She smiles, then jerks her head in the direction the Fae came from. Her eyes are bright, and hope burns within their green depths. “I trust you, human. If we survive the day, perhaps we will all manage to be free of this place forever.”
I lean heavily on her, trying to conserve my strength, and after another two long flights of stairs, she pulls me into a lavish suite of rooms. They smell like her, and she brings me to a four-poster bed and lets me sit while she goes to the closet along one wall.
Shackles hang from each of the posters, and there is a smear of blood on the polished wood floor next to the bed. She has been tortured in this room. I see it in her eyes when she turns back to me and holds a cloak in one hand and a sheet in the other.
“Good enough,” I say as I fasten the cloak around my neck. I do not bother with the sheet. It would only hinder my movements. “Can you write? Communicate in any way beyond yes and no? I believe you may have the one answer I need to get us all out of here.”
Trepidation churns in her green gaze.
“Please. Aurelia is trapped her by her bargain with the King, and if she cannot utter the Prince’s name—his true name—the King’s charm will kill her if she tries to leave. She is my mate. If you can tell me his name, I can get her out of this place. And we will free you as well.”
After a hard swallow, the woman drops to her knees and reaches under the bedside table. She withdraws several scraps of paper, a fountain pen, and a jar of ink—nearly empty.
Her hand shakes as she writes, and she has to stop three times to take deep, shuddering breaths before she passes me a scrap of paper.
I can never leave. Too many bargains laid on top of one another. Nor can I give you what you need. The King forced me to agree if I even thought my son’s name again, the pain...
She winces and collapses in a heap. Carefully, I gather her into my arms and lay her on the bed before brushing her hair away from her face. “You have freed me. That is more than I could ever have asked—ever have expected. Do you have any more of those iron studs?”
Though her movements are slow and clumsy, and she wavers when she sits up, she nods.
Six left. I tuck them into the pockets of the cloak and take her hand. “If we kill the King, all of your bargains...they disappear. Come with me. Perhaps we will find a way.”
With a decisive nod, she lets me help her to her feet, and together, we steal back into the halls.
“Find our mate,”I tell the beast inside me.“Do it now.”
He roars in my head, a battle cry I know well. He will not fail.
Chapter Fourteen
Aurelia
Despite the remnants of my corset and skirt lying atop the hay, my boots are nowhere to be found. So, barefoot, I creep down the stairs one floor at a time, letting my instincts guide me. My new-found powers are growing, and my skin tingles. The voices in my head—the Fae voices—ebb and flow, and I have to focus to make one at a time stand out amid the din.
Thoughts about the impending Market day. About the King’s treatment of hisconsort.About the Prince’s change in temperament after my arrival.
Nothing about my escape or Roarke. Not until I reach a hallway with thick rugs and paintings in gilded frames. The air here is colder, more sinister, and the King’s thoughts float into my head.
“The dragon’s power is better than the finest wine. I want to see how close to death we can take him. It is possible he will give us so much power, we will be unable to absorb it all.”
I cover my mouth to stop my gasp.
“Father,” the Prince says, “I do not think I should wait to wed Lia. She is stronger than either of us thought. She has not agreed, but with the dragon in our control, we can trick her into another bargain. She has already agreed to bind herself to me if we let him go.”
“I am never releasing the dragon,” the King replies mildly, as if he is discussing whether or not to toss a feather upon the wind, not a majestic creature he has chained and close to death. “I have grown fond of his delicious energy.”
I tiptoe closer, my bare feet making no sound on the thick rugs. Risking a single glance around a corner, I try to memorize the layout of the room. The King and the Prince sit facing the hearth, each with a glass of amber liquid in their hands.
With shrug, the Prince says, “There is no need to release him. I have spent the past few hours thinking of the perfect bargain to make with my sweet bride.”
“Tell me, son.” The King sets his glass down and leans forward, and I can hear the excitement and pride in his voice. Sick bastard.
“I will tell her that we will let the dragon walk out of the castle. Unaccompanied. No Fae will follow him. But we will take his voice so that he can never speak ill of us. She must agree to marry me as soon as he leaves. I will even allow her to watch him go free.” The Prince takes another sip of his drink as the King frowns.
“If we let him leave, he will be able to shift. To escape,” the King says.
The Prince chuckles. “Hardly. We will provide him clothing and use our glamour to hide the collar around his neck. And without his tongue, he will never be able to tell Lia what we have done.”
