Page 85 of Tainted Souls
I had my doubts at first.
Being a dhampir, I wasn’t sure if this vampire phenomenon applied to me. Had I inherited my mother’s control? Or would my human side leave things to chance, messy and unpredictable?
But after our first night together, Ifeltit. A conscious choice, like a switch I could flip at will. And in that moment, I realized something terrifying and liberating all at once: I have more control over creation than I ever thought possible.
Control that is now threatened to be taken from me.
What was always described as a beautiful, deliberate choice between lovers, Cain is twisting into something grotesque and coerced.
Soulmates are considered spouses for life. The union carries weight beyond the legal bonds humans recognize, tied directly to parturition. If he manages to pull this off, I won’t just be married to him.
I’ll be soulbound to him.
Cain is circling me like a shadow in pursuit of the perfect angle to swallow the light. “I can’t force you,” he says, voice silked with malice. “But I can make you choose me anyway. Consent is a malleable thing, Seraph. Given the right incentives.” He tilts his head, watching me with the calm of someone who already knows the outcome. “Your friends. Your brother. That lovely captain who keeps barking orders like she’s not bleeding under it all. Yourmother.”
I go still. The mention of my mother hits like a blade pressed to the center of my chest. My fists clench tight, my wrists straining against the bindings. She’s alive? How long has he been keeping her?
Cain closes the distance between us with excruciatingly slow strides. He regards me with an impertinent gaze before dropping to a crouch in front of me. His red eyes lock onto mine, unblinking and merciless. With one hand, he reaches out, hisfingers lightly brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, the touch cold as death.
“How much of your willpower do you think they’ll survive before it starts to break you?” His tone is almost condoling now, coaxing, like he’s offering comfort instead of threat. “You can rest assured, Seraph, that I won’t lay a finger on them unless you make me.”
He slides his hand down from my hair to the side of my neck, his thumb tracing a taunting path just beneath my jaw. “Just know that every moment you refuse me, every breath you take in defiance, brings the consequences closer. One scream at a time. One death at a time.”
His smile is cruel as he leans so close I can feel the chill of his breath on my skin. “You’ll say yes. Not because I force you, but because I’ll leave you no other choice.”
“You’re insane,” I whisper, fighting against rising panic.
“Visionary,” he corrects, wagging a finger at me.
Measured footsteps echo from the corridor. A man whose features are obscured by a hooded cloak emerges, carrying a wooden box inlaid with silver symbols that make my skin crawl just by looking at them.
“Meet Lucien, a practitioner of blood magic from the old country,” Cain says with a flourish, his tone disturbingly casual as if introducing an old friend at dinner. “He’s been most helpful in deciphering eldritch rituals. And soon, he’ll be playing traffic controller on our little love connection, securing a one-way ticket to daywalking for yours truly.” He spreads his arms wide, as if embracing a glorious future. “Can you imagine it, Seraph? Me, strolling through parks at noon. Kicking back on a beach at dawn. Watching sunsets without crippling. Think of the tan I could get! I might even start a collection of summer hats.”
His flippancy has me fighting the urge to retch.
He speaks of exploiting something as intimate as a soulbond, as if it’s a mere parlor trick or a clever loophole in an ancient spellbook.
There’s not an ounce of reverence, no hesitation—just amusement, like he’s already picturing himself in designer sunglasses, sipping iced coffee in the sun while I wither in his shadow.
With his child.
“In other words,” Lucien says, stepping forward, his hands folded loosely behind his back, “the soulbond creates a bridge between souls, which I can then manipulate to allow certain qualities to flow from you to him.”
He speaks with the patient clarity of someone explaining something sacred. As if this isn’t a violation, but a gift.
A breathless laugh, dry and sickened, escapes me. “How poetic.”
I lift my head to meet Cain’s gaze, letting the silence stretch a beat too long. “A bridge built just to be burned.”
He holds my stare as he steps closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Then let’s burn together, darling.”
His eyes don’t waver. If anything, he looks thrilled.
The urge to punch him in the face grows fierce, near uncontainable.
Cain winks, then turns away like my rage is a passing breeze. With a snap of his fingers, two vampires enter the chamber. As they haul me to my feet, Cain strides through the door with Lucien following closely behind him, their footsteps dwindling into the distance. The vampires march me down a torch-lit corridor as my mind races to find an escape.
I take in every detail, mentally mapping the underground labyrinth to the best of my abilities. I’m shoved into a small cell carved from the same stone as the chamber, but this one hasa narrow cot, a bucket in the corner, and a single torch casting long shadows across the floor.
