Enchantra (Wicked Games, #2)

by Kaylie Smith

“This was my idea. Therefore, you’re mine. If anyone is winning freedom from the Hunt, it’s me.”

“And?” “And you stepped into the house on my watch. Therefore you’re my burden to bear,” he muttered. “I will never be your anything to bear,” she vowed with a scowl.

“Welcome to the fucking family,” Sevin told Genevieve cheerily. “Ready or not.”

“My soul is your soul. My heart is your heart. My blood is your blood. Eternally,” Rowin told her.

Rowin advanced a step toward his brother, a dangerous smile playing on the edges of his lips. “And I won’t be showing you any mercy if you lay a finger on my wife.”

Genevieve paused to look back at the Devil, meeting his violet gaze as she corrected, “It’s Mrs. Silver. And it’s with utter disdain that I am officially meeting you. Good night.”

He snorted. “Whatever you have wouldn’t be anything I haven’t seen before.” “I hate when people say that,” she told him. “It is something you’ve never seen before. Me. And I’m spectacular.”

“Let’s get one thing clear,” he warned, eyes darkening with each word he spoke. “I have zero interest in putting my hands on you unless it’s to keep you from harm or because you’ve asked me to. Understood?”

“Unfortunately, the last time I trusted a man implicitly, he shattered my heart,” Genevieve told him. “I’m not very eager to do so again.” “This game isn’t about hearts,” Rowin told her, a glint of something she couldn’t read in his eyes at her revelation. “Hearts can never truly be trusted, anyway.”

“Hearts are not ruled by logic or loyalty. They can easily betray you.”

You have my word.” He inclined his head. “I suppose we’ll have to learn if your word is worth anything.” “It’s worth much more than my heart,” she muttered.

“Sometimes I think it’s best not to chase after things. Sometimes all we can do is let them go and hope they come back on their own.”

“You were right.” “About what in particular?” “You aren’t anything I’ve ever seen before,” he said gruffly. “You’re spectacular.”

“Whatever version of selfish anyone considers you, Rowin Silver, is one I very much admire.”

“All of this over a girl you don’t even⁠—” “She’s mine,” Rowin snarled, his shadows beginning to swirl in the air around him. “Whatever you might think of that, whatever problem you have with it, if you ever try to touch her again, I will make the rest of your eternal life even more fucking miserable than it already is.”

“The light isn’t something you need to chase, Genevieve. The light is wherever you are,” he told her.

All Genevieve could think to say was, “I do not understand this family.” But in another life, I think I might have really loved to be a part of it.

“It’s never easy to realize that the people who are supposed to protect us are the ones who can create the deepest scars.”

“It only seems easy because, somehow, I’ve started to like you, Rowin!” she told him. “Do you know how much of a travesty that is? When the last time I opened my heart to someone he… he…” “I am not him,” Rowin snarled. “I want to find him and flay all the flesh from his body and set him on fire for what he did to you. Don’t ever compare me to him.”

I don’t want to survive anymore. I want to live. And not for my mother or my sister or anyone else. I just want to find a reason to live for myself. Something real.”

I don’t know who told you that you weren’t good enough, but they were fucking wrong. You’re more than good enough. Your heart is more than good enough. No matter how many times it has been burned. How many scars it might have. It will keep on beating, brave and passionate, if you will only let it.”

“You’d be right. Mortals are lucky. You live, you love, you die. Living forever just means there’s infinite time for people to inflict pain on you.”

Let yourself fall in love. Let yourself fall out of it. You never know when you could lose someone and not have the opportunity to do so again. Believe me.”

“Nothing is eternal. Except for the fact that you’ve ruined me. All I’ve ever wanted was freedom from this wretched game, and I didn’t even hesitate for a second to give it up.”

“I was not made for you,” she repeated, though it was much less convincing this time.

“Then maybe I was made for you,” he implored, as if he were angry about that fact. “How else have you managed to get so deep under my skin in such a short amount of time? Why is it that every time I try to imagine what it would be like to sever our vows, I feel like the Hunting Blade is piercing my heart? Fifteen years I’ve lived for everyone else around me. I’ve withered away in this damned place. Until you showed up and you made me laugh. You gave me hope.”

“That’s not true,” she swore. “Even without any of my memories, I felt drawn to you. We could be enemies, or husband and wife, or just fucking, but never nothing, Rowington Silver.”