“I look forward to it.”
Aurion snorted. “Brother. She is going to kill you.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “But at least I will die happy.”
Wen smacked my arm hard. She was not smiling. Through the bond, her anger flared hotter, mixed with reluctant determination to get through this situation despite her fury at me.
We would survive this. Together. And then I would spend the rest of my life making up for dragging her through a portal against her will.
Starting with getting on my knees and begging her forgiveness.
If she did not strangle me first.
18
— • —
Wen
The place was magical. At least, what I’d been able to see of it.
Which wasn’t much, considering I’d been basically confined to Sorcha’s quarters for the past two days while Mal and Aurion snuck around gathering supporters and planning strategy.
But what I had seen? Stone walls that rose impossibly high. Windows that looked out over mountains I didn’t recognize. Actual torches providing light instead of electricity. It was like stepping into a fantasy novel.
Except I hadn’t gotten to step. I’d been kidnapped.
Still angry about that. Very angry.
Sorcha - Mal’s mother - was wonderful, though. She’d insisted I sleep in the massive bed with her while the men took thefloor. The first night, I’d walked toward the bed and shot Mal a glare that could have melted steel. He’d looked down, grabbed a blanket, and tucked himself onto the floor right next to my side of the bed.
Like a guard dog.
My heart had squeezed at that despite my anger. He was trying. In his own stupid, overbearing, kidnapping way, he was trying.
Now it was the morning of the challenge, and I was staring at the wall of Sorcha’s sitting room, worrying myself into a panic.
In an hour, Mal would be fighting Andreas for the throne. Actually fighting. With weapons and claws and the very real possibility of death.
I was terrified.
I was alone in a foreign kingdom that I’d been dragged to against my will. My phone didn’t work here - no signal, no Wi-Fi, completely useless. My friends had no idea where I was. My bookstore was being managed by people who thought I’d taken a spontaneous vacation.
And my mate was about to risk his life in combat while I stood on the sidelines and watched.
I hated this. Hated all of it.
“You are worrying,” Sorcha said quietly from her seat across from me.
“Of course I’m worrying. Your son is about to fight someone who wants him dead.”
“Andreas wants the throne. Killing Malachar would simply be a means to that end.” She poured tea into two cups with steady hands. “But my son is a skilled warrior. He will prevail.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can. I know my son. I know his strength. His determination.” She handed me a cup. “And I know what he is fighting for now. That makes all the difference.”
I took the tea but didn’t drink it. My stomach was too knotted. “What if something goes wrong? What if-”
