Page 24 of Corrupt Shadows
I’m standing in a room that looks like my own in every way, but there’s something off. Everything’s too still, and the colors are as if someone has turned the saturation down, muting every pocket of vibrance in my Gothic room. Even the white ceiling looks gray.
My brows draw together. The bed is empty. I’m certain I’m dreaming, but normally when I know it’s happening, I wake up.
I turn to look at the mirror over my dresser. As I draw closer, my reflection disappears. Instead, I’m looking out at a replica of my bedroom, with Rosa and Gomez sleeping on my bed.
My next breath catches in my chest. My heart pounds as I bring my fists to the glass and bang on the inside. I can’t get out. This isn’t a dream. I’m trapped behind the mirror to my bedroom.
Shadows snake around my body, and fingers grip my throat from behind. My lips part to scream, but no sound comes out. Hot breath tickles the top of my ear as he whispers, “Come to me, little witch.”
I push back against the demon’s hard body, but he holds me firmer, rooting me to the spot. I can feel the hatred pouring through every twitch of his fingers, as if he longs to squeeze tighter.
The same smell from the earlier dream emanates from him—nutmeg and sage, with some muskier notes of iris and leather.
“You’re a demon,” I state, and his grasp loosens a little. I already assumed so, but saying it aloud cements the truth.
His voice penetrates my thoughts, tickling the edges of my subconscious. I try to push him out of my mind, but he’s ingrained there. “Very good, little witch.” He taunts me with each gentle press, though I know he could snap my neck at any moment. Panic seizes me, the moment almost mirroring when my dad tried to strangle me.
Then Caden enters my thoughts, or what was left of him anyway.
The demon’s laugh penetrates my mind. “Are you afraid?” He’s still behind me, his body pressed against mine. I can feel him along every inch of my body from my head to my ankles. He towers over me, my body tiny against his. His dick hardens against my lower back. I sense he hates me for it. Despises me even. His nails bite into my skin, and I instinctively arch my back to his touch.
What the fuck am I doing?
I freeze as his words reach my mind. “Your magic recognizes me… It calls to me.”
My breath catches in my throat. I don’t want any part of him or this. I would never. I hate my magic and all the dark parts of myself.
He places his hands around my head, fully entering my mind.
Memories of Edward rush in—and his depraved, fucked-up experiments. I can feel him pressing the scalpel into my skin, slicing me over and over, so he could watch as I healed quickly and to ensure my shadows never came out.
“So this is why you hide from your magic.”
“It’s you who’s been behind all this,” I state, finding my voice. He’s fucking with my mind, pulling out my darkest memories as if I need any help to relive them. I turn against him, looking up at his masked face.
He’s darkness personified, and his green eyes look right into my soul, as if he can see every vulnerability. “How long have you been watching me?” An icy blast slithers down my spine, seeping through my pores and chilling me to my core.
Shadows surround him, and my magic purrs, pulling me closer. Caden’s face, along with the others I murdered and keep buried deep in my psyche, resurface. Tears threaten to break down the barrier I’ve spent years building.
“You’re trembling, little witch. Or should I say, little killer?” he asks, his dark, sensual tone taunting me as the horrors of my past run through my head.
I need to get out. The air somehow feels heavier, as if this mirror version of my room may trap me forever.
How do I get out of here?
He tilts his head and runs his hand through his tousled, dark hair. “Your family’s mirror,” he says, answering my unspoken question.
Can he read my mind? “What do you want with me?”
His eyes flash gray, as if smoke has consumed them completely. Rage bubbles between us, the tension building. Fear ignites in my chest, and the moment it does, his face splits into a sinister smile.
My eyes widen, as if I’m a deer caught in headlights. He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to. He wants to hurt me, just like all demons do.
My gaze travels to his pants, where I find his dick bulging. He’s fucking huge. He’s getting off on scaring me. Heat sears between my legs, and his eyes dart toward my thighs. I clench them together, and my heart palpitates. I run past him, but he doesn’t stop me.
I race through this horror-movie version of my apartment. Outside the windows, a thick cloud cover blankets this world in a dove gray. Hisses sound from nearby, and I don’t even want to know what’s outside. I glance back over my shoulder and see him.
He’s at the edge of every room, watching from the shadows while I navigate the enveloping darkness toward my office. I pull down the handle, sweat beading my forehead, and fall out of the mirror and onto my office floor.