Page 60 of Claimed

Because I would rather deal with the witch whose knives I can name than hand my blood to a stranger who belongs, even indirectly, to Valentin’s world.

Belly stuffed full of dread I’ll never admit to, I grab my phone.

Selphine answers on the second ring. ‘Child.’

Her voice is mildly annoyed, as if I’ve interrupted her mid-ritual, mid-lie, or mid-arranging someone else’s life into a shape that benefits her.

‘Selphine.’

A soft hum. ‘What do you want? And why are you whispering?’

‘I’m not whispering.’ I am absolutely whispering. My gaze darts to the front door as if a vampire will burst through any second, which is ridiculous because the most dangerous one is unconscious. Probably. ‘Something’s wrong.’

‘Mm. Shall we play guessing games, or will you tell me what this something is?’

My teeth grind. ‘Your potion. Bride’s Mercy. I think it did something.’

‘I should hope so, or what was the point?’

Her droll tone sends fury through me. ‘Something other than what you said it would do, and I think you know it.’

A pause. Very small. Very telling.

‘Be careful, child,’ she says, softness gone. ‘And try being less mouthy and more rational. Tell me why you believe the potion failed.’

‘I didn’t say failed. I said did something else.’

‘Specificity is a virtue.’

‘It’s made me crave his blood,’ I snap. ‘It’s made me—’ Want him so badly I can’t think straight when he’s in the same room. Feel hollow when he pulls away. Hear his voice in my head and answer like a woman who has forgotten every escape route she ever memorised.

Nah. I won’t hand Selphine that satisfaction.

‘It changed me,’ I finish.

Silence. Then, maddeningly calm, ‘And did he discover who you are?’

My stomach drops. ‘Why are you not surprised that I’m craving blood like a fucking leech?’

‘Because I warned you. Clearly, you chose not to listen. Now answer me. Does he know who you are?’

‘No, but⁠—’

‘Then everything is as it should be.’

My fingers tighten around the phone. ‘And the fact that I can’t say my own fucking name? Is that as it should be, too? Because I’m 100 per cent certain I didn’t raise my hand for that vote.’

The silence holds zero surprise.

I stand, pacing now with my hand tight around the phone, anger burning through the fear until my voice turns sharp enough to cut. ‘Why does my throat close when I try to say my name? And why in the ever-loving fuck do I taste blood? You told me Bride’s Mercy would hide me, Selphine. You didn’t tell me it would gag me and near enough try to kill me.’

‘It protects you.’

‘It owns the words in my mouth.’

‘It prevents you from doing exactly what I knew you would do the moment he looked at you with enough hunger to make you confuse choice with surrender.’ Her voice cools, every trace of droll amusement gone. ‘Did you want to speak it, child? Truly?’

I recall the night, the compulsion that pulsed beneath my skin. To save him. At all cost? No, because there was fear too. For myself. For what would happen once he knew. ‘That’s beside the point.’