But she shrugged it off, confident her magic would hold. This was going to be fun. How was he immune to her charm? “I need to find the tome,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from exhaustion. He was far more dangerous than she’d ever imagined. She crouched beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his bloodied face with an almost affectionate gesture. Tears traced down her cheeks as she watched herself hunted, her life hanging by threads, caught in visions of herself murdered or enslaved by forces far beyond her current power. No one can enter my home without my permission. She struggled against him, but her body wouldn’t obey her commands. He crumbled to the floor, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with disbelief. “That’s right, slut,” Marcus growled in her ear, his words dripping with dominance. She saw blood, spells shattering, and desperate cries echoing in the dark. It was exactly what she wanted to hear—yet the way he said it sent an unexpected thrill of danger racing up her spine.
