Further on, a caged orb floats above a column of bone, chained in silver netting that shimmers in and out of visibility. It pulses like a heartbeat—first green, then red, then black, then back to green again. I don’t know what it does, but the hair on the back of my neck stands up every time it throbs. There’s real power here—something has been bound and it’s not happy about it.
Again, I make damn sure not to touch it.
But then I see it—a doorway at the far end of the chamber. Tucked between two bookcases, it’s half-concealed by vines and shadow.
I walk closer. The door itself is made of some kind of obsidian glass, framed in iron thorns, and etched in a language I can’t read. Also, it’s glowing.
Purple light comes from it—faint at first, then stronger. After a moment I realize it’s throbbing in time with my heartbeat.
Come, it seems to whisper. Come see what I can show you…come seek the answers you need to know…
The pull is instant—magnetic. I feel it like a thread winding around my ribs, yanking me forward. I know it’s stupid. I know it’s fucking dangerous. But I want to open that door.
No, not want…need.
I’m halfway across the room before I realize I’ve moved. My hand lifts, slow and sure, reaching for the iron handle, which radiates cold even from inches away. Every instinct in me screams to stop—and yet I keep walking.
One step…two. I’m right there.
My fingers brush the surface of the handle. A jolt spikes up my arm like lightning. My jaw tightens.
“I should not be fucking doing this,” I growl under my breath.
And yet, I’m doing it.
And then…Irena screams.
The sound is faint—muffled. But it’s unmistakable. Her voice—full of horror—cuts through the enchantment drawing me to the door like a fucking blade.
“Fuck!” I jerk back, stumbling away from the door. The purple light flares, then dims like a dying star.
I whip around, scanning the room, trying to orient myself. Her voice came from the left—but I feel dazed. I find my way and move fast, slamming through the open door and back into the hallway, heart hammering like a drum in my chest.
I don’t know what the fuck is behind that glowing door, but it can wait.
My Princess needs me.
And nothing—not thorns, not magic, not even the Lady of Thornmere herself—is going to keep me from getting to her.
46
VALEN
I run.
The hallway blurs around me, a tunnel of flexing wood and whispering shadows, but I don’t stop. My bare feet slam against the floor, heartbeat thundering in my ears. Her scream echoes—fractured and sharp—and my Drake thrashes beneath my skin, claws scraping bone, roaring for me to find her.
Now.
The hallway outside the room has changed. I skid around a curve in the corridor, my shoulder slamming the wall hard enough to splinter wood. I don’t care—the pain is nothing. Not when she sounds like that.
There’s a door ahead that wasn’t there before—thick, gnarled, and half-covered in ivy. It slams shut as I approach, but I throw my whole fucking weight into it and burst through with a roar.
I finally reach the familiar bark door of our room and burst in—and then I see her.
Irena is naked in a tub. At first I think she’s just taking a bath…then I see the vines and hear her moan.
Not a scream—not like before—but a low, aching sound that shoots straight to my cock and coils there, dark and hot. For a heartbeat, I stop cold, hand outstretched, breath caught in my throat.
