.
The monster inside me now fully awakened, rising, stretching, with its insistent, throbbing hunger demanding to be met. Causing my heart to crash violently, my body to shake—and no matter how hard I struggle against it—it’s no use. I’m a hostage to its longing—captive to its desires—I’m of no consequence whatsoever. My only purpose is to meet all its needs—to see that it’s done.
Watching helplessly as the cycle repeats once again. My blood surging forth, soaking the cord at Roman’s neck ’til it sags, red and heavy, dripping a thick trail of me down his chest. And no matter what I do—no matter how hard I try—there’s no stopping it.
No stopping the undeniable lure of his gaze.
No stopping my limbs from yielding toward his.
No stopping this spell that binds me to him.
His body like a magnet that seeks only me, closing the small space between us in less than a second. And now, with our knees pressed tightly together, our foreheads flush—I’m defenseless—powerless—unable to curb this unbearable yearning for him.
He’s all I can see.
All that I need.
My entire world now whittled down to the space between his gaze and mine. His moist, inviting lips just a razor’s width away, as this bold, insistent intruder, this strange, foreign pulse, urges me forward, willing us to mesh, unite, join as one.
My lips push toward his, moving closer, ever closer, when from somewhere down deep, somewhere I can’t quite reach, the memory of Damen, his scent, his image, flickers inside. No more than a brief flash of light in the midst of all this dark—but still enough to remind me of who I am, what I am—my real reason for being here.
Just enough to allow me to break free of this horrible dreamscape and shout, “No!”
I leap back, removing myself from him—from this. Moving so quickly and violently the web collapses around me as the candles extinguish and Roman dissolves from my sight.
The only trace of what just occurred is my crashing heart, bloodstained robe, and the words still reverberating in my throat.
“No, no, no, no, no, oh, God, please, no!”
“Ever?”
I gaze around the closet, fingers frantically clutching at my white silk robe now stained beyond repair, hoping she’ll just go away—give me some space—or at least enough time to figure this out—