Tears stream down my face as I make my way through the forest. I cannot go back to the estate and I cannot return to Anara. As much as I love Ryvan, I must let him go.

I try to comfort myself with the knowledge that Lorala should be able to protect him—to balance his dark magic and keep it hidden from their people. Even as I think this, a terrible ache stabs at my chest at the knowledge that he will belong to another and I will never see him again.

I close my eyes against the pain, struggling to hold back my tears. I reach up and feel of my stone necklace—the one he infused with his magic. It is warm against my skin as I clutch it tightly. A tear slips down my cheek. This is all I have left of the man who has my heart.

Drawing in a deep breath, I force myself to continue on through the woods. The light of the full silver moon overhead provides enough illumination to guide my steps as I make my way back to the estate.

Now that I am back in the kingdom of Eryadon, there is nowhere that I may hide from my stepmother’s magic. I doubt she has stopped trying to replace me. She needs me to marry Mr. Malforn to pay off her debts. I could try to make it to the port city of Cambryn and escape on a ship, but I fear she will replace me before I get very far.

A flash of light draws my attention and I turn toward it. Ice fills my veins when I see my stepmother standing off to the side. As if my very thoughts have summoned my greatest fear, her glowing, reptilian amber eyes meet mine and a sneer curls her lips. “Where have you been, my dear stepdaughter?” she asks darkly. “Did you really believe you could hide from me forever?”

Fear wraps tight around my chest. “Stepmother, I—”

The words die in my throat as she grips my forearm in an iron vise. The world spins and falls away. A terrified scream rips from my throat as I tumble through a blackened void.

Gray walls suddenly appear; the air is forced from my lungs as my back slams against a cold, stone floor. I blink up at the ceiling, trying to focus as my gaze travels over my surroundings.

Slowly, I sit up and the room begins to spin. I lean forward, placing my head in my hands as I pray for the dizziness to pass.

Two fingers tip up my chin, sharp claws pressing against my tender flesh as my stepmother forces my gaze to hers. Her reptilian eyes stare at me icily as her mouth curves up in a sinister grin. “Now that I have you again, you will remain here until Mr. Malforn comes to collect you for your wedding.”

“I will not marry him,” I state firmly. “You cannot make me.”

“You will, and I can.” She spins toward the door and steps out into the hallway. The heavy door creaks on its hinges as she slams it shut and turns the lock. “I will come for you later.”

The clipped sound of her steps as she moves down the hallway echoes softly. I listen at the door, waiting until I can no longer hear her nearby. As soon as I’m satisfied that she’s gone, I retrieve the spellbook from the shelf.

The large tome is heavy, but I manage to set it down gently on the workbench, careful to not make any noise. I take great care as I turn the worn and yellowing pages, searching for a spell I can use. Something simple that requires no ingredients or potions to conjure.

It doesn’t take long to replace what I need. As I scan the words of the binding spell, I commit them to memory. I wrap my hand around the stone pendant Ryvan gave me, feeling the warmth of the magic against my skin. I can do this. I have to. I will not be forced to marry Mr. Malforn, and I will not be a servant to my goblin stepmother any longer.

As soon as I’m confident I have the spell memorized, it is an easy thing to unlock the door. After years of being locked away by my stepmother, every time she grew angry with me, I learned long ago how to pick a simple lock.

Slowly, I open the door, wincing as it creaks on the hinges. I still for a moment, listening for any sound that someone may have heard. When I detect nothing, I step out into the hallway.

It’s dark, so I place my hand along the uneven stone wall to guide myself toward the stairwell. A bead of sweat trickles down my spine as I ascend the spiraling steps, careful to move as quietly as possible.

My shoe scrapes against a small rock and I hold my breath as it falls down the stairs, echoing loudly in the silence as it skips down toward the floor.

Soft light appears up ahead and I make my way toward it. When I reach the main level of the house, I carefully peek around the corner. No one is around.

Drawing in a deep and steadying breath, I step out into the hallway and make my way toward the light in the study. It has to be my stepmother. No one else would be up this late.

The door to the room is cracked open just enough that I’m able to glance inside. My eyes immediately go to the large chair near the fireplace. My stepmother is seated, paging through a book as the dancing flames cast her shadow in sinister relief across the floor.

My pulse pounds in my ears as I slowly creep forward. Raising my hands, I ready myself to conjure the spell that should bind her.

She stills and then slams the book shut. “I know you are here,” she snarls. She jumps up from the chair and spins to face me, baring her sharp goblin teeth as her nails extend into sharpened black claws. “How dare you,” she grinds out. “After all I have done for you. You ungrateful wretch!”

Despite my fear, I begin reciting the words of magic.

She raises her hands. Lighting arcs across the tips of her fingers as a black orb forms in her palms. She throws it toward me.

I gasp as it flies across the room and then slams with a thunderous boom against an invisible barrier before me, and then fizzles out.

“A barrier spell?” She stares at me in shock. “How did you manage this?”

I do not know, nor do I have time to think on it. I close my eyes as I speak the words of enchantment. Another loud boom splits the air, slamming against the barrier as she tries to cast another spell.

The stone of my necklace grows warm against my skin as I call upon its borrowed magic to cast the spell of binding.

“What are you doing? You cannot—” My stepmother screeches in alarm and then goes silent.

My entire body is trembling with fear as I force myself to open my eyes, afraid of what I might replace. Relief moves through my body as she stands before me, her hands neatly clasped together in front of her as if waiting for something. “Stepmother?”

I lift my gaze to hers and replace an icy glare reflected back at me despite the honeyed words that leave her mouth in reply. “Yes, dear? What can I do for you?”

Hope fills my chest as I step forward. A faint smile crests my lips. “You can wait here very quietly while I go deal with my stepsisters as well.”

She narrows her eyes. “Of course, my dear.”

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