She stumbled back, her chest still throbbing with pain as she doubled over. Her vision was nearly black now.
Then the pain abated. She lifted her eyes and found Morkai frowning down at her. His blood no longer hovered over his palm and hers had returned to a tiny drop. He lowered his palm and the ball of blood disappeared.
“I won’t bind you to me,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “Weavings of fate take more power than I’m willing to expend. Instead, I will give you time to choose me. And you will. You will choose one half of my heart willingly, or you will take the other half unwillingly.” He said the last part through his teeth as he wrenched her arrow from his flesh and threw it into the fire. Then he took his cane from under his arm and pointed it at the sleeping Roizan. He pressed his other hand to his seeping wound. In a matter of seconds, he stood straighter.
He’d healed himself.
“I will give you time to think.”
“I don’t need time to think,” she spat out. “I will never choose you.”
A tic formed at the corner of his jaw. “Is it the boy then? The prince?”
Her pulse kicked up. “Teryn? He’s…he’s nothing to me. He betrayed me.”
Morkai scoffed. “I see the way you look at him. I’ve been on the receiving end of looks like that. I know what it means.”
“You mean hatred? Yes, I imagine you’ve received many looks like that.”
“You could never be Teryn’s queen. Do you know what the prince’s father did tohisqueen? He tried to have her replaced with his mistress. Teryn would only do the same to you.”
She clenched her teeth. “I never said—”
“Haven’t you figured out why I took your blood all those years ago? Why I wove it with Queen Linette’s?”
Cora’s breath caught. All she could manage was a shake of her head.
“I bound your fate to the queen’s. It took all the power I’d stored in my Roizan up until that point, but I succeeded.”
“Then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”
“Death was not the bond I wove. A death weaving doesn’t take nearly as much power, for it is an immediate sentence, not a long-term curse. It was your fate I wove, one that guaranteed—like the queen—you would die childless. It was an idea you inspired. I don’t have your ability to sense others’ emotions. I can only give thoughts and feelings to weak-minded beings, not receive them. But you knew the queen had lied about providing an heir. I’d already known I’d have to do away with her one way or another. She’d already begun trying to turn Dimetreus against me. And letting her further Dimetreus’ line would only hamper my plans. But your little scene at dinner that night made me realize I could take care of two problems at once.”
Cora’s stomach turned over with a wave of nausea. She resisted the urge to bring her hand to her stomach. “Why would you do that? Why would you try to keep me from having…” She couldn’t even say the next word. The prospect of having children had rarely crossed her mind. She was nowhere close to ready when it came to becoming a mother. But the realization that he’d tampered with something so personal, so intimate….
Her legs gave out and she sank into her chair. Sweat beaded behind her neck, down her back. The laces of her corset felt too tight, too smothering. “Why?”
“The unicorns. The mother. The child. Who do you think you are in that prophecy?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “The mother, Aveline. You are the mother and your child would have been my enemy. I knew of the prophecy long before I came to Khero, and I knew who you were the moment I met you. I sensed your magic, respected it. That’s why I never wanted to kill you, regardless of the threat you posed. Weaving your fate was the only thing I could do to let you keep your life.”
He said it with so much false kindness, it made her want to retch. Fury roared through her blood, and it demanded his life. She extended a hand toward her quiver, even as Morkai’s eyes trailed her every move. She didn’t care if he stopped her. She didn’t care if she died trying—
The door flew open and a guard stormed in. “There’s a unicorn circling the castle wall.”
Morkai’s expression shuttered. “A unicorn?”
“It’s been trying to get in.”
Cora was frozen halfway toward reaching for her quiver. Her mind went to Valorre. It couldn’t be…
The Roizan stood and growled at the open door.
Morkai turned narrowed eyes upon her. “Do you have a friend, Aveline?” Her guilt must have shown on her face for he broke into a dark laugh. Turning to the Roizan, he shouted, “Find it.” The Roizan darted across the room, sending the guard diving out of the way as the creature squeezed through the door.
Cora’s hand closed around the strap of her quiver—
“Seize her,” Morkai said. Cora dove for her bow, but the guard was faster. He tore the weapons from her grip and twisted her arms behind her back. Morkai gathered up her bow and quiver as the guard hauled her out the door. She struggled the entire way down the stairs, through the dark halls, but it was no use. The guard evaded her every attempt to free herself. Soon the stench of rot filled her nostrils. Panic set in as they entered an eerily familiar part of the castle. Not eerie in the same way she’d feel if they’d been heading for the former queen’s chambers. This sense of terrifying recognition came from returning to a place Cora had only been once before.
The dungeon.
