The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 4 by Bella Forrest (life books to read TXT) 📕

Still, the spirit lines would be an invaluable tool. Oh, yes—when the time came for Alex to force the counter-spell into Virgil’s nasty head, the Spellbreaker would have memories on his side.

A memory of Alex and the girl in the turret room flashed through Elias’s mind, sickeningly sweet. Perhaps he shouldn’t have spirited away the love of Alex’s life, however nauseated their blossoming relationship made him feel. He had known, even before he’d done it, that it would probably get him into more trouble than it was worth, and yet he hadn’t been able to help himself. Like a naughty schoolboy, he’d gone against his better judgment, snatching her up from the hallway and bundling her out of sight, dumping her at the foot of the mountain, wanting her to be eaten by something particularly nasty. Alas, he sighed, it was not to be, making him wonder what a shadow-man had to do to get a wolf these days, or maybe a nest full of Thunderbird chicks to give her a peck, as a bit of an afternoon snack. If there had been any around, they’d let him down, especially thanks to Caius’s foolish intervention.

That man was more messed up than any of the royals, in Elias’s mind. Well, apart from Julius, he mused. At least with Alypia and Virgil—he paused to chuckle at the name—you know what you’re getting, but that old coot is a whole bundle of mixed up hurt and nonsense. By rights, they should have locked him up too. But then again, there’s always a crazy uncle in the family, and I suppose royals are no exception, he pondered, deeply pleased with himself and his judgmental musings.

With sullen disappointment, Elias realized he was going to have to shelve his devious plans for Ellabell for a while. At least now, the goody two-shoes couldn’t warn Alex away from him, considering they were bound together in a way that trounced even the supposedly close bond of their vomit-inducing romance. Elias and Alex were now bound by the soul, and Elias could not have been more overjoyed, knowing the delectable misery he would inflict upon the Spellbreaker in revealing their newly forged link. Only in jest, of course. He wasn’t a monster.

As he moved through the hallways, sweeping from shadow to shadow, jumping up every so often at an inmate’s cell-grate, just to scare the living daylights out of whomever peered outward, his mind turned to his plump, toady accomplice.

He shuddered dramatically. She’s more goblin-amphibian hybrid than actual woman, he sniggered to himself, though his thoughts on her were less than jovial. He had never been more furious with the old hag, who’d thought it was her place to warn him to keep out of things while she tried to “smooth things over,” even though she was the true meddler. He was certain he could have resolved things by himself, without her acting as clumsy mediator. The painted old toad had only made things worse, as far as he was concerned.

In fact, it had been partially because of her—and partially because of the missing piece of his soul—that he’d been hiding out in the first place, away from prying eyes, in case she tried to get him to do something. He didn’t need her and her lurid pink lips, not when he was perfectly capable of fixing things by himself. He’d been doing just fine, after all, until she came along and interfered, although he had to admit it was nice not to feel the weight of their curse upon them anymore. Almost everything was out in the open, and his tongue was loosened—never had anything felt more glorious.

“I might still have a whole soul left if it weren’t for you, you fat oaf!” he muttered into the empty hallway, glancing around rapidly in case she suddenly appeared, having heard him, ready to give him another lecture. He could still hear the echo of her screeching voice from the last time.

He cackled as he swooped toward the cell he knew Alypia was in. Drifting down, he lounged against a cozy armchair, propping his misty head on his vaporous hand, sitting up as he realized his face kept falling through the insubstantial shadows of his palm. She was staring strangely into the fire, her arms still pinned behind her back. A great woman brought low, barely recognizable as the striking woman who had reigned supreme over Stillwater House. Had Elias been anyone else, he might have felt a little sorry for her. As it was, he didn’t.

Tut, tut, bringing your father into all of this, he chided silently. You can’t always go running to daddy when things get tough. In truth, even Elias was a little afraid of Julius, and didn’t like the idea of having to deal with the top dog at any point down the road. He just hoped Alex could get himself back on track before the king decided it was time for a visit. Elias shuddered at the thought, ripples flowing through his silky form.

Bored by her relative lack of action, he swept through the hallway and up to the closed, broken door of the room where the portal to Falleaf had been, only to quickly back out of it again at the sight of hollow eyes and gaping mouths turned sharply in his direction. As amused as he was to see how things with the royals would play out, the outcome looked decidedly grim for Caius, even by Elias’s standards. He didn’t think he could stomach the sight of the otherworldly spirits sucking the life out of the old man, not without a bucket of popcorn and a comfier seat, anyway. It made him positively uneasy, reminding him of bad times he didn’t wish to remember.

At least they can’t get me, he thought to himself, hurrying from the domain of such foul acts. Conjured specters were a vicious breed, and not one Elias wanted to be anywhere near. Once he was far enough away,