The vampire.
"Please, she's getting agitated." The healer's voice lowers as she speaks, heavy with concern. "Her heartbeat is elevated and she won't see anyone else. We're worried the stress might undo the healing progress."
The bond flares with urgency. My mate is distressed.
But this is it. The opportunity I've been waiting for. She'll be alone and vulnerable. I could end this now. One quick strike and return to Eirik with proof of my loyalty. My warriors would be safe.
"I'll go," I say, standing and brushing dirt from my clothes.
The healer bows slightly and turns back toward the healing house. I follow silently behind her.
The vampire is somewhere in this building. I can feel the weight of his presence pressing against my awareness. He's watching, waiting for me to make one wrong move—ready to tear me apart if I step out of line or reveal the truth he's demanded I keep.
He doesn't know what I'm actually planning.
I'm going to kill his wife.
The bond tugs insistently now, pulling me forward like a leash.
The healer pauses outside an ornate door carved with runes of healing. "Be gentle with her. She's still fragile, even if she seems strong."
Fragile.
The word doesn't fit the elven queen who infiltrated the fae kingdom wearing an enchanted mask.
"She's inside," the healer says. "I'll leave you to it."
She hurries away before I can thank her. Probably doesn't want to be near the dangerous fae any longer than necessary.
I stand outside the door for a long moment. My hand hovers over the handle. On the other side is my mate, the one fate has chosen for me. The enemy I'm supposed to kill.
I push the door open and step inside.
The room has shrunksince I was last here. Candles burn in glass holders, their flames steady and calm. Someone has brought fresh linens, a pitcher of water, and a small arrangement of white flowers.
I see Rhianelle and my breath catches despite myself.
She's propped against the headboard, a simple nightgown loose at her shoulders. Her skin has regained some color since I first saw her.
Those lilac eyes turn to me as I enter. The bond sings between us immediately, a chord that resonates in my chest. She feels it too. I watch her eyes widen slightly, her hand moving to her chest as if she can touch the bond.
"Landon," she says. My name in her voice does something dangerous to my heart. "You came."
"You asked for me." I close the door behind me, suddenly very aware that we're alone. "How could I refuse?"
Her smile is soft. "You could have. I'm not your queen. I have no authority over you."
"No, but you're my patient," I say, moving closer. "That gives you certain rights to demand my presence."
I settle into the chair beside her bed, the same one I occupied earlier when checking her vitals.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, falling back on my role as her healer.
"Alive, thanks to you." She studies my face with those extraordinary eyes and I have to look away. "Better than I should be, from what I understand. The healers said I was dying."
"The transfusion helped," I say carefully. "Fresh blood from a compatible donor made the difference."
It's not entirely a lie. Hrolf's blood did help initially. I just don't mention that the real reason she's recovering is the golden threads connecting us.
