Chapter One

Events here take place one week after PART ONE.

WOODS OF THE WRAITHS

Midnight was a magical time in Asphodel. Most often, it was a time when fireworks exploded in the skies, with lords of the manors battling it out on who had the most impressive aerial spectacle to entertain their guests. It was also a time when proposals were made and romance bloomed in the air, with gentlemen going down on bended knees as they presented heirloom rings that had been passed down from generation to generation to the women they wished to spend the rest of their lives with.

But for the three exquisitely beautiful ladies of Trois Belle Lames, midnight was, more frequently than not, the time for blood and mayhem.

Trois Belle Lames stood for Three Lovely Blades, a name that Soleil and her two younger sisters hid behind so that no one would know they weren’t exactly spending their free time knitting and painting flowers when they weren’t attending any of the parties they had been invited to.

Once the sun had set and darkness embraced the world, the Orpheline sisters transformed into soldiers, ditching their corsets and ball gowns for the less restrictive military greens and boots. Rather than practicing their steps for the waltz, they worked on their marksmanship and stamina, and instead of looking for eligible catches to trap in matrimony, they hunted for otherworlders that preyed on the weak—-

Like now, only this time it was a fellow human that was their prey.

Soleil, the curvy blue-eyed blonde leader of the Trois Belle Lames, studied the fading footprints they were tracking with an unreadable gaze. “What can you say about this, Aurora?”

After almost half a month, they had finally been given a worthwhile lead, pinpointing the whereabouts of the traitor responsible for their last operation, which had been nothing but a setup for an ambush aimed to kill them.

It was critical that they catch the traitor, not for revenge, but to find out how deeply they were compromised. No one was supposed to know anything about the operations Soleil’s group led, and yet everything that could go wrong that night had gone wrong.

Aurora crouched down and shook her head after a moment. “This isn’t leading anywhere.” The slender brown-eyed redhead was mostly known as the brains of the group, but few people were aware that she was also the better tracker among her sisters. “He knows we’re on his trail.”

“Or she,” Soleil murmured absently.

“I don’t care about the blasted traitor’s gender,” Fleur grumbled. The doe-eyed brunette looked around furtively as she spoke, and her sense of foreboding increased when she heard the leaves rustle around them. Only her sisters knew of her intense distrust of everything otherworldly.

And what could be more otherworldly , she thought glumly, than the Woods of the Wraiths?

A forest of black, silver, and white, it was a place that threatened to devour anything with color in life.

Anything or anyone , Fleur corrected herself, knowing that even trained soldiers like her and her sisters were still in danger in this particular neck of woods. Even if it had been a solid lead, and she knew it was, they really shouldn’t have come here. The Woods of the Wraiths were forbidden territory, even for them. Anyone here was fair game, literally. If they ended up devoured by a rabid shifter or turned into a living voodoo toy by a crazed witch-—since they had come here without express permission from their superiors, no one would be coming to their rescue. Even if it meant being torn or chewed into pieces, Asphodel’s human government would consider their deaths an unfortunate accident.

Fleur glanced up, and the sight of the full moon in the sky made her grimace. To most other people, it might be a romantic view, but for those like her who knew the truth, it usually meant bad stuff was more likely to happen.

“It would really, really be nice,” she said half-seriously, “if we had someone furry to protect us.”

Soleil let out a rare, unladylike snort. “Says the one who’s been adamantly against an otherworlder partner—-”

“But that’s me, not you,” Fleur pointed out, before adding piously, “And for the record, I happen to think his lordship is the ideal partner for my beloved eldest sister—-”

“Perhaps because he also happened to grant you a one-day access to Brimstone’s ducal library?”

Fleur had the audacity to grin. “Oh, you know about that?”

Soleil simply sighed. Where had she gone wrong at raising this girl? She was just so easily bribed.

“I also think Fleur has a point, though,” Aurora volunteered.

“Not you too, Aurora.” Soleil stomped her foot, which would have been a cute display of vexation – if she had been wearing her usual silk slippers. But with high-grade, battle-proof military boots, she only looked like she wanted to crush someone to death.

“We’ve survived without him for almost ten years—-”

“But it’s different now,” Aurora interrupted.

“How is it different, pray tell?”

“Gladly. Then, the otherworlders we fought didn’t really want to kill us. It wasn’t personal.”

One golden, beautifully arched brow went up. “Oh, so killing us can be not personal?”

Fleur pretended to gasp. “Oh my! Is that our kind, perfect sister actually being—-” A pause. “ Sarcastic ?”

Aurora nodded seriously. “Such an abominable thing.”

Soleil glared at the two. “Why are you ganging up on me?”

“Because you’re being unreasonable,” Aurora answered readily. “You know what I mean. That night was obviously a setup, and it was meant to kill us. So yes, that makes it very, very personal.” She paused—-

And at that moment, a twig cracked in the not-so-far distance.

Their plan to lure out their target had worked, as expected, and the Orpheline sisters smiled.

“They always give themselves away like that, don’t they?” Aurora remarked.

Fleur’s shoulders moved in a dainty shrug. “What can you expect from idiots?”

“Who are you calling idiots?” A man stepped out from the darkness. Small and thin, he had an unshaven look about him and possessed the most unhandsome posture, with his stooped shoulders and bow-legged walk.

“You, I’m afraid,” Soleil murmured apologetically. The trail had not gone cold, but they had pretended otherwise because the location they had chosen was perfect for their needs, allowing them a fair chance of survival even if they were outnumbered.

And so they had deliberately dawdled, pretending to be troubled, when all they wanted was to lure their opponent out – right where they wanted the traitor to be.

Soleil sang out, “Come out, come out, wherever you imps are.”

As she spoke, said imps crawled out of their hiding places. There were ten of them, horrible, vicious-looking creatures that made up the lowest ranks of Hell, but even so they were demons, not at all easy to kill, and would obey only certain humans—-

Like those who made bargains with the devil , Soleil thought sadly, and believed they could get away with it.

Stepping forward, she told the traitor gently, “We know your name is Wilbur and that you worked as a runner for the Enforcers. We know that you haven’t shown up for work since your attempt to have us killed. If you tell us the truth about what made you do this and who’s ordered you—-”

“Shut up,” the man snarled. “You talk too much.” He gestured to the imps, growling, “Kill them!”

No second order was needed, the imps charging towards Soleil and her sisters, mindless in their need to wreak havoc.

Letting her blade fly, Aurora smiled humorlessly as it found its target. But her smile faded when she saw the traitor getting away. “Go after him, Soleil—-”

“We can handle this.” As if to prove her point, Fleur slashed the throat of an imp that had been able to avoid her arrows and come near her.

Despite her insides clenching because it didn’t feel right to separate – she and her sisters had always fought together – Soleil spun around and tore after Wilbur.

Creeping vines began to slither in the ground, forcing her to jump and dance around them, knowing that if she allowed herself to be caught, it would never let her go. It hampered her progress, but not as much as it was slowing Wilbur down, because he was clearly unused to any physical test.

Even so, he clearly wasn’t in the mood to quit, forcing himself to get back up even as he cursed every time a vine managed to slash the cloth and skin on the back of his legs.

When he looked at her over his shoulder, Soleil saw his face whiten just before he turned and made an unexpected twist, straight into the mist shrouding the deeper region of the woods.

Her heart lurched.

Soleil hadn’t survived this long by living fearlessly. No, what enabled her to win every battle was to treat each fight as the last, and to never ever think her enemy was weaker.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

And right now, the worst wasn’t Wilbur getting away.

The worst was to piss off the wraiths that lived in this forest and make them think she was their enemy.

“Don’t be a fool,” Soleil cried out when she saw Wilbur move closer and closer towards the eerie-looking mist. “You know there’s a possibility you won’t be able to come back—-”

Wilbur faced her, demanding bitterly, “And what do you propose otherwise? That I go back and await justice?” He shook his head wildly. “You don’t know what it means to be like me! Living in the fringes, always having to kiss people’s arses! Everyone thinks you’re all bloody heroes, the great defenders of the city, when you’re just like everyone else,” he spat. “You’re no different from the monsters beyond these woods. You’re worse, the way you treat those you think are too weak, too cowardly—-” He reached out for something behind him.

Soleil stiffened. Whatever he was about to pull out, she had a feeling it wasn’t good.

And when she saw what it was in Wilbur’s hand, she stiffened even more.

Unfortunately, her guess had been spot on.

This wasn’t good...at all.

He carried a gun, a modern contraption that was forbidden in Asphodel and the entire kingdom for that matter.

And the wraiths of the woods knew this, too.

She shook her head slowly. “Don’t do that.”

“Afraid?” Wilbur’s eyes had a crazed look to them. “Good.” He licked his lips, as if savoring the fear they both knew she was feeling. “I like seeing people like you sweat.”

When he raised the gun and pointed it at her, Soleil did start to sweat, not because she was afraid of him, but of the ghosts that were starting to stir around them. She could feel it in the cold bite of the wind that began to whip their skins, the way the leaves practically danced on the ground, and oh, when the mist behind Wilbur started to creep closer to him—-

Was he so lost in his anger that he couldn’t feel they were being haunted this very second?

She said between tightly clenched teeth, “Don’t. Do. It.”

He cocked the gun.

Soleil paled. “You’re going to kill both of us if you do that.”

Wilbur’s maniacal laughter made Soleil back away.

“How much of a bloody idiot do you think I am? Is this gun pointed at me?”

Hopeless, she thought, and backed up another step.

“You’re the one who’s going to die. Bitch .” He started to pull the trigger.

She spun around and ran.

Behind her, a terrifying sound pierced the night, but it wasn’t the sound of the gun going off. It was Wilbur, screaming for his life, but she didn’t look back, didn’t even think of saving him.

There was no point.

Once the wraiths wanted you dead, you were.

She ran as fast as she could, but she could still feel the mist coming at her heels, threatening to overtake her. When its icy, invisible fingers brushed against her back, she knew it was inevitable, but still she ran, her breath lodged in her throat—-

Ice encased her.

She screamed, instinctively covering her face to ward off any attack, but nothing happened, and the sound of her scream also remained trapped inside of her. It was as if everything was commanded by the wraiths, even the very way her body functioned.

Soleil screamed and screamed, but still not a sound went past her lips.

Everything was so very silent.

Too, too silent.

Slowly, she lowered her hands, and Soleil gulped when she saw how much the world had changed. Everything felt darker, more oppressive, and the silence made it worse. The trees glaring down at her seemed endlessly tall, their claw-like branches innumerable as they reached for her—-

Soleil pinched herself hard.

No, this wasn’t real.

But even so, she couldn’t stop from moving instinctively, crawling away from the branches that kept coming towards her.

A feeling of abandonment struck her just as she heard a baby’s cry piercing the air.

Another infant, thrown away by a parent because it was imperfect—-

Her throat tightened—-

No.

Soleil’s mind desperately clung to reality.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t real.

This was an illusion.

But even so, long-buried feelings of abandonment kept flowing out of her, turning into ropes of despair that wrapped itself around her neck, tightening, choking her—-

Soleil began to panic. Illusion or not, this felt too real. She was going to die—-

Snap out of it!

The voice came out of nowhere, furious, but underlying it was concern and fear – for her.

Her heart leapt in recognition.

It was the Marquis of Lunare.

The wolf whose heart she was fated to keep.

“I-Ilie?”

Who else?

She searched her surroundings for any sign of his presence, but all she could see was more and more branches that were just waiting to break her bones and tear her apart.

“I c-can’t see you,” Soleil choked out. “I can’t breathe, I’m feeling...”

And then she realized what this was.

It was not an illusion.

It was real.

It was her curse...killing her.

“Ilie,” she screamed. She was going to die. She really was going to die.

You know this isn’t real—-

“You don’t understand,” Soleil sobbed. More shameful sobs tried to rush out of her throat, but she did her best to swallow them back down. “I know w-what I’m seeing isn’t real, but what I’m feeling is. I’m going to die—-” Because she was cursed. He didn’t know it, and that’s why he didn’t believe her.

“Ilie, help!”

Whatever you think you’re feeling, I can make it stop. But you won’t like the way I do it.

“Anything is fine—-” Because she could already feel herself dying.

Then you need to think of me fucking you.

Soleil froze.

A moment later, she shrieked, “Are you insane? How can you make jokes like that? Don’t you see this is—-”

Oh.

This wasn’t for real.

It couldn’t be.

Ilie Marcovici was a lot of things.

Playboy, killer, deceiver—-

Half-wolf, half-demon—-

Arrogant aristocrat hell-bent on seducing her—-

He was all of those things and more, but he was also a soldier like her, and people like them never made a joke at times like this.

Soleil closed her eyes.

This. Is. Not. Real.

When she opened them again, the world was back to normal. The Woods of the Wraiths was still creepy, but the mist was gone and replaced instead by the tall and impressive form of the Marquis of Lunare. His white blond hair was combed away from his face, and his silver eyes gleamed with amusement as he stared down at her. In his cobalt blue coat and tight-fitting breeches, he cut quite the dashing figure.

He looked like he was on his way to a ball , Soleil thought, only he had been forced into making an unnecessary detour to save a damsel in distress.

And of course, said stupidly helpless damsel had to be her.

Soleil’s lips pursed. She hated, hated, absolutely hated when she had to ask for this man’s help. She had been fighting since she was fifteen, so why was it all of a sudden she was unable to survive without being rescued?