Boom! Something heavy collided with the door and the whole wall shuddered. We both jumped. A frantic thumping followed, then a muffled shout. The prince stepped back, tugging the knife from my skin and brandished it at the ceiling. “Bring him in.”
Don’t. I willed them. Don’t open the door. I knew who it was, and I didn’t want him to be forced to watch.
The spirits’ hesitation was brief. Short enough that barely three heartbeats passed, roaring in my ears, but it was enough that the prince noticed.
“Now,” he spat.
The tension cleaved as quickly as it had come. A portion of the roiling mass separated and flowed down the walls, seeping through the grout.
A moment later, Clement shot through the door. He spun around, eyes wild, his movements frantic. Then he lunged toward me but snapped back, caught by invisible claws. “No! You need to—” His shouts were silenced as black vapor poured into his mouth. He pawed at his face, but his arms were pinioned to his sides, gripped by shapeless beings, his tunic tearing at the shoulders as he fought for freedom. Bruises puddled around his wrists and encircled his neck.
Eventually, he stilled and so did my heart.
The look he gave me cut to my soul. The fear, the regret, the guilt. My throat closed. My breaths carved from my chest as I offered him a small smile. I’d seen that look before. When desperation seizes control of your entire body, and you’re plunged headfirst into inertia because there’s so much you should do, so much you’ll spend eternity blaming yourself for not doing. Yet, all you can do is look. To capture every last second before time changes for ever.
That was me twenty years ago staring at my parents' bodies. Inhaling the blood, seeing the particles of dust and smoke and life ebbing away. When I moved, if I blinked, I would fast-forward, my life reset.
“Not her,” Clement choked as the bruise darkened on his neck. “She’s...”
“Special, I know,” the prince finished. “Don’t you think she’ll fit in nicely here with her attitude? Bound to serve me like the others.” He knelt in front of me and speared the tip of the knife into my chest.
My whine was lost amongst Clement’s muted screams. The spirits tightened their hold, more pouring from the ceiling to strengthen the barrier.
“And you’ll still get to see her.” The prince twisted the knife. Its edges scraped along my ribs, inches above my heart. “But she needs to agree. That's the only way it’ll work.” He leaned forward until his lips hovered above mine. “Now, where was I?”
Even if I could scratch him, I’d still die. The feeble tower I’d spent my life constructing would topple. The deal would be over, the Collectors would have their lives ended.
And Clement? I’d watched people I loved die when I could have stopped it. I’d lived with the guilt. I’d not do it to him. He didn’t deserve that fate.
My hand shook as I forced my fingers to slide under the thick iron bonds and depressed the clasp on the bangle. The cold tip of the needle slicked out.
One of the spirits slithered down the wall. Ice prickled my back as it molded itself around me.
I’d never join the prince. I’d spent my life bending to another’s will, and I wouldn’t spend eternity doing the same.
A single bony finger inserted itself between the cuff and the needle, but it wasn’t enough. I speared the needle into my wrist, locking it in place with the heavy shackle. The spirit’s form shuddered against me.
Numbness spread like a void through my hand, up my arm and into my chest until my heart seized, and I slumped against the wall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DUTY BOUND
I probably wasn’t dead.
The bed was hard, the air smelled faintly of roses, but the covers were thick and soft and infused with Clement’s scent of pine. Fingers ran through my hair, smoothing the mess in a rhythmic motion. I snuggled deeper and blinked my eyes open to see Clement’s face pressed close, his warm breath mingling with mine.
“Are you dead too?” I asked.
“Not yet.” He shifted up on his elbow with the rest of his body coiled around me, his hand splayed on my stomach. “You should be dead, though. What were you thinking?”
“Don’t.” I forced my aching body to roll, managing to tip slightly toward him before I gave up and settled on my back again. “None of that was my fault. It’s not like I tied myself up in the dungeons.”
He exhaled heavily. “I meant the bangle. I never would have given it to you if I’d have known you’d use it on yourself.”
“Better than being awake.”
He growled before kissing my cheek. “Fuck knows what I would’ve done, Tamara.” The ache in his voice tugged on my soul. “If one of them hadn’t...”
