A scoff escaped me, and I shoved the tray away. “Right, because all I’m good for is my visions.”
His hands fell to his lap, and he leaned closer to the bed, sucking all the air from the room with that singular movement. A small gasp escaped me before I could haul it back into my mouth. His attention flicked to my parted lips. “You would be wise to remember that, little fugitive. The Angel court is not a place for those who forget their position.”
“The Angel court is not somewhere I ever want to be. And yet I’m being dragged there against my will. To serve in senseless bloodshed. I will not stain my hands for you,” I hissed back.
Dark amusement glittered in his icy eyes. “All you Elessarum are fools. There is no escaping this holy war. Notuntil it is over and the Koron and Korona sit atop the thrones in Sivy and Uzhhorod.”
With that, he rose to his full height. His broad shoulders ate up all the space around me. In clean clothes, well-groomed, with posture straight enough to hold the weight of the world, he was imposing. Dangerous. Deadly.
Before I could register what was happening, he framed me with his muscled arms. Sank closer until his lips brushed the shell of my pointed ear. “Nor is there any escaping me. You are mine now, Sylaira.”
He retreated, taking the heat of his skin and the scent of stormwood with him. I could only blink as he strode for the half-open door. He slipped through it like a blade between ribs, and then shut it softly behind him.
Leaving me reeling amid the tempest of my emotions.
Especially as his claim on me whipped through my mind like a windstorm, lashing every fiber of my being. I hated it. Loathed him.
So why did my skin pebble and my low belly heat at the way my name rolled across his tongue?
Disgusted with myself, I sank back down, trying to make myself comfortable to rest again. He was right. He didn’t even need to tie me down again. There was no way I could escape him, not with the injury to my knee. Flying would only get me so far when his auravane was faster than I could ever dream to be.
Panic gripped me then, freezing the air in my lungs. I couldn’t run from him. Couldn’t sever this bond. Couldn’t stop my body from reacting to him.
There was one very, very real monster holding me hostage—in more ways than one. And I got the sense he’d never let me go.
20
“Put this on.” Yet another command from the Issaraeth, though this one didn’t strip my autonomy away with his magic.
Dragging my attention away from the window, I found him standing at my bedside, with what appeared to be a cloak rolled in his hand.
I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted a singular brow. “Why?”
His nostrils flared. “Because we’re leaving today. And since we’ll be traveling alone on the road, I need to keep you hidden.”
“Because you’re so in love with me that the mere thought of someone else glimpsing my stunning beauty will send you into a rage?” I taunted, sarcasm dripping from every word.
His expression remained cold and cruel, but our bond betrayed him as much as it betrayed me. Fury trickled down it, chilled and sharp, despite the wall he attempted to maintain.
It was reckless, really, acting this way. But what did I haveto lose? I’d likely never dance again. I was mated to a male I couldn’t have less in common with. And I was about to be plied with drugs, tied to a chair, and forced to See against my will.
So essentially, all my worst fears were coming true. All at the same time.
“Just shut the fuck up and do as you’re told,” he grumbled, dropping the fabric on the end of the bed. Then, he spun on his heel and stalked away. “We’re leaving in five minutes. If you’re not by the door then, I will throw you over my shoulder and deposit you in the cart like a sack of grain.”
He really knew how to romance me. I could almost picture our wedding, the pealing of bells, and the crowd cheering us on as we knelt before the Goddess and vowed to love one another until our last breaths.
A scoff slipped out of me at the mere notion.
Everyone else had such a glamorized view of mating bonds. If only they knew.
The chain in my chest snapped taut, nearly yanking me out of the bed itself, as the Issaraeth disappeared down the stairs.
“Fuck you,” I muttered to it, tugging the cloak toward me. I snapped it out, noting the fine fabric, and then fastened it around my shoulders. The hood was large enough that it covered the neat twist I’d secured on the crown of my head.
But before I reached for my crutches, I dug into the bind between my breasts and pulled out a few virelthorn leaves, popping them into my mouth. Without the healer’s constant presence, and with the Issaraeth’s clear intent to keep me away from others, there was no telling when I’d have another moment to chew them.
It wasn’t like I could wear bronze cuffs anymore to suppress my magic. No, I needed all the help I could get to heal.
