“What the hell is that supposed to?—”
Fuck, Everett swears, standing to pull Maven's chair back.
It takes me a moment to realize he's freaking out because even though she's keeping her face free of pain, one of her hands is clutching at her chest.
Do not make a fucking scene, her strained voice echoes in my head.
Damn it all.
I stand, glancing at Crypt. He nods once and vanishes, not needing to be told what to do.
Meanwhile, Baelfire surprises me by not blowing up with shifter emotions in reaction to our keeper’s episode. Instead, he turns to the Garnet Wizard to politely excuse us as Everett walks hand in hand with Maven away from the table.
She's stopped clutching her chest, but I can see the sweat breaking out on the back of her neck as we walk under the holiday mage lights and pass the other acolyte tables full of stares and glares.
“Leaving so soon,your ladyship?” that bastard, Parker, mocks from somewhere.
I'll hex him with some horrible disfiguration later. Right now, I take Maven's other hand as she keeps pretending everything is fine. I know she doesn't want to appear weak in front of the acolytes here, which is wise, but knowing she's in pain is fucking awful.
“Breathe. You're doing great, Snowdrop,” Everett murmurs gently.
It’s bizarre how soft he is with her when he’s always been such an icy prick.
As soon as we're out of sight of the Great Hall, Maven sways, choking and clutching harder at her chest.
“Fuck,” she grits, voice breaking. “Something's wrong. Different. I?—”
Her legs give out, but Baelfire is abruptly there to scoop her up. He hurries toward the guest cottage, cradling her like the precious cargo she is as we follow.
“Crypt will have the medicine ready,” I promise, opening the door and then locking it behind us. Earlier, I gave the incubus a draft of my new batch, the kind she can hopefully take orally, in case we were caught by surprise precisely like this.
Maven's face is twisted in agony, shaking her head as Baelfire gently lowers her to the bed.
“S—something feels fuckingwrong,” she chokes again.
Crypt appears and brings the vial to her lips, looking as tormented as the rest of us to see our powerful keeper like this.
“Here, love. Open up for me?—”
Maven suddenly goes slack as her eyes slip shut. At the same time, something tugs so godsdamned painfully in my chest that I cry out. Everett does, too, staggering against the wall as he grapples over his heart, grimacing.
My vision blurs as pain blossoms through my center, and then a chillingly deep voice rumbles in my mind through the bond.
What game do you play, my daughter? You begin to test my patience. I sense a change in the shadows within you. You wax stronger, but how?
“Silas? Snowflake? Shit!” Baelfire swears, trying to shake me out of this trance.
A horrible sensation fills me as I hear flesh-crawling screams from somewhere far away. A chorus of people in agony, and one woman in particular sobbing out Maven's name.
I give you five days until your next mark must fall. Fail me, and they shall perish and be devoured.
I can finally draw in a breath as the tugging feeling fades, though the terror and pain lingers in my chest, wrapped around my pounding heart like a vice.
I realize I'm propped up against the wall, coated in a sheen of cold sweat. Everett is just as shell-shocked as I feel.
Maven is still out. Gone.
Crypt and Baelfire are nowhere to be seen. If I had to take a wild guess, I would venture to say the dragon shifter lost his shit again, seeing his mate like this.
