It's been one week since I expelled my poltergeist, received my father's message, and saw Grimm. I found myself adapting to the castle perfectly fine. I wake up and eat breakfast with Dilara while she is on her laptop (not hers but one she found) trying to catch up with her classes as she tries to finish the semester on a good mark. 

But I know she is also doing it because the Parmagis of Oregon know she is here to serve her sabbatical sentence. She purposely chose to be in werewolf territory and came to the university here. She blended in with humans, werewolves, and other witches and warlocks living here.

The werewolves don't mind a few witches, especially those who do not matter greatly to the council.

Still, I asked her, "Are you sure the wolves won't attack us?" Dilara shook her head. "So long as we don't make our presence too known they won't do anything." That worried me because there have been attacks and the wolves must have known. At least there won't be anything happening for a while. We're stuck inside this massive castle with the next town out of reach.

She then meets my gaze, "That's how he did it, right? Apart from the veil you have on, your father placed you here because the scent of the wolves would disguise you." 

I shrugged but she went on, "My father told me to come here. When the council sentenced me to spend my one-year sabbatical here in Oregon, he told me to come into this town although it was part of the wolf territory. I thought he was kicking me out as well but I now know he was protecting me." The light in her eyes returned every time she spoke about her family. She'll see them again, I know she will.

I had told Dilara about my plans of meeting my father and performing the ritual of being bound to the Moon. The day it fell on was two days before Dilara made her decision to leave for Istanbul or not. She promised she would come with me and I was quite glad to hear that.

Besides, awaiting the ritual I have been going through my father's spell books in search of a way to bring Grimm's wings back. But my eyes get sucked into every word in these books as if they were speaking to my soul. 

Dark magic is not complicated, at least not performing it. The codex of dark magic has many branches. Demonology is what my father practices and I think I understand what he does. The separation of the human body, the soul, and the invading spirit. It would be extremely difficult to change your magic's intention and not harm the body or soul because the spirit is trying to merge with the body and soul but based on the drawings I saw they seem more like a collision.

The owner fights this spirit like two people trying to push through a narrow hallway together. Some spirits can entwine themselves which would make it more difficult for the witch or warlock to get them banished. Sigils are your guides but you evoke the power within and bring forth the spirit. Sometimes evil spirits, the stronger ones can physically harm you and the owner's body. Their energies are chaotic and can cause violent outbursts.

Dark magic can contain them, and subdue them because it is untethered. It is a raw form of magic. Vicious and enthralling. It's all limitless and coveting, it will give you the delicious lick you crave but it will ask for a high price.

After the witch or warlock succeeds in banishing the spirit the person who was once possessed can easily get possessed again. They need to close the wound the evil spirit left on the soul. It needs to be healed. Everything sounds about the same as I did with my poltergeist, except she went back inside my head.

I started drawing the sigils in a notebook, memorizing and practicing their shapes and lines. Each one is differently made for protection or summoning. After a while of writing them, I placed my hand on the wooden desk. I wanted to see if I could crave them as my father had done with the walls of the shop. I envisioned the sigil in my mind and murmured the spell under my breath like a secret.

My heart pulsed in my ears when I heard a claw-like sound tearing through the wood. I then saw it, a small-sized glimmering sigil. Protection. I felt alive as though an extension of myself was breathing, it was euphoric. I don't understand a lot of things but this I could understand.

Things were good here in this lovely gloomy castle, the only thing I didn't like is when the demon showed up. I thought Hans or Ivy would be the ones to show up but it was someone else entirely. 

On the first day, the demon knocked on the door at eight in the morning. I only slept for three hours. I remember my eyes were still half-closed. I saw a young man with brown curls and a strong poker face except his eyes slightly widened when he saw me. He quickly masked his face and resembled Ivy and Hans' stoic faces.

He wore the same black skull button coat, what a fitting uniform. He stood a little straighter. "I'm here for your progress." I raised a brow. "Do you have anything, Crier?" As if I would have the answer to Grimm's wings at eight o'clock on a Monday morning. Not with three hours of sleep.

The rabbit hopped over my side."No." I said flatly. The demon gave me a curt nod and left. The next day he came back at the same time and asked the same question. This time I slammed the door in his face. He promptly knocked on the door, yelling from the other side. "I need an answer, Crier! Hello!"

I shouted back. "THAT'S MY ANSWER!" I stuck my middle finger in the air and that was my answer every single time he asked. If I did find the solution to Grimm's wings I wouldn't tell the demon I found it. If Grimm wants his wings, he'll come himself. He has to stop acting like a damn child.

On the third day, Dilara watched the whole scene play out from the top of the stairs with a cup of coffee in her hand. "Good morning, Rabbit. Good morning, Nora. Could you slam the door a bit harder next time? I think our neighbors almost heard you." I gave her a pointed look. "Our neighbors?"

She teased. "The birds. You're scaring them off."

I laughed leaving an echo in the haunting castle. The rabbit accompanied me everywhere. He got attached and so did I. We often locked ourselves in the same room I used to expel my poltergeist. My current reads sat on the desk and the others were neatly balanced on the floor. There was a lot to read and I had a lot to catch up on. I know everyone I will face will be stronger, and far better skilled in their magic. 

But I can tolerate the pain they will inflict on me because the pain I plan to inflict, I want it to be unsalvageable. I have endurance, and they have no idea how far and low I can go.

Today was like any other day, I slammed the door on the demon for the seventh day in a row. I still didn't know his name. To be fair, I didn't want to ask. I went on with my day and locked myself in the room. Hours passed, my stomach grumbled and my eyes were growing heavy but I finally was able to translate some of the words from that page I saw of the thick book titled 'Lunaris. 1500.' The Blue Moon. The Red Moon. The Black Moon. Rebirth kept appearing too.

Daylight fell and I mimicked the same spell Dilara used to turn on the lights in the room. I reached for another book as I remembered I saw 'rebirth' there too. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It must be Dilara, she was probably coming to tell me that I should come to eat with her. If you want to be powerful, you must be knowledgeable, I thought. This could be helpful.

I lifted my hand and waved it as the door creaked open. Without looking up, I said. "Come in. I'll eat with you in a second. Let me just finish reading this part." I flipped to the next page. A hint of smoke swirled in, and my nose scrunched. "Did you burn something? You smell like..." Not a candle. Not burnt food. More like—

"Death." And a shiver ran down my spine. The tip of my finger gripped the page, my eyes frozen on the page. He was here. Grimm was back. My heart pounded insistently and I wanted to shush it for being so loud. I blink a couple of times until I feel confident in myself, "Oh, it's you." I continued to read.

He comes closer, his scent suffocating my lungs in the most pleasing way possible. I wanted to look at him but I was angry with him. I don't know why I am so upset with him. My heart keeps getting in the way of what I need from him. He is not meant to stay with me forever. He is not for me. But, oh, why do my hands feel like strangling him, and my lips wanting to kiss him?

"You sound displeased." He said matter-of-factly.

My gaze skims over the words. "How should I sound?" I answered stiffly. "What pleases you, Death? Or should I call you, mi rey?" He probably knew or didn't know what I said but he can guess.

"Am I your king?" Grimm asked, there was a bit of amusement in his voice.

He was not my king. He was not anything I could call mine. He was a fantasy I should never indulge in. "You're The Capturer of Souls and I am The Crier of Souls, that is what we are to each other." We're the ends of a bridge, we can see each other but we can't leave. We must hold ourselves for the sake of others and ourselves too.

Grimm moves on, "I see you've been keeping yourself busy. Your father's books?"

"Yes."

He then says, "And you have a pet?" My eyes briefly glance at the rabbit curled in the corner with a brown blanket and blending with it. I shut the book in front of me as I can't move past the sketches of the moon phases. "You have impeccable sight. Is there something you need from me, Grimm?" I could not face him yet, I needed my heart to slow down.

"If you could look at me," He hesitates. "That would be all I need today."

I get up from the chair scraping the floorboard and turn around, he looks the same as I last saw him. Embodying wickedness and handsomeness. He wore his elegant coat of silvered skulls, each one gleaming more than the lights here. His thick hair was pushed back but a few strands of hair hung over his forehead that drove me insane. My eyes almost got lost in his starry eyes and I didn't need to be lured by his reddish lips. He must be sculpted.

I reached for a book and placed it over my chest. "Our deal is broken." His hands were behind his back, I wonder if that was his way of restraining himself. Grimm's brows furrowed then the realization dawned on him. He nodded his head and stretched his hand and stupidly, I grabbed it.

My thumb pressed against his palm, his gaze cut to mine. "That is not what I need anymore." His jaw tightened. "And what do you need from me?" His eyes moved back and forth, searching for the answer. I need him to get out of my sight before I do something terrible.

"I'm thinking—"

"You're plotting." Am I too obvious?

I admit, "I know you help the dead move on by getting back at those who have wronged them. But I'm not dead and I don't want to wait until I'm dead to get my vengeance. I have to do it myself. I need to do this and if I'm going to do this then, I will be calling you more often."

The tips of his fingers graze my thumb. Grimm's eyes stray down, not practically looking at anything. I can't tell what he is thinking but I need to know. He finally says, "You want me to kill them?" I grip the book in my other hand. "Would you?" He lifts his head and only smiles.

I let go of his hand. "I don't want you to kill them. That will be my job. You can take their souls and drag them to the depths of Hell or walk them to Paradise. I don't care. Capture their souls and get them out of my way."

Grimm raises his brows. "You want me to clean your mess."

I rolled my eyes. "I am delivering you, souls. It's your job to capture them. I'm making it easier for you." His lips slightly curve.

"Have you always been this desirable? So demanding." The fluttering sensation floats in my stomach. He places his hand behind his back again. Grimm walks over, his body too close to mine. 

His gaze looks over my shoulder and I try to keep an even breath. "Is this where your mind has gone to? Dark magic." But there was no accusation, simply curiosity. I nod. I hear him flipping the pages and I watch the muscle in his jaw work.

I clear my throat. "Will you come if I call you?" Grimm's shoulders got rigid, his gaze turned to mine. They're intense and darkened. "If I come, is that all you need from me?" His voice was careful. We could share the silence. We could look at each other. We could talk. We could listen to each other. We could keep what binds us together alive. Because you and I need each other in the smallest things. I didn't dare to tell him this, but somehow he understood. He accepted.

Grimm backed away to leave but I couldn't let him leave. I couldn't let go. My hand latched itself on his arm. His hand formed a tight fist, his knuckles white. "Don't. Every time you touch me, you're killing me."

I ignore his wishes, "Say my name." He lifts his chin, his eyes are still profound as the night. "Call me by my given name and I will come to you," I said quietly.

My eyes glance down at his delirious lips. It was maddening waiting for my name to be spoken by the devil and yet, I desperately needed to hear it. My fingers curl around his arm, pressing into his thick coat. Say it. Say it.

"Nora," My name falls off his lips, sweetly. The flutters swoop at my heart, dangerously and feverishly. My name should not sound so sweet, but he made it so. He says it again, "Nora." And it echoes in my head, captivating his voice. Rough and starving. 

He would make me lose my sanity. Not power, not the spirits, not any poltergeist, but his voice. My hand on his arm moves on its own accord, sliding upwards feeling his muscles beneath the coat. The longer my eyes stare at his lips, I slip away from reality.

He gently grabbed the book from my other hand and threw it on the desk. I could barely hear the sound it made, I was far away. So far. His hand slowly slips behind my back and draws me closer. My hands reach for the back of his neck, my fingers run through his silky hair. He closes his eyes and shivers. "Nora." A whisper of torment and greed.

My nose brushes against his. "Should I give you my mercy?" Grimm's shoulders rise up and down. "Your mercy would be eating my heart while it's still beating for you." He said in a low and hushed tone.

I bring one finger under his chin, tilting it up. "I can make an exception for tonight." He presses his forehead to mine, and my breath hitches. "Show me your rotten self." His eyes flash, stunned and uneasy. But he conceals himself under the blackened veins, they thrum like poisonous roots. My fingers grazed them lightly, they didn't take away the color in his lips. They were red as blood.

Grimm shuddered. "Mercy, Crier. Mercy." I lowered his chin and captured his lips against mine.

He fell smoothly, tasting like ice and sweetness. His lips were soft and gentle, I was scared that if I bit him I might make him bleed. The image appeared in my head, a tempting sight and pleasure. He asked for mercy and yet, the true mercy should've been letting him leave because now, his lips have touched mine and it would be merciless if I parted from them so soon. One taste is not enough. He and I both knew that. 

Still, I pulled back, his eyes were still closed but a pained expression set between his brows.

Our breaths exchange in the little proximity we made. "Is this a dream?" Grimm asked, hoarsely.

I said. "Open your eyes." And he slowly does.

His eyes flicker over my lips, eyes, brows, and nose. He cautiously slides his palm on my cheek until his fingers are on the back of my neck and his other hand is in my hair. "You're too divine to be here. How do I live after knowing your existence? How should I live after our lips have touched? Tell me, cruel woman." He sounded desperate for an answer.

I leaned in, "Show me your devotion. Give me your worship." I did not spare him. "Kiss me." Lust sunk into his eyes and he kissed me with hunger and conviction.

Grimm might taste like sweetness but there was nothing sweet about this kiss. His lips moved hungrily as if he had been left starving. I kissed him back with the same intensity, like a violent thought. He was like a cursed man who needed to be saved from a monster except he found another, and he became a devotee. My devotee, my worshiper, my ruin. His fingers dug into my hair as his teeth scraped my lower lip, and a gasp escaped from my mouth. He snuck his arm around my waist and tugged me closer.

I lightly licked his lower lip and a suppressed moan came from his throat. That's a sound I would like to hear again and often. I did it again because my greed was high and he was full of sin, I craved him more. He kisses me harder as a punishment for the man he'll become. He suddenly lifts me by the waist and naturally, my legs wrap themselves around his torso. He sets me down on the desk. The air grows hotter and heavier by the second. I needed him everywhere. His tongue would put me out of my misery.

He gently pushes a knee between my thighs, he bites my lips again before he abruptly slams his hands on the desk. Grimm pulls back, giving me a full view of his swollen and deep red lips. They could be a work of art. 

"Why did you stop?" I panted.

Grimm looks a bit dazed as if he were drunk from my sole lips. "You taste like cherries." He releases a shaky breath. "I want you in all the ways I should not have you."

"So then have me," I say too quickly.

His lips curl, wickedly. He brings one hand around my neck, he slightly lifts it. My body was aching for him, my skin burning with desire. He was cold and I was on fire, he was the only one who could soothe me. Except he brushes his lips against my throat in a slow torment. 

His thumb caressed the back of my neck. "I will have you. I always wonder what other sounds could come out of your mouth. Do you scream in pleasure? Do you like to dominate those in your bed or do you enjoy being treated as a sacred blessing?" He presses his body against mine. "Should I have you? Should you take it?" His voice was below a whisper.

Grimm then lightly sucks my throat and a breathy moan escapes from my mouth. "Oh, you can be louder than that." He licks my skin as if he is the remedy. 

I inhale, "Then should you do something about it." He comes into my view, eyes shining like the stars. Full of promise.

"I will but not tonight." I straighten my spine. Grimm's hand slides my neck to my hand, resting and it looks natural as if it should always be that way. "I want to take you somewhere. I need you there with me."

I raised a brow. "Where do you need me?"

"At a gala."