She narrowed her eyes. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“I’ve saved your life more than once now. And I’ll be here now, when you take off the ring. If the spirit tries to hurt you, I’ll put the ring back on. Just like I did in Lilinor.”

The wind rustled the elm leaves, whipping her hair around her head. She couldn’t bear the thought of that wild rage and agony. “I’m not doing it.”

“Running away from your true nature won’t keep you alive. You can’t be scared of it.”

“It’s not my true nature. It’s an invasive nature, just like Bileth’s aura in my skull. And I don’t want the magic to corrupt and deform my body.”

Caine furrowed his brow. “I thought we’d established that my godlike beauty dispelled that myth.”

“That’s just because you’re an incubus.”

“No, it’s because magic doesn’t deform the human body. When will you understand that the Purgators are wrong about nearly everything?”

“I felt this thing corrupting me. I felt the evil when Ambrose yanked off the ring.”

“You’ve been trained to fundamentally reject magic, and that’s why it feels evil. You’ve been hiding from it for most of your life, and that means you’re at war with it. You need accept that it’s a part of you now.”

If he thought she could master this particular fear, he was wrong. The spirit’s mind was the seventh circle of hell. Of course she was scared. Fear was a normal human emotion, absent only from demons and psychopaths. And while Caine fit at least one of those categories, Rosalind still felt a natural, human terror at the idea of losing her mind.

Even so, it wasn’t like she’d admit to being scared. She had her pride.

She lifted her face. “If anyone should be scared of me taking off the ring, it’s you, since I’m pretty sure this mage is a psychotic murderer. But if that’s what you want, then fine. Just stand back so I don’t rip your spine out through your throat.”

Nice. I’m starting to talk like a vamp.

Caine smiled. “Don’t get cocky. You speared one demon prince, but I’m not overly worried about my chances in a fight against you.”

Now she kind of hoped the mage would do a tiny bit of damage. She sucked in a shaky breath, and slipped the ring off her finger.

Chapter 15

As soon as she slid the ring off, the second soul inside her opened like a flower, and another presence filled her mind.

“Druloch calls to me,” it whispered. “I live within the tree’s shadows.”

Someone looked out at the world through her eyes, and sent energy through her legs, forcing her to run. Bright, silvery light pierced the oak leaves above her. Elms towered over the forest floor. In the bright moonlight, they cast long shadows—the woods’ fingers.

The forest teemed with life. Hawthorn petals carpeted the mossy earth. Around the path, blueberry bushes grew, and wild fox grape vines climbed over trees, their branches full of sparrows and blackbirds. The rich, peaty scent of the woods hung thick in the air. But there was death here, too, and sacrifice. Something drew her into the trees’ shadows.