VIOLA


    The witch in the forest said that Matic was ”Destruction walking" and ”Devastation in flesh... a harbinger of ruin."


    He was obviously more than just a Vampyr and the very reason why he was sealed away. If we were to rely on each other, I needed to know everything because the witches that had come for him earlier… they weren’t the last.


    And now that I was tied to him, I was a target too. I wasn’t just tangled in this mess; it was pulling me under, drowning me.


    “If I have no choice in this matter, you need to tell me what you are,” I demanded, locking eyes with the Vampyr. His crimson gaze flickered, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward, just enough to make my stomach churn.


    He watched me like I was something to be toyed with—a mere snack, nothing more. Heat coiled in my chest as I fought to hold his gaze, feeling small, like a child daring to demand answers from a God.


    But Matic was no god. He was worse—or maybe Gods and Demons were one and the same.  Gods—toyed with humans like they were nothing, wielding their powers with careless abandon. They tricked, manipulated, and punished simply because they could. Demons were no better, though at least they didn’t pretend to be good. With them, you knew exactly what they were.


    Matic studied me in silence, his gaze unblinking, as though he was weighing something far more important than my question. Or maybe he was just amused that I thought I had the right to demand anything at all.


    I couldn’t read him, but his voice, when it came, was calm—too calm—and dangerous, as though he held the world’s darkest secrets in his hands. “I am the son of Asmodeus.”


    My body went rigid, the name tumbling from my lips in shock. “Asmodeus…” My mind raced, the name a sharp echo in my skull.


    One of the seven prince’s of Tehom. Or otherwise Hell. I wasn’t just bound to a Vampyr. I was tethered to fucking a Demon!


    I swallowed hard, and Emery let out a sharp, humorless laugh before cursing under her breath.


    “Of course you fucking are,” she muttered, shaking her head as more curses tumbled out, each one more frustrated than the last.


    I stared at Matic in disbelief, my heart pounding. Things had just gotten more complicated, and I wanted to scream, to release the whirlwind of emotions churning inside. But with him standing there, watching me with those cold, predatory eyes, I couldn’t.


    I needed air. My apartment suddenly felt too small, too suffocating.


    “I’m going outside,” I muttered, making my way to the balcony.


    The chill night air hit me as soon as I opened the door and stepped out. I welcomed it by closing my eyes and inhaled deeply, knowing that almost an hour ago, I was in the forest with four other witches. And Matic was the enemy.


    Damni it. What was I going to do?


    With my hands gripping the metal railing, I stared out at the busy streets of Toronto. Towering buildings, dim streetlights, the occasional scraggly tree—none of it held a candle to the clear, starry skies over Phantombrook, that deceptively humble town.


    But was it truly so quaint? The more I thought about it, the clearer it became—Matic had been locked in a hidden chamber, accessible only by a secret staircase behind a massive painting of a woman in a ruby dress. No, that quiet little town was far more than it appeared.


    The library itself had been built directly over his prison. The warlock who saved me wasn’t just a librarian—he was a guard, watching over his single, silent charge. Tasked with ensuring Matic stayed sealed away, just in case the day came when the Vampyr managed to escape.


    The librarian’s words echoed in my mind: “It’s been almost a century.”


    But the timeline didn’t make sense.


    Almost a century of what? I wondered because Matic had been locked away for five hundred years.


    Did something happen a hundred years ago? Had someone else, like me, tried to release him?


    The warlock even knew I was new to Phantombrook, that I didn’t belong there. And I got him killed. The memory replayed in my mind—Matic ripping his arm clean off, tearing into his throat. And the other three... Matic had murdered them, too, in the forest.


    I drew in a shaky breath, searching for some silver lining—at least the Vampyr was weak now. Emery’s mother and grandmother wielded their necromancy with fearsome skill, and Emery could be just as fierce. But what I saw in that forest... Matic was a predator beyond anything I’d ever encountered, a beast forged of blood and brimstone.


    Half Vampyr, half Demon—how could something like him even exist? What kind of nightmare could create such a being?


    Still, it was only a matter of time before Matic regained his powers, and then what? He’d already threatened Emery, saying she was no match for him—and now I knew he was right. Once his full demonic strength returned, no coven of witches could stop him. It would take the Guardians of the Veil and the Munadi to bring him down.


    Which begged the question: why were the witches the first line of defense? The Mundai and the Guardians of the Veil should have been there from the start, given his demonic nature... unless they’d underestimated the true extent of his power.


    Damn it. I didn’t want to be tethered to a centuries-old Vampyr who could tear me apart if I wasn’t careful.


    "We were bound long ago," Matic’s words echoed through my mind. "No one escapes a bond like ours."


    “Fucking hell,” I muttered under my breath, spinning around as the door creaked open behind me.


    Emery stepped out, her lips quirking as she surveyed the scene. “That demonic, Viking Vampyr needs a shower,” she said, voice laced with the faintest edge of humor as she approached, her boots barely audible on the concrete. “He’s quite the sight with all that blood and the whole brooding, ‘I’m going to murder everyone’ vibe.”


    The tension cracked, if only for a moment, and a soft laugh escaped me, swept away by the cool breeze.


    “He’s scary as hell, Em,” I murmured, my voice low, though I knew it was pointless; Matic’s hearing was far too sharp.


    Emery moved to stand beside me, leaning her elbows on the railing. She cast a casual glance my way, but I saw the tension in her shoulders. “I know, but don’t let him see that,” she said, tapping her fingers lightly against the railing.


    “Easier said than done,” I muttered, knowing I had tried to hold my ground. Seducing the Demon-Vampyr wasn’t exactly my proudest moment, but at the time, I thought if I could distract him—just for a few moments—I could find a way out.


    What I didn’t anticipate was how much I’d end up liking it.


    “Says the friend who wanted to write an article on How to Enthrall a Vampyr in Ten Days,” Emery teased, nudging me with her elbow.


    “Have you seen the city Vampyrs? They’re kittens compared to Matic.”


    My friend straightened, giving me a pointed look. “Last month, you wrote Wooing a Demon Without Losing Your Soul.”


    “He owed me an interview.” I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I didn’t do anything.”


    “And the month before that, Ten Ways to Avoid Being Devoured by a Werewolf?” She raised an eyebrow.


    I shrugged, glancing down at the streetlights. “Basic supernatural 101. You know as well as anyone what these reckless teenie boppers are doing these days.”


    Emery sighed, turning to face me as she folded her arms. “Vee, my point is, you take on these weird-ass articles willingly and don’t even flinch at what these men are—or what they’re capable of.”


    “Because they’re just that—men.”


    “And that titan, brooding Vampyr in your living room? He’s just that too—a man.” Emery tilted her head, her eyes softening. “Unfortunately, you’re bonded to him until midnight on Halloween.”Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    On a frustrated curse, I turned back toward the window. Inside, Matic’s lean muscles rippled with every slow, deliberate movement, like a predator assessing his territory. He was now flickering the lights on and off, staring at the ceiling, clearly baffled by modern technology.


    The thought of depending on him was certifiably crazy.


    “Look,” Emery’s started as her fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the cold metal railing. “I’m not saying you should feel great about this—because it’s all kinds of messed up. But here we are, and he’s here. I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him, and honestly, the whole ‘demon lineage’ story sounds a little too convenient. But you’re my girl. I’ve seen you handle men twice his size.”


    Matic had stopped playing with the light switch and moved on.


    I groaned, because Emery wasn’t wrong—I’d faced my share of dangerous creatures before, not with magik but with beauty and charm. From an early age, I’d learned the truth: men were men, no matter their race or species. Their desires made them predictable, and predictability was power.


    Emery furthered, “You remember that ogre you had wrapped around your pinky?”


    “He was a giant teddy bear.”


    “Maybe, but I''m three years older than you, and I avoid them. You can handle this guy.” Emery leaned in, her breath warm with the faint scent of pumpkin spice. Her whisper cut through the cool night air, low and cautious, against my ear and far from Matic’s prying ears.


    “In the end, all that matters is that Matic believes you’re the woman who trapped him for five centuries. To him, you’re still his wife.” She paused, her expression serious. “That makes him dangerous, but it also makes him vulnerable. Fear and love—they’re two edges of the same blade. And right now, he’s holding it close.”


    I swallowed, my stomach knotting. “Did you have to say it like that?”


    “This isn’t just about survival. It’s about knowing what you’re up against.”


    “He hates me…” Even as I said it, I knew it didn’t feel entirely true.


    My friend shook her head, her cheek brushing lightly against mine. “The way he looks at you… it’s not just hate. There’s a line, Vee.” She lowered her voice, even lower, if possible. “And that’s something you can use to your advantage.”


    She inhaled the night air, and stepped back. There was something more going on with Matic. It wasn’t just anger or resentment. It was more complicated, like he was torn between wanting to end me and…


    The echo of Matic’s words reverberated in my mind, each syllable dripping with menace. “To kill you. Fuck you raw until your throat gave out. Drain you dry until your flesh begged for release.” It was the essence of him—his darkness, his hunger, and that raw, unrestrained power that threatened to consume me whole.


    Emery sat in one of the chairs, but I couldn’t bring myself to relax. My gaze followed Matic as he prowled through my apartment, shirtless and streaked with blood, a predator in every sense of the word.


    Images flooded my mind—the rough bark of the tree scraping against my front, his body grinding into my lower back, his growl hot against my neck.


    My thoughts tangled in knots, while tension coiled in my chest.


    “I should’ve told you,” I turned toward Emery, my voice laced with guilt. “Maybe if you’d been there, things would’ve turned out differently.”


    Emery shrugged, offering a small, wry smile. “If I’m being honest, I would’ve been just as curious about your visions and the chanting… we’d probably be right where we are. There''s a reason why we’re friends.”


    I managed a soft laugh, nodding. “Oh my God, Kaylee would’ve had a field day.”


    “Absolutely,” she grinned. “But once Matic showed up, she’d have dissolved into tears. And when Kaylee gets emotional, her magik goes haywire.”


    I laughed, and for a moment, the tension eased. Memories of Kaylee’s chaotic spells filled my mind but the laughter felt hollow, and the weight of what had happened pressed down on me.


    “So many witches and warlocks died because of me…” The words slipped out, unbidden, a confession I hadn’t meant to make.


    My voice trembled, and before I could stop it, tears welled up, blurring my vision. I knew deep down it wasn’t my fault. But the guilt clung to me.


    My friend shot up almost immediately, and hugged me. “It wasn’t your fault. That was all him and,” she pulled back. “I can’t say we’ve been through worse, but we’ve had our fair share of trouble. We’ll get through this too.”


    Wiping at my tears, I let out a long yawn, exhaustion settling deep in my bones. The weight of it all—the magik, the visions, the Vampyr in my living room—felt like it was crushing me.


    The balcony door dragged open, the sound grating against the quiet night. I turned to find Matic standing there, a magazine in hand, his gaze fixed on me with that same unnerving intensity.


    “Take me to him. To Fradan Saldana,” Matic demanded.


    Emery turned to face the Vampyr and shook her head, her blonde hair swaying over her shoulder. “That’s not happening.”


    “And why not? He countered.


    I let out an exasperated breath, my body sagging under the weight of it all. “Matic, Fradan is a billionaire. We can’t just waltz into his mansion and demand to see him.” My voice came out tired, barely a whisper. “And why him, anyway? How do you even know him?”


    Granted, Fradan’s name was in big, bold letters on the magazine cover, but why him?


    Matic narrowed his eyes. “Little witch, back then he was known as Tomás Saldana. He’s Katherine’s brother, and he’ll lead me straight to her.”


    “One, my name is Viola,” I snapped back, grounding myself as my frustration grew. “Secondly, witches don’t normally live that long.” I glanced between Matic and Emery.


    My friend sighed, rubbing her temples as if she could massage away the madness. “Okay, I feel like I’m missing half the story here, but I’ll bite. If what you’re saying is true, why would Fradan—or Tomás, or whatever—tell you anything about his sister? Especially now?”


    Matic’s lips twisted into a cold smirk. “Tomás won’t have a choice. And there may be more to the spell than you or I realize. Maybe it’s not just Samhain that binds us. You smell and taste just like Katherine, and you heard voices that led you straight to me. If he won’t lead me to his sister, he might still have answers.”


    Emery’s eyes flicked between us, her expression searching for clarity. “Wait… Katherine was your wife?” She pointed to Matic before turning to me. “And you… smell and taste like her?” Her gaze landed on me, eyes wide.


    I didn’t know how to answer that, and Matic’s gaze narrowed as he tilted his head toward me. “She doesn’t look like Katherine, but it’s still up for debate if she’s wearing a different skin.”


    “I’m wearing the only skin I was born with,” I shot back, heat rising in my chest.


    Emery sat back down on the edge of her chair, eyes darting between us, trying to piece together the chaos. Her gaze lingered on me—too hard, too focused.


    “I am not Katherine!” The words burst out, frustration bubbling over. “You went to school with me, Emery!”


    She raised her hands in mock surrender, palms out. “I met you in my last year of high school. For all I know, you’re an ancient soul.”


    “You’ve got to be kidding me.”


    Emery smirked, leaning back. “I’m joking. And no, I don’t think you’re changing skins. This is all really wild, but…” Her gaze shifted to the blood-streaked Vampyr, who lingered in the doorway.


    A light autumn breeze carried through the air like a whisper and then there was his scent—sharp and metallic. A reminder of the violence simmering beneath his surface.


    “You don’t know…” she murmured, her words trailing off as her gaze lingered on him.


    Matic’s crimson eyes locked onto hers, “Don’t know what?”


    “Katherine is dead. Or, at least, those stories claimed that she died centuries ago.”


    My eyes snapped to Matic, watching him closely, waiting for something—anything. A flicker of surprise, a flash of pain, a ripple of anger. He’d been so certain tonight, so unrelenting in his conviction that I was Katherine.


    But there was nothing.


    His expression remained unchanged, his crimson eyes unblinking. He absorbed the news like a stone sinking into still water, leaving no ripples in its wake. It was as though he already knew—or worse, didn’t care. Yet every word, every look, every action tonight hinted otherwise.


    Emery shifted uncomfortably beside me, her eyes darting between us as if trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces. She searched for a reaction in him, something to break the suffocating silence—but Matic gave her nothing.


    When it became clear he wasn’t going to answer, wasn’t going to offer even the faintest flicker of emotion, I forced my voice to steady. “Why did Katherine Saldana seal you away?”


    Matic’s gaze flickered to me, but his expression remained impassive. His voice was flat and distant. “People fear what they don’t understand.”


    It wasn’t enough. His answer left a hollowness gnawing at my core.


    I shook my head, my frustration boiling over. “That’s a hard swerve. Katherine Saldana sealed you away five centuries ago, yet her brother is still alive today. A cathedral was built over your prison, as if to erase your existence from history—this feels like more than mere fear.”


    “I gave you an answer,” Matic said, his tone sharpening.


    “That’s anything but an answer,” I shot back, my voice rising with exasperation.


    Matic’s jaw tightened as if he was about to argue, but Emery stepped in, her tone brisk and no-nonsense. “If I may, the Saldanas are an old bloodline—they’ve been around for centuries, though no one really knows how. There are no other records of Saldana’s extending their life, other than Frandan. It could simply be that those records haven’t been found or maybe they are hidden. Either way, there are ways to extend life, but most aren’t exactly… acceptable. You know I’m a necromancer, and you’ve seen what it’s done to my mother and grandmother. The tips of their fingers are blackening from accessing the dark arts. My grandmother is almost one hundred and fifteen, yet she looks no older than fifty. But with each year, she loses more of her emotions, her humanity. And the Saldanas? They aren’t necromancers.”


    Matic was still unreadable despite his loss. The weight of everything was pressing down as I took a steadying breath.


    “Okay, so Katherine married you, and then she sealed you away. Did she not know what you were?” Unless, of course, Matic had been different back then—less bold, not so infuriatingly arrogant, and certainly not so eager to flaunt his magik.


    “Vee, maybe we should take a step back for tonight?”


    I shook my head, “He wants us to waltz up to Fraden Saldana, then he can answer a few questions. Like did you keep your true nature a secret?”


    Matic now stepped onto the balcony, his bare feet scuffing lightly against the concrete as the door clicked shut behind him. “I knew Katherine when I was a child and our parents tried to keep us apart because of my half blood. According to your friend, Katherine died centuries ago. So, the reasons why she betrayed me, little witch, have rotted in the grave with her… unless you’re brave enough to dig it up.” His eyes shifted to Emery, casting a dark glower on the Necromancer.


    Emery met his stare, her jaw set so tightly I could almost hear her teeth grinding. The night air seemed to turn colder, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones.


    I hugged my arms around myself, knowing all too well that Emery had taken a stance against her powers long ago. She practiced only minor magik now—offensive spells, the basics every witch learns at the academy. But she’d long since sworn off anything that pulled her toward the darker arts.


    “Look,” She said at last, breaking the silence. “You mentioned Fradan Saldana. I can help you get close to him, but that’s where my help ends.” She cast a glance my way, my expression daring her to leave me out of whatever twisted plan was brewing before my eyes.


    “You can’t just walk into his home,” she continued, “but you can walk right into his gala tomorrow night.”


    “How do you know about the gala?” I interjected. “Jamal told me about it—he and his uncle were invited.”


    “Then you don’t need my plan; you already have an in.”


    I sighed, shaking my head. “His uncle doesn’t want me going. He doesn’t think I’m good enough for the crowd.” There was no way I’d grovel to Jamal, not after everything.


    “Wait—Vee, what the hell? What did Jamal say or do?”


    “He wants to make an impression, and apparently, I don’t make the cut.”


    Emery’s jaw dropped, but Matic cleared his throat, his tone gruff. “None of this seems relevant to getting me face to face with Tomás Saldana.”


    “We’re putting a pin in that one,” Emery said, giving me a pointed look. “As for the gala, Vee, remember the club from a few nights ago?”


    I nodded, “That was the first night I saw the visions.”


    I felt his gaze before I even looked up—a heavy, almost tangible force prickling my skin with awareness. When I finally met his eyes, his stare held me captive, daring me to look away, though every nerve in my body screamed to escape the weight of it.


    “Well, while Kaylee was puking, she got a text from one of the catering companies. Kaylee can get you in.”


    “I didn’t know she was hosting this event,” I said, shifting my focus to my friend. But it made sense—her mother had handed her the business and all the high-end clients right after college.


    Emery stood, her gaze on Matic. “And if talking with Fradan doesn’t get you the answers you’re after, I’ll help you. Only because it might help Viola.”


    Pieces began to fall into place, one thought out of a million gnawed at me—I couldn’t avoid Jamal forever.


    Sooner or later, I’d have to face him, to decide what to do with the tangled mess between us and everything else unraveling around me.


    Suppressing a yawn, I glanced at Matic. “There. You have an in.”


    Emery stretched her arms over her head, her movements relaxed, though her eyes stayed sharp.


    As I headed toward the balcony door, Matic shifted aside, his gaze still fixed on me and it was like he was dissecting my every step and movement as if he could read the secrets beneath my skin.


    “I’ll call Kaylee and let her know the plan,” Emery called after me, though her words barely registered.


    I needed a break from all of this—I needed sleep. After a night that felt like a descent into madness, I’ll face it all again tomorrow. But tonight, I just needed to escape, even if only for a little while.


    If only I could wake up and find this had all been nothing more than a terrible nightmare.