Free Heart of Darkness by Jaide Fox

Are you there?”
     
    “I'm here,” he replied mildly.
     
    There was a sudden whoosh of air and
instantly, the room was filled with light.
     
    Blinking away the black dots in her vision,
she spun around and sought Wolfe's position. She was far too angry
to even think about the splendor of this room.
     
    “What is this?” she asked, somewhat
nonsensically and literally fizzed with fury as he merely commented
on her question.
     
    “What is what?”
     
    “The room next to this...it is your sleeping
chamber, is it not?”
     
    “What if it is?”
     
    “What do you mean, what if it is? It is a
gross outrage that's what it is!”
     
    “Would you prefer the dungeon?” he retorted
silkily and she stomped her foot in outrage at his reply.
     
    “Perhaps I would! Anything but be treated as
though I'm your damned concubine!”
     
    “It can be arranged. Easily, so do not push
me, Isabeau. You will stay here and appreciate the beauty of what
was once my mother's suite,” he told her grimly.
     
    “I refuse to allow this to continue. Take me
somewhere else. Your servants...they will gossip! My reputation is
already a non-entity, but that does not mean it is something I do
not guard highly. Why do you think I'm still a maiden? I will not
have the world believing me to be your mistress!”
     
    “If you want your ring, then you shall just
have to be quiet and live through the shame,” he mocked.
     
    She watched with hate in her eyes as he
slipped his hand inside his overcoat and pulled out her ring.
Crying out as she saw it, Isabeau felt every nerve ending in her
body react to the sizzle of power that launched through her as the
long, thin slivers of magic crept out of the stone and sought the
matching power inside her.
     
    “Give it to me,” she ordered huskily.
Pressing a hand to her stomach, she grimaced as a pain suddenly
overtook her.
     
    “No. For the moment, I find that it is in my
best interests to keep it in my possession, after all, it seems to
be the only way I can actually control you, is it not?”
     
    She licked her lips, but could not lie. Even
if it would prompt him to return the ring to her keeping.
     
    “Nothing to say, sweet Venus? I find that I
have plenty...There once was a legend about a ring of onyx. Have
you heard of it, Isabeau?”
     
    Gulping, she shook her head and quietly
mouthed, “No.”
     
    “It's rather interesting. The power it
contains within its band of minerals is astonishing. Darkness
against light,” he murmured as he twisted the ring between two
fingers. She knew he would be looking at the contrasting black and
white bands of color that was almost a cross-section of dark and
light. “Everything must be balanced, Isabeau. For light to exist at
all, there must be a contrast. Something to maintain the status quo
of the world. As Newton said, for every action there is a reaction.
One life saved, another destroyed. One child born, an adult
dies.”
     
    She licked her lips. “It is not a destructive
power. It is for good. Not bad!”
     
    “No, that is where you are wrong, Isabeau. It
depends on who contains the source of the magic and if he or she is
intrinsically good or evil.”
     
    “I'm the last of my family. The last Hart. I
am good. Not evil,” she stated confidently, although her voice
shook.
     
    “Magic is destructive. In whatever guise it
is couched.”
     
    “No! It is not! And it's not magic!”
     
    His head slowly lifted and he seared her with
his gaze. “The onyx ring of legends past is said to bind men's
minds to the wearer. Is this the same ring, do you think, last
Hart? Does it give you the power of an asrai over men's hearts?
Your beauty is such that it is possible, no? Can you bewitch them
like the mythical creatures of old?”
     
    She nibbled her lip anxiously. “I do not
know. I have only ever used it for healing purposes,” she replied
earnestly. “And to hide myself from danger. But I am not an asrai,
of all things!”
     
    “The