Read Mine to Spell (Mine #2) for Free Online

law says—”
    “That I own you. I won’t wait for the engagement ceremony for what I want.”
    The engagement ceremony? Not the marriage ceremony? The unexpectedness of the comment rattles me a moment. And that moment is enough for his spell to propel me toward him. I steel myself to fight, to bite and claw and thrash, but instead of him grabbing for me, he pulls out a knife.
    Fear closes my throat tighter, but I can’t lose my words—not now. I need them to save me.
    “ What are you doing?” I sound calm. Reasonable. Not at all the frantic girl screaming inside me. I’ve never been so thankful for the tightness of my true emotions. Perhaps I can convince him to stop whatever has been planned.
    Or perhaps not. His answer is to bear his teeth in a hungry jeer which rids my remaining control. With one fluid motion, he slices my wrist. My blood immediately flows, red and bright. The world sways at the sight. I struggle to hold on, to figure out what’s going on, what he’s doing, but focusing is growing harder.
    My blood wells until it starts to drip. Instead of reaching the ground, he catches it with a powder blue spell like the one he’s using to hold me. Then he does something even stranger. He slices his own wrist open. He uses the same spell to stop his blood seeping from his wound.
    The dizziness from all the blood helps to chase away my fear but also muddles my thoughts. I only know that this is bad. Very, very bad.
    Yellow streaks grow throughout the spell holding my blood. The spell pulls my blood toward him. And something else starts to tug, something deep inside. My magic. He’s taking my magic. Panic claws at me.
    As the strongest wave of dizziness attacks, I know I have to do something before it’s too late. The world is darkening around me, trying to force me to succumb, but it hasn’t taken me yet. I slam a spell at him. I’m so far gone, I don’t even recognize what spell it is, but it flings him across the room and plasters him there.
    I crash to the floor. Without him hovering, there’s no spell keeping me or my blood in place. The blackness creeps further over my vision, but I can’t give in. Not now. I hold whatever spell I’m using on Edward steady and focus a second spell toward closing my wound. I push my power into it, willing the blood to return into the wound and heal quickly so I can deal with the issue that is Edward. And a much bigger issue: exposing my long-kept secret to one of the worst people possible. My master.
    I open my eyes and discover no blood in sight. The wooziness remains, but at a manageable level. And he didn’t manage to steal any of my magic. After several deep breaths, I pull myself together enough to stumble over to Edward. He’s bound against the wall, whimpering, my bronze spell forcing him in place.
    Blast. I didn’t mean for that to happen. Then again, I don’t know what I meant to happen. His grin has been replaced by wide-eyed shock. Well, the plan to become his possession is ruined far beyond repair. Might as well go all the way.
    I gather my eager magic for a spell father always used on Serena when she was younger and would try to run. The spell ripples from me and surges straight toward him. Its golden flare is streaked with red, hot and fiery, as it encircles his wrists. They are almost like an extension of me, feeding off my fear, tightening around him so he can’t hex me again.
    He lets out a whimper as I use the spell to lift his hands above his head. He struggles against it, attempting to shove his wrists free, but they hold. A silvery spell darts from his hands. It bites into my chain spell, trying to weaken it.
    The weakening is tiny, barely anything at all. Yet if it continues, will it be enough to get through? How long can I hold this spell anyway? I don’t know enough to stop him. But if I cover his hands, sort of bind them, maybe that would stop him? It’s worth trying. If I don’t do something, I’ll end up back under his power, and