Three! A crashing sea appeared inside my ears.
No more thoughts. No fear of the midnight-blue dragon.
The knife I’d pocketed was suddenly in my hand as I stepped toward Aengus, the dragon who’d acted like a friend but had been lying to me this entire time.
DORIE, NO!A voice boomed inside my head.You will go through the cavern door we have made you. At once!
My body locked.
Then animated with a jerk.
I placed the knife back into my pocket, my actions calm, even as my mind screamed. After that, I headed toward the glowing door.
But I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t walking of my own accord. No neurons were firing to give these commands.
The voice had taken control of my body. And no matter how much I fought it, I couldn’t stop it from puppeting me through the glowing green door.
Suddenly, I was in another cavern. Cool, crisp air enveloped me along with the scents of stone, aged wood, and animal fur.
These quarters looked nothing like my bare room or Diarmuid’s workspace.
It was two times the size of my cavern and appointed in a way that brought to mind words like “duke” and “chamber.”
A path of various animal furs created a little pathway from a glowing doorway to a set of wooden double doors—so far away the distance, it felt like a journey.
An enormous four-poster sat on one side of the path, and a round stone table on the other side. Four chairs stood around it. Three stone ones as huge as thrones, and one smaller one made of wood with a seat much closer to the floor.
I barely had time to register the room before the force that had taken over my body propelled me forward and sat me down in the smallest chair, pinning my forearms to the table and planting my feet on the ground.
I couldn’t move! Couldn’t speak! Couldn’t so much as open my mouth to scream.
What is happening? What. Is. Happening?!?!
We are sorry, Reverence,the voice answered inside my head, as if it could hear my question.We are aware this is an invasion, but you have lost your temper again and left us noother choice. This is the only way we can protect you from the Royal Huntmaster.
I tried to answer the voice, but my jaw remained clamped shut, teeth gripped tight like a dentist had wired it closed. I couldn’t even move my lips. They might as well have been sealed.
You may speak to us through your mind,the voice told me.You have only to project the words as an intentional thought. Right now, your thoughts are a jumble. We could only understand your panicked, “What is happening?”
Okay… Okay…I lassoed that panic and tried to calm down.
Wolves could only communicate with each other after going into heat and mating. Before Da’s death, Senair Hamish used to grouse at his son and Maem for “having such obvious thoughts at the dinner table.”
But I’d never gone into heat and didn’t have a mate to communicate with mentally back and forth.
I did my best, fumbling inside my head to create a question.
Which one of you am I speaking to?
We are Diarmuid.
Diarmuid. The voice sounded like his commanding version, only more resonant and slightly echoey, like the entertainment industry’s version of God.
How are you doing this to me? Why can’t I move?
We are compelling you with our will. It is a power our kind has over yours and the other anthrohominids.
Other anthrohominids?
