3. Ambrose

3

AMbrOSE

E veryone claps and cheers as parks of magic sail through the air. The joy in the room is palpable for everyone except me.

My blood boils in pure rage. The contents of my lonely breakfast churn in my stomach as bile rises up my throat. It takes every shred of control and dignity I have to sit through the meeting, and not cause a magical catastrophe. The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself and have all eyes on me.

Flora Lawrence floats onto the stage, in her beautiful black lace tea-length dress. She looks like a 1950s movie vixen, with her glowing skin, red lips, and beautiful, smooth hair. She looks positively radiant, smiling at everyone as she loops her arm in his. He kisses her on the cheek and I want to vomit.

How long has he been seeing her behind my back?

She looks at him with such joy in her eyes, like he hangs the moon. The same way I look at him… He gives her an indulgent smile. He never smiles at me like that, or at all, honestly. Every time I brought up the subject of marriage or children, he’d pointedly shut the conversation down. He told me that wasn’t in the cards for us, because he was so busy leading the coven.

It suddenly dawns on me that they must have been seeing each other for a while if they got engaged today. Their familiarity with each other seems so romantic. A life together was never in the cards for us .

I was never meant to be the one standing on the stage next to him.

He wasn’t seeing her behind my back. I was the secret. The side piece he kept behind closed doors. Who he only visited in the middle of the night with no witnesses to see it. The few times we did do anything outside either of our homes was when we’d grab lunch at a coffee shop or a quiet restaurant on the outskirts of town. Both places where when people saw us, they’d only think we were two coven members sharing a meal and talking craft. Not two lovers…

How can I be so stupid? How did I let myself fall into this… thing …I had with him?

As soon as the meeting ends, I storm out without saying goodbye to anyone or looking at him. My broken heart was already everyone’s entertainment when my parents passed away. I don’t want anyone seeing my shame. Or the broken, sharp edges of my heart as they fall to the floor.

I can’t bear to see the cold aloofness in his eyes anymore. When we’re in public, he looks upon me like I’m a stranger—it feels like a knife to my heart. And seeing the way he gazes at her was the dagger that sliced it apart.

How dare he? How could he?

I spent the past two years of my life as his dirty little secret, more than happy hiding our relationship because he liked to keep his private life private .

That was the excuse he gave me, and I was depressed and desperate enough for affection to believe it. I stuck around for months, waiting for him to finally make good on his whispered promises to claim me publicly.

As soon as I’m elected as High Priest, I’ll tell everyone about us. I’m so stressed out right now and need to focus on this.

I do love you, but I’m so bogged down with running the coven. I’ll tell everyone after the Solstice is over.

You mean everything to me. I’ll tell everyone soon, don’t worry. Please let me do it on my own time.

I should have known his words were empty. He never meant to make good on his promises to me. He never wanted to bring us into the light.

As I walk through the darkened woods back to my cottage, my hold on my magic breaks for a moment. My anger manifests as lightning crackling through the sky. A chilling gale of wind whips around me, climbing right up my back under my sweater. The trees lining the path shake, and their dried leaves rattle an ominous, echoing chorus.

I revel in the coldness. It stokes my anger, keeping me from breaking down until I finally lock my front door behind me.

My legs are so weak, they barely carry me to my bedroom, where I collapse on the floor in tears. I spend the next hour sobbing and gasping for breath as I break down.

I loved him. I gave him every part of myself. Told him things I’d never shared with another living soul. Showed him parts of myself I kept hidden under lock and key.

When High Priest Smythe passed away a couple of weeks after my parents, I used my family’s resources to rally the coven behind Caulder as our new High Priest. I fought the naysayers and did things to secure his power that I regret… passed rumors… gathered and fabricated evidence against his competition.

The wool suddenly lifts from my eyes, and I realize that he used me. For years, he took advantage of me—my money. My devotion. My loneliness. My blind adoration for him. The day my parents passed away, he targeted and manipulated me into thinking he cared about me.

I rip off Caulder’s sweater he left behind last week, breathing in his deep citrus cologne as I rub my thumb over the soft knit. His scent usually brings back memories of the times we spent together. But those memories are tarnished, vile reminders of a love that was unrequited. What we had wasn’t real. It was a bastardization of what love should be.

I throw his sweater into the fireplace and watch the flames engulf it. The fabric slowly burns, turning to ash.

Caulder Scarborough is dead to me now.

I never want to see his lying, cheating face again. I have half a mind to expose him in front of the entire coven and ruin his engagement. But deep down, I know it would do nothing to harm his perfectly crafted reputation. I have no proof—it would be his word against mine.

Who will believe the crazy orphan whose parents’ death mentally destroyed him over the High Priest? Who will side with the loser who can’t control his magic over the beloved leader of our coven who restored our former glory?

I laugh to myself, because if I weren’t me, I wouldn’t believe me, either. Everyone is trapped so deeply in his sticky web. They’re all fooled by the facade he shows the world. The sharp suits, fancy car, and fake kindness and generosity he flaunts. I don’t stand a chance against him.

I grab a suitcase from my closet. All I need is clothes, books, and distance. If I’m ever going to get over my parents’ death and Caulder’s betrayal, I need to leave this place, find somewhere new, and reinvent myself. The idea of a warm, sunny climate outside of New England, where it doesn’t snow, is appealing.

As I pull the zipper close, the click of the front door unlocking echoes through my silent home. I forgot I gave him a key to the house. The sound of his boots thumping through the hallway rankles me. I don’t want to hear his apologies or excuses. Before I can think of anything to say, he stops in the open doorway to my bedroom, scanning the sight before him. His eyes fall on the suitcase, and his jaw tightens.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“That’s not your concern anymore. Enjoy building your legacy with your beautiful bride,” I calmly state as I take the handle of my suitcase.

His fingers dig into my biceps as he grabs my arm to stop me. He laughs, like I told a funny joke. “Darling, You’re being dramatic. Unpack your things. I brought Thai to eat while we catch up on our show.”

Excuse me? What the actual fuck is happening right now?

“Get your hand off me and leave my house. I never want to see you again.” My voice is firm. The minute he said her name at the meeting, he gave her the future I so desperately wanted for two years. He ended us.

His grip tightens, holding me in place. “Don’t make me tell you twice. Go plate the food, and I’ll queue up the show.”

He shoves me through my bedroom door, parting me from my suitcase. He bullies me into the living room before I manage to dig my feet into the carpet and stop him.

“How about you take the food to your fiancee, Flora ? She seems like the type to plate food. I bet she’d give you a linen napkin and even pour the soda into a chilled glass with ice.”

“Keep her name out of your mouth,” he shouts at me as he grips my face in his hand. His spittle lands on my face as his fingertips and thumb dig into my cheek. I try to break free from his hold, but he pins me against the wall.

“Flora,” I taunt him. “Soon to be Flora fucking Scarborough.”

He releases me, slapping me across the face so hard my head bounces off the wall. Then he slams me into the wall with his forearm across my chest. Sharp pain blares through my skull, and the aftershocks almost make me fall to the ground. I can feel the sting of his signet ring scratching my cheek and the warm trickle of blood rolling down to my jaw.

Caulder doesn’t seem shocked by what he’s done. If anything, he’s angrier.

“Look what you made me do!”

“Yeah, I made you string me along for years and cheat. I forced you to put your hands on me like a piece of human garbage. I’m the reason you’re an asshole. Fuck you ,” I spit.

“You knew what this was.” His words feel worse than the slap did.

“How dare you,” I seethe, my breathing unsteady as I try to hold my temper. “You used me—hid me like a dirty fucking secret. Took everything I could possibly give you and then cast me aside when I was all used up.”

He smiles at me, as if he’s impressed I figured him out. Disgust claws its way up my throat. My anger boils, pressing at me from the inside and making me feel as if I’m moments away from exploding.

“You’re not good enough to stand by my side, Ambrose. You’re a loner. An orphan. An embarrassment who can’t control his magic. You’re crazy . Why would I pick someone like you when I can have the daughter of the richest member of the coven?”

My mouth drops. This man is a leech. I’m not useful to him anymore, he’s onto the next source. I meant nothing to him.

“When I realized I couldn’t open your grimoire, I wasted two years trying to tap into your magic. You were supposed to be my weapon, but you’re nothing but a defective freak!” he shouts. “But don’t worry, I’m not done with you, darling . You’re still good for the occasional fuck.”

My magic spikes and a bolt of lightning shatters the glass in the window across from us. It misses him by mere inches, crashing into the wall next to me. Shards litter the floor and loud thunder shakes the house and the ground beneath us. Hailstones batter the roof, their pings turning into a cacophony that sets his teeth on edge.

Caulder slams me against the wall again. My head feels as if it’s going to split open. “Stop it right now!” he bellows.

“ No ,” I rasp. “Get the fuck away from me. Never darken my life again, or I’ll ruin your engagement. I’ll tell the entire coven how you’d fuck me. The messed up shit you like to do. How you’d come on my face. I’ll recite the dirty shit you said loud enough that the whole world can hear me and make your life a living hell.”

He grabs my throat with a ferocity I’ve never seen in his eyes before, breaking his cool, stony exterior. He squeezes right over my windpipe and I can’t breathe.

“You’ll do no such thing. If you utter one word about us, I’ll put you in a coffin next to your parents.”

His face is set in a dead serious expression. I have no doubt he’d kill me. But I would rather be dead than be caught under his thumb for another minute.

I channel my rage, magic, and fear into the Heartleaf Philodendron plant sitting on the bookshelf, willing its vines to grow. They reach out, winding around the coffee table and over the couch, wrapping themselves around Caulder’s throat. They follow my thoughts, tightening around his neck.

His grip loosens, and I run out of the room, only stopping to take my grandmother’s Grimoire off the bookshelf before I leave.

“Don’t you dare take that book! It should be mine ,” he screams, ripping the vines away as he stumbles toward me. I hit him over the head with it, and he falls to his knees. “I’m going to wring your neck and watch the life drain out of you. You can run from me, but I’ll find you, darling.”

He cackles as I burst through my front door into the cool night air.

As I run toward the woods behind my house, I pray into the universe—to whoever is listening—that he doesn’t follow me. Because if he catches me, hurting me is the least he’ll do.

“You’ll regret this!” he shouts from somewhere behind me. I have no clue if he’s following me, so I run as fast as I can, weaving through the trees until I reach a small clearing with a singular tree. It has peeling silver bark and blood-red leaves. It stands out from the other trees in the forest, whose leaves are dying as we near winter. These leaves are vibrant, as if they’re frozen in time.

I collapse at the base of its thick trunk, placing the book on the ground as I stare up at the canopy above me. I’m so angry—at myself, Caulder, and the world. I feel an angry, potent magic simmering under my skin. It courses through me, thrumming in my veins.

I’m so tired of being sad and angry, of dealing with Caulder’s abuse. How dare he use me and throw me away like I mean nothing. He took two years of my life I’ll never get back. He was the only person who made me feel safe and loved since my parents passed. He took away my peace of mind.

An ice cold gust of wind knocks the book open, and the pages turn on their own to a spell in the beginning of the book. An illustration of an angular, handsome face shrouded in shadows sits at the top left of the page. His eyes, the tip of his nose, and his lips are clear, but the rest of his face is lost to detailed, artistic shading. The entry isn’t as long as others I’ve read in the past. The words are a narrow, slanted script and the ink on the page is lighter than the pages in the back of the book, so the spell must be old—from a generation of Stone witches long gone.

The Shadow Demon

Shadow demons are chaotic, devious beings, and can develop a proprietary nature with the summoner if they prove worthy. This sense of ownership can serve as a means of protection, and the demon will protect you by any means necessary. There are no limits or boundaries they will spare in their pursuit to protect their summoner. Beware of summoning shadow demons, as they have a way of bonding with their summoner that makes them difficult to banish.

Powerful, decisive, and dangerous, this being should only be summoned by a skilled witch in dire circumstances for protection or revenge against someone who wronged you. If the shadow demons feel you are not worthy, they see it as an offense and refuse your summoning. In worst case scenarios, they will end the witch’s life …

As I read my ancestor’s words, a crazy idea takes root in my mind…

All Caulder cares about is power. He’s unhinged enough to do anything to get my family’s grimoire. A shadow demon will protect me from him.

I’m tired of being Caulder’s dirty little secret. Of being the crazy loner guy he was able to take advantage of so easily. I’m done with his hurtful words and emotional abuse. I refuse to suffer him a moment longer.

From now on, I’m going to be his worst fucking nightmare.

I skim below to the summoning ritual and follow the instructions to a tee. I gather red fallen leaves from the tree in front of me and use my elemental magic to light a small fire. The flames dance in the darkness, casting a shadow on the ground.

Then I take my keys out of my pocket, flicking open my utility knife. I carefully slash my palm and let my blood well up, then drip it into the flames with intention as I envision my end goal. When the flame burns a light blue, I chant the incantation.

“Protect me with shadow and darkness, for I am worthy. Protect me with shadow and darkness, for I am worthy. Protect me with shadow and darkness, for I am worthy. Protect me with shadow and darkness, for I am worthy. Protect me with shadow and darkness, for I am worthy.”

The temperature in the air plummets, with an icy stillness falling over the forest. It seems as if it’s frozen, holding its breath as it waits for what happens next. Bolts of lightning electrify the sky, followed by loud claps of thunder that shake the ground. A silver bolt webs within the darkened sky, then touches down a few feet away from me, leaving behind a cloud of smoke.

When the smoke dissipates, a large male figure shrouded in darkness is left behind. My stomach clenches, then drops. His broad shoulders and massive frame are proof enough that he can end my life if he chooses to—snap my neck like a twig with the least amount of effort. This demon is beyond dangerous. He towers over me like an imposing statue carved from marble, immovable and silent, standing eerily still as he takes me in.

The clouds move, allowing moonlight to illuminate him. Tendrils of darkness curl away from his perfect, angular face to reveal the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He has lightly tanned skin, jet black hair, and a jaw so hard it could cut diamonds. His high cheekbones wouldn’t seem out of place on the cover of a magazine, nor would his bright gray eyes that sparkle like gemstones in the flickering firelight.

His body is bare, spare the opaque ribbons of night that cover his groin and wrap around his hips like a makeshift pair of briefs. His muscles and smooth planes are on display, making desire and fear swirl in my stomach.

He inhales deeply, and I involuntarily flinch. His eyes narrow on me, and I instantly regret my decision. He smiles wide, his plush lips curling in amusement. Demons and supernatural creatures have heightened senses and abilities.

He can probably smell my fear…and my arousal. He knows I made a huge mistake summoning him… I’m not worthy.

He steps toward me, and a low, preternatural growl fills the space. It echoes, like a unison of dozens of voices merging together. The sound infiltrates me down to my marrow, sending chills down my spine.

I realize that I summoned this perilous creature without casting a protection spell for myself or any barrier magic. Not even a simple salt circle or crystal chamber. There’s nothing trapping him in one place. He can easily rip me to shreds. Limb by limb.

I was so desperate for protection, I made myself the prey.

My heart vibrates inside my chest. I can’t breathe. This… thing … is going to kill me.

When he takes a second step toward me, my flight or fight response kicks in. I snap up from the ground and run as fast as I can past the clearing into the trees. I hear heavy footsteps behind me. And even though I’m too scared to turn around and look, I know it’s him.

My heart pounds harder, battering my chest as my vision blurs with tears. The snap of the leaves and twigs crunching underfoot as I run faster in a desperate attempt to escape is deafening.

I run as fast as I can, trying to dodge tree limbs from above and roots on the ground. The uneven forest floor makes me stumble, but I right myself and keep pushing forward. With every step, my head feels as if it’s splitting open, but I can’t let the pain stop me. I need to survive.

There’s another clearing up ahead, an old cemetery I used to read in as a child. The decrepit grave markers and headstones have long crumbled and faded. Some of the graves aren’t even marked. But the stone mausoleum has stayed intact. I climb up the wide steps and open the door. A feral, deep growl behind me makes my chest cave in—it’s coming from right behind me.

When I turn my head, my fears are confirmed. He’s charging at me, ascending the steps with ease. I can try to escape. Hide. But I know it’s no use.

How can I possibly outrun a demon?

I run to the very back of the mausoleum until I’m cornered by a large stone crypt on a raised platform. He steps inside the small, cold space, seeming larger than life. He barely fits in here without having to crouch.

He steps toward me, until my back is flush to the crypt behind me, the stone cold and rough. The moonlight and stars visible in the open doorway are extinguished by a creeping, slithering shadow, throwing the entire mausoleum into a deep darkness. I can barely see a foot in front of me, and the other crypts are mere outlines.

Tendrils of black darkness wrap around me and bind my arms behind me. I’m unable to see the shadow demon, but I can feel him. He’s close.

His hand clamps down on my shoulder, and this instant connection thrums to life between us. He invades my senses, bringing me to my knees at his feet. I simultaneously fear him and want him. My desire for him makes me want to worship him.

I hear a gravelly, rumbling laugh right next to my ear. When I look out of the corner of my eye, I see nothing but darkness. I feel something cold and rough, like the pad of a finger, stroke my cheek.

“You summoned me, witch,” he states, his voice raspy, unnatural—like a million voices at one time and unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. “Yet you run from me.”

I tremble, unable to speak as my fear immobilizes me. The same cold roughness from before grabs my jaw and forces it upward. I see the faint outline of his face and his icy gray eyes peering down at me. His full lips are set, the smirk from before long gone.

“Speak, summoner. Explain yourself,” he orders.

I try to form words, but choke on my own sobs. “I–I—Please?—”

He kneels in front of me, still towering over me from his sheer massiveness. Holding my face with both hands, he uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away. I feel a probing at my mind, like a soft knock at the doorway of my thoughts.

He softly whispers, Let me in. Except his lips aren’t moving. I think I only hear him in my mind. Or my fear is making me delusional.

The feeling becomes more insistent until I yield and let him in. The adrenaline coursing through me is cut off, and the walls around me cease to exist as I’m plunged into a silent, empty vacuum of darkness. My own memories fly before my eyes like a movie reel.

Meeting Caulder at my parents’ graves. Sitting in his lap. The evenings he’d come over to cook dinner with me and watch movies. The nights he’d sleep in my bed and we’d take pleasure in each other. The mornings he’d make his excuses before leaving. Text messages that went unanswered. Caulder ignoring me in public, laughing with the other witches about how awkward I am. His cold, dead stares when I’d try to talk to him. His dismissive laughter when I’d ask him why he treated me like that. The fights, his cold shoulders that lasted for weeks. Him yelling at me to know my place.

Emotions overwhelm me as each memory plays, as if I’m experiencing them all over again. His rejection and mistreatment sting even worse the second time around. They pile higher and higher, until I’m choking, unable to breathe or beg the demon to stop. When I get to the memories of what happened tonight, I feel my heart ripping out of my chest.

His engagement announcement. Flora’s radiant glow and his indulgent smile. Him showing up at my house unannounced, yelling at me, slamming me against the wall, and smacking me. The blood that ran down my cheek…

The demon growls again, but this time it’s a ferocious, angry timber. The sound is so sharp it breaks me out of my spiral. The darkness recedes, uncovering the moon and stars in the open doorway. Sound slowly starts to filter back, and I can see his face as he stands above me.

His attractiveness is undeniable. A rough, primal manliness blended with an ethereal beauty only a creature from Hell can possess. Despite the grimace and clear disgust on his face toward me, I can’t help but desire him. I’m ashamed he knows how weak I am, how unworthy I am to summon him and ask for his protection. We stare at each other for several moments in silence while tendrils of darkness weave around him like a cloak.

“I see your pain, summoner, and feel it like it’s my own,” he gently whispers as his eyes bore into mine. “No one as beautiful or delicate as you deserve to be treated that way.”

The compassion blooming on his stone face brings me to tears. His displeasure wasn’t because of my weakness. It was directed at Caulder. His anger on my behalf is vindicating, like a huge weight has been lifted from my chest.

Someone knows and understands.

I feel him probing at my mind again, but this time he doesn’t need to coax me. I open myself to him willingly, and he pours himself inside me, disappearing from sight.

He’s possessing me.

The feeling of him infiltrating my mind is a fullness I could never describe, a high I never want to come down from. He fills me with a sense of calm I’ve never experienced before. All the background noise in my mind—my insecurities, sadness, self-loathing, and loneliness—stop. The feeling of complete tranquility is so foreign to me that it’s uncomfortable at first. Then it turns to a warm, syrupy bliss.

Do you like the way it feels when I’m inside you like this? he asks, a hint of smugness in his voice. The way I possess you and take all of your pain away?

A lazy smile blooms across my face. Yes, I think .

You will never be mistreated again, Ambrose. I’ll make sure of that. I can see his stern expression and glowing gray eyes in my mind. He’s like a god amongst men.

I’ve never encountered this demon before, but I know he is a creature of his word. He’ll protect me.

How do you know my name, and what do I call you? I ask. How can any words accurately describe such a being?

Because you are mine , summoner. From this day forth, we will be bonded together. I am the demon of shadow and darkness. You may call me Ciarán.

He leaves my body, materializing in his corporal form again. His pale skin shines in the moonlight, and his gray eyes are alight with a passion that can only come from one thing— devotion . This demon gazes at me as if I’m a treasure, someone worthy of cherishing. I’ve never had someone look at me this way before, and the feeling is intoxicating.

He lifts me from my prostrate position at his feet, seating me on the crypt behind me. Parting my trembling legs, he steps between them and places his hands on my knees.

“I’m going to protect you. You will never know pain or suffering again. You’re mine, Ambrose Stone. My summoner. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper.

He tips my chin up, giving me the perfect view of his face. The illumination from the moonlight behind him makes him look like a dark angel who fell to earth just to protect me.

“Say it again. Louder . Who do you belong to? I want to hear the voice that summoned me out of the darkness.” His full lips tilt into a devious smile. I love the way he smiles at me.

“I’m yours. I belong to you, only you.” His hands run further up my thighs, so close to my aching dick. I lick my bottom lip without thought. I want to taste him.

As if he read my mind, he takes my jaw in his hand and bends down until our lips are only centimeters apart. His grip is firm, but gentle.

“Once I kiss you, our bond is sealed, summoner. I will always be with you. I won’t share you. The minute you kiss me, I’ll find Caulder and end his life for what he did to you. Every single person who mistreated you will experience excruciating agony. Nod if you understand me.”

Without a second thought, I nod. I want Caulder to suffer. I want my revenge.

Our lips meet in a clash of tongues and passion. He collars my throat with his massive hand, tilting my face slightly to the side. His tongue dominates my mouth, eliciting a soft whimper from deep within me as he lightly squeezes the sides of my neck.

I smooth my hands down his pecs, over his sculpted abs. They feel like marble under my touch. I ghost one down to the shadows that cover him, and he takes my hand in his.

“Not here. I want to corrupt your pure, light soul in a private place. A place where you can scream as loudly as you want while I bring you into the darkness.”

His words make me feel owned. Desired .

If being with him is straying from the light, I’ll follow him blindly. For he is the darkness…and in the dark is where I thrive.