The bark of a cypress tree dug into Isaac’s back as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the trunk. The hard ground beneath his legs did nothing to ease his aching muscles, but this would all be over soon. Once the witch was dead, the spell would lift and his body could repair itself…and stay that way.

The temptation to send his tulpa to kill her now was palpable. He could end his own anguish, but death was too easy for the one who did this to him. She deserved to suffer one thousand times worse for what she’d done.

He took the jar from his pocket and gazed at the orb rolling around in the liquid. This little act of magic would require another week of recovery, but he’d endure the agony in order to watch her suffer.

His knuckles cracked as he gripped the lid and twisted it from the jar. Sharp pain shot up to his elbow, the rotating movement threatening to rip it from its socket. Dropping the lid, he poured the contents into his palm, allowing the liquid to flow through his fingers. He closed his hand around the eye and concentrated on the magic within it.

“May the magic inside be my guide.” His voice came out in a croak. “I call on her sight to lead me through the night. Show me Rain, who has caused me insufferable pain.”

The eye warmed in his hand, sending tingling energy up his arm and into his core. He closed his own eyes, allowing the visions to swim through his mind. Blurry at first, as his concentration focused, they came into crisp view.

“There you are, my little Rain. My, how you’ve grown.” She hadn’t been much more than a girl when he’d met her all those years ago. Powerful, but immature. She’d been an easy target, and once he’d cast his spell of obsession, she’d been his to manipulate. She was still beautiful, though her features had matured and her hair had grown. A familiar ache seized in his chest. He had cared for her once, but she’d hardly acknowledged his existence. Always focused on her magic and starting her business, power and position in the coven had been her main concerns.

His spell had taught her to love. To care for him above all else. He’d made her a better person, and she’d repaid him in the most inhumane way. The ache in his heart turned to a stab of anger, and he pushed the thoughts out of his mind and focused on her image.

But seeing her face didn’t help him with her location. He concentrated on widening the vision. She was with a man. Tall with dark hair, he looked at her as if he wanted to consume her. The smile on her lips said she’d enjoy being eaten.

Isaac paused, his ragged breath catching in his throat as he looked closer in his vision. Though the man’s face no longer contorted in pain, his features couldn’t be mistaken. The werewolf from the swamp had caught Rain’s eye.

Pain shot through his temple as he ground his teeth, and he lifted his injured arm. Cursed blood oozed through the moss bandage, and the burning from the beast’s teeth had never ceased. Of all the men his Rain could have latched onto, why did it have to be the werewolf?

He closed his eyes and looked at her in his vision. The moment her wicked spell had taken effect on Isaac, his control over her had broken. He’d get her back, though. The little witch belonged to him, and she’d learn her lesson soon enough. He’d make the man suffer first. Then her sister and anyone else she cared about.

She would fear him, and in her fear, she would respect him. He had once made her eyes sparkle like they did for this man. Perhaps he could make them shine again. If he could drain a witch powerful enough to unbind Rain’s magic, he could break her curse. With her magic restored, she could lift the spell she’d put on him and be his forever.

He gazed at her deep-gray eyes in his vision. She would pay one way or another—either sacrificing her life or devoting it to him.

He inhaled deeply, the humid air slicing like razor blades down his trachea, and reined in his emotions. “Show me where she’s been.”

His vision of Rain swam, drifting through time and space to a house—brown with white trim and green shutters. In his mind, he stepped inside and found her sitting on the couch next to the same man.

With a growl of frustration, he searched the vision again. Another building—bright yellow with a light-green door. A bakery. He peered through the window. Rain wore a blue apron and stood behind the counter, decorating a cake. His lips cracked as they curved into a smile. His pastry chef had made her dream of running a bakery come true.

Forcing his vision to the present, he watched Rain climb on the back of the man’s motorcycle. Jealousy rolled through his shriveled veins like fire. The vision wavered as the magic subsided, flickering and losing focus. It was just as well; he’d seen enough. Fisting his hand around the eye, he squeezed until the gelatinous mess oozed through his fingers, ending the horrid vision.

Piercing pain ripped through his body as the magic dissipated, but he found the strength to call upon his tulpa. The shadow figure appeared before him, ready to do his bidding. He didn’t need to speak to tell it his intent—follow the man. Make them both terrified for their lives.