He smiled and turned back to the bedroom door, motioning for her to follow. “I can think of much worse ways to meet my end than on my knees before you.”
Isla ignored the spark of rebellion that ignited within her, the twisted desire at the image now painted in her mind.What is wrong with me? Before walking away, Isla spotted a letter opener on the desk and quickly scooped it up, shoving it into the long sleeve covering her right arm, the slight pressure against her wrist calming her erratic pulse.Just in case.
She trailed behind Sebastian and almost tripped over her feet at the sight that greeted her. They were in a magnificent corridor with the highest ceiling she’d ever seen. The tan walls were all inlaid with gold designs, delicate swoops and spirals that intertwined in beautiful patterns across the hall’s entire length. Her footsteps echoed on the dark wood floor, which was so shiny and reflective, she could almost see herself in it when she glanced down. Decorative shields and swords graced one section of the wall, with the Karstos symbol of a snake curled around a large tree set into all of the steel. An enormous varnished gold candelabra hung from the ceiling above her, and more of them lined the rest of the long hallway.
They passed several doors as they made their way to wherever Sebastian was leading her, turning every once in a while down more corridors that all looked almost identical. Some walls had portraits depicting the lush landscapes of Karstos, while others bore mirrors the height of Isla’s entire body. As they turned for a third time, portraits of men and women wearing crowns and the navy blue of Karstos royalty stared down at her. They must be the late monarchs of the kingdom. Sebastian was moving too quickly for Isla to stop and examine them or read the captions transcribed beneath each one, but when they reached the end, she paused.
The penultimate portrait was of Sebastian’s father, the late King Ryder Avax. His bright blue eyes were warm and kind, his full cheeks framed by long, curly hair and a beard that was a couple of shades darker than Sebastian’s blonde locks. He wore a cape of rich blue, and his hands rested proudly on a scabbard carrying a sword with a golden hilt at his waist. Although Isla had never visited Karstos, the benevolence of King Ryder was well known. She knew he’d been a compassionate king, one who cared for his people and put their well-being above his own status.
Her attention fell on the final painting resting next to the one of King Ryder. She would recognize the subject in her sleep: it was Sebastian, except…it wasn’t.
There was his strong jawline and angled cheekbones, his light hair and toned arms. But his skin held more color in the portrait; it wasn’t quite as pale as the man before her. And even more disarming were his eyes. The ones Isla had always seen when she looked at Sebastian were so dark they appeared black, but in this painting, they were the same shade as his father’s: bright blue and full of a roguish joy that drew Isla in.
She took a couple of steps closer to the frames, her fingers reaching out to graze the solid gold. Sebastian’s impatient tone from several feet ahead of her brought her back to the moment. “Do you wish to see your family or not?”
Her arm retracted, and a blush flared up on her neck and cheeks. “You look…different. What happened to your eyes?” she blurted.
He didn’t respond but clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead, effectively shutting down that line of questioning.
They walked in silence for another minute before her burning curiosity got the better of her. “How does this magic work? Am I really here, or is my body still back in the cave, like when you visited my dreams?” She didn’t know how her body could have been transported across an entire ocean, but she also couldn’t explain her ability to touch and feel things around her if she wasn’t actually there.
“Your body is where you left it. Our spirit connection lets you appear before me and use all your senses as if you were physically here, but only I can see you,” he explained, his demeanor less icy than before.
“Why only you?”
“Because it’s my powers and blood anchoring you here, to me. You can’t move far outside of my reach since my consciousness is what’s keeping you here.” He paused, then added, “It’s as if you’re my personal phantom.”
“Would anybody be able to drink your blood and their mind be transported to wherever you are?”
He shot a sly look at her. “No, that pleasure is reserved only for you. Do you remember when I took a lock of your hair?”
Isla nodded, her eyes narrowing.
“That’s what I used to form the connection. I needed a piece of you for the magic to work, to bind your spirit to mine so that we could meet like this.”
“So, our spirits are…bound?” she asked, fear taking her mind captive while a shock of intrigue traveled through her.
“Don’t get too excited, love,” he said. “It’s only temporary, but try not to use it often—even if it is hard to resist me. Ah, here we are.” He came to a stop outside of a tall door, pulled a key from his pocket, and inserted it into the golden keyhole.
Anger at him for keeping her family locked away as prisoners simmered in her veins, even though she supposed that’s what they were to him. But when he pushed the door inward and revealed the room beyond, surprise licked at her instead.
The room was nowhere near as lush or fancy as the king’s private suite, but it was far better than anything she’d grown up with. The walls were a light gray with wooden floors covered by a plush, cream-colored rug. There was a small fireplace by the door and a few furniture items taking up the space: a dresser, a side table with an oil lamp, and a large bed with navy quilts and pillows topping it. A figure lay sleeping under the blankets, the yellow glow from the candelabras in the hallway lighting the foot of the bed.
Isla turned to Sebastian, her eyes wide. “Is that my father? But this room is so…so nice.” Her eyes darted back to the sleeping man, keeping her voice at a whisper, even though only Sebastian could see and hear her. “I thought he’d be chained, or in the dungeons, or…I just didn’t expect this.” She trailed off as Sebastian faced her, his eyes finding hers.
“Even the devil has a heart, love. As cold and black as it may be.”
She tried not to let his words engulf her in ice as he gestured for her to enter the room. Padding across the thick rug, her fingers and stomach tingled with the anticipation offinallyseeing her father. She approached the side of the bed, and a smile toyed with the edges of her mouth as he grunted in his sleep and rolled toward her. Even that small motion had a lump rising in her throat and tears pooling in her eyes, relief coasting through her like the sun’s warmth on a winter day. Because he couldmove—he was healed, he was back to normal, he was unharmed. A choked sob escaped from her lips as she gently stroked his cheek with trembling fingers, knowing he couldn’t feel her but hoping he knew how much she loved him.
“He gets plenty of food and as long as he stays inside the boundaries, he’s free to walk around the palace. He spends most of his time with your brother, playing cards with the kitchen staff. In case you were wondering,” Sebastian added dryly.
Maybe she’d lost her mind, or maybe it was the knee-weakening relief and elation at seeing her papa, but something drove her to cross the room and grab Sebastian’s hand.
“Thank you,” she said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her other sleeve.
A crease of surprise appeared on his brow at her action. This time, she knew she wasn’t imagining things—his eyes turned from pitch black to the brightest blue, the same shade as his portrait hanging on the wall.
Isla gasped and dropped his hand. “What—”
