17
Frost.
It tingled across the surface of my skin. Crystalized in each and every pore and left me cold, right through to my middle. Numb. Utterly so.
A blank void absent any meager scrap of energy—priestess or elite—I was untethered, left to watch as the world tilted and spun around me. Run off its axis by the weight of the Head Priestess’ shackles. That gleaming wall of pure, unusable energy caging me inside myself.
Staggering, I crashed into the wall before I could find a door knob. Before I managed to slip from Sasha’s office without daring to fully open the door. Keeping the carnage I’d wrought hidden away in the dark, where the Head Priestess scrambled to fix it despite my very best efforts.
“Ready to go, Wildcat?” Marco asked, and set one steadying hand on my shoulder. Sent, no doubt, by none other than Captain Asher Rawlings, for despite the way we’d parted, he was not the sort of man to give up possession of his favorite toy without a fight.
Reese and Aiden flanked the office without bothering to glance my way. No doubt waiting for the general to return and issue his orders.
I nodded at the captain’s man, and my chin hit my chest before I managed to recover. “Let’s go,” I rasped, sweating and cold. Yet despite fleeing the scene of my crime, I did as I was told, and prayed…
… for the general to die, no matter how hard Sasha tried to save him.
We collected Gabe outside of the manse, but for me, the walk to the captain’s residence passed in a blur of numb. A fog I couldn’t squint hard enough to see through. I heard nothing of their banter, my head lost in the swirling mists of delirium—caught somewhere between blood lust and exhaustion. Victory and defeat, for I’d held the general’s life in my hand, felt him squirm and thrash and flounder.
And I’d been ready to extinguish all that he was.
The payment had been my only ally.
Sasha revealed as another traitor with an agenda I couldn’t see and wasn’t invited to understand.
Teeth clenched, I shook my head to dispel the ache of regret.
It was, after all, a lesson I’d learned long ago. That friends were nothing but a weakness, an opportunity for future betrayal.
I was an island no man could touch.
Alone.
Always.
Except forAsher.
“Not sure if the captain is back yet,” Marco said, jerking me from my thoughts, “but it’s probably best if you wait for him upstairs.”
I blinked, a haze of blackness dotting the edges of my vision as I was escorted to the stairs. Compliant and docile, for no other reason than I hadn’t the strength for war. Not with this new cage wrapped tight around what pitiful little remained of my power.
The empath in chains of blinding priestess magic.
Instead, I allowed the soldier to guide me. One hand on my back, his mundane energy not nearly significant enough to tempt the beast to so much as rattle the bars of her cage.
But when we reached the captain’s door, I mustered a smile. My best approximation of a meek and well-behaved slave. “Thank you, Marco,” I said, pleased when he took a startled step back, “for the escort.”
Eyes darting to the captain’s bedroom door, Marco blinked, but said nothing at all as I retreated. Making every effort to be silent, I placed my hand on the heavy oak and turned the knob.
The soft click of the lock sliding home was masked by Marco’s incredulous, “I think that’s the first time she’s spoken directly to me.Gabe!”
I slipped inside the captain’s room on silent feet as Marco thundered down the stairs. Pressing my back to the solid door to gather my wits, I tried to clear my sight of the sparkle of dark stars narrowing my vision to a tight tunnel.
When I took my next breath, it was to find the captain sitting behind his desk in the dark. Head resting on steepled fingers. A decanter of rich amber liquid pinched between his elbows, his gaze was unfocused, but fixed to the contents. Watching it shimmer and swirl. On his brow, lines etched deep into the surface, tracing the crease at his eyes, hiding behind the raspy stubble shadowing his cheeks and jaw.
He looked tired.
Vulnerable.
