“Steal you away again?” Eldrik mused. Chuckling, he rose to his feet with a flourish, gold cape flaring around his legs as he approached. “I’m afraid that will not happen. All power has limits, even that of kings.”
Eldrik’s blue eyes gleamed as he brought the white bowl to his lips again as he drank.
It wasn’t a bowl—but a skull.
Her stomach dropped with revulsion, churning into horror when she recognized the nick crossing the left temple.
Laurent.
A sob caught in her throat. “You profane, wretched craven!”
Eldrik’s grin sharpened, delighted. “Thirsty, princess?”
She barely got a breath before he grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open. The wine hit her tongue, bitter and metallic. She screamed and thrashed as he tipped the skull higher, liquid choking her. She turned her head, gagging.
Eldrik’s laughter cut short when a deep rumble went through the castle. He looked up at the ceiling warily. It shook again like a beast ramming against the gates.
Rune.
It was her turn to faintly smile.“He will kill you.”
Eldrik laughed, setting down Laurent’s skull on his desk. “Your demon lord has been attempting to break in here all night, but unfortunately for him… we have taken precautions.”
He snapped his fingers.
The glyphs pulsated with harsh white light. Sun sigils. Purified wards carved by Summer Court magic and sealed with royal blood.
“Your beacons have been altered,” Eldrik said, examining the glow with pride. “Wards of light over every entrance to this castle. He cannot cross them. Nor can your pet.”
Alora froze.
The bond ached in her chest like a fist against her heart. She reached, desperate, and hit a wall. Nothing but dull smog.
Thunder rattled the walls. Not from outside. Frombeneath,as if a force was battering the foundation. The castle violently shook and the attacks immediately stopped.
What spells did Eldrik use that were powerful enough to keep out a god and a Vareth. No, it wasn’t merely that. Rune could have brought the castle down, but he would never risk harming her.
Alora closed her wet eyes, throat tight with dread and longing. She could almost sense Rune outside, seething with rage, pacing, feral and restless.
“Oh, I have never seen a more pitiable god.” Eldrik laughed. “He is desperate for his bride, but you were mine first and I will have what I deserve.”
His gaze swept eagerly over her body, but there was nothing lustful about it. His eyes gleamed with a manic awe, like an obsessed man at last seeing what he so frenziedly sought. Eldrik lingered on the markings etched into her skin, his finger tracing the delicate, ancient lines of magic that glowed faintly beneath her collarbone.
Alora recoiled. “Don’t touch me!”
“I have waited too long,” Eldrik murmured. “Oh, I can feel the magic in your veins. Such delicious divine power.”
His fingers twitched at his sides, as if aching to carve it out of her. The kind of thrill that came from knowing something forbidden was within reach.
She stared at him, her chest heaving. “You never wanted to marry me…”
“Marriage. Such a sordid custom. I never had any interest in that or your dilapidated kingdom. My plan was always to return to Arthal wielding the sun’s divine flame. Even if I have to peel it out of you.”
Alora’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, and she glanced down at the glowing white markings moving beneath her skin.
She was made by the power of the old and the new.
But Eldrick was after the sun’s flame.
