“Thou art truly awake this time,” he said, moving closer. His voice was deep, cultured, the old-fashioned phrasing marking him as traditionally educated as I had been by Papa. “I was beginning to fear thy mind had been lost to whatever kept thee in that cursed place.”
Memory flashed through me. This man kneeling beside me in the dungeon, lifting me from cold stone, carrying me away from where I needed to be even though I portested.
“You,” I whispered. “You took me from the castle.”
He smiled, and something in my stomach twisted. Not entirely unpleasantly. He was beautiful in the way dangerous thingsoften are. Sharp edges and perfect symmetry that warned rather than welcomed.
“I rescued thee,” he corrected, settling on the edge of my bed without asking permission. His weight made the mattress dip, sliding me slightly closer to him. “From a fate worse than death.”
I pulled back, putting as much distance between us as the bed would allow. “Who are you?”
“Forgive me.” He placed a hand over his heart, the gesture almost mocking in its formality given his disheveled appearance. “Prince Alain Legrand, at thy service. And thou art in Durand, the heart of my father’s kingdom and the last bastion against the corruption that plagues the borderlands.”
Durand. The word hit me like a physical blow. Of all the places in the world I could have been taken, this was the worst. The kingdom that had outlawed magic generations ago. The seat of power for those who would see me burned if they knew what flowed in my veins.
I had to get out of here. Now.
“I need to go back,” I said, pushing the covers aside. “Immediately.”
“Back?” His smile vanished, replaced by a frown that darkened his features. “Back to that dungeon? That place of suffering? Never.”
“You don’t understand.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, ignoring how the room spun around me at the movement. “I have to go back. It’s important.”
“The only important thing is thy recovery.” He reached for me, but I flinched away from his touch. “Whatever hold that place has on thy mind, I will break it. I swear it.”
“No one holds my mind,” I snapped, planting my feet on the cold floor. “But there are those who need me there.”
I stood—or tried to. My legs, unused to supporting even my diminished weight after so long lying on stone, buckledinstantly. The prince moved with surprising speed for such a large man, catching me before I could crumple to the floor.
His arms were strong around my waist, holding me upright with embarrassing ease. This close, I could smell him—leather and horses and something uniquely male that made my heart beat faster despite my anger. Why was I responding to him like this?
“Art thou trying to kill thyself?” he demanded, helping me back onto the bed. “Thou hast been at death’s door for a week. Thy body needs time to heal.”
A week. I’d been gone from the castle for a week. How much weaker had the connection to the princes grown in that time? How much more were they suffering because of my absence?
“My name,” I said, forcing the words through gritted teeth, “is Isabeau. Isabeau Dubois. And I need to return to where you found me.”
“Isabeau.” He said my name slowly, testing the feel of it on his tongue. His eyes never left mine, searching for something I couldn’t identify. “A beautiful name. But returning to that cursed place is not possible.”
“Why not?” I demanded, hating how weak I sounded, how my body betrayed me by trembling just from the effort of sitting upright. “It’s where I belong.”
“No one belongs in a cell, chained to a wall, starving to death,” he said, his voice hardening. “Whatever thou believe, whatever compels thee to return, it is not natural. It is the forest’s corruption speaking through thee, so I will fight against it’s pull for thee.”
“You know nothing about me,” I hissed, anger giving strength to my voice where my body had none. “Nothing about what I was doing there.”
“I know enough.” He rose, pacing the room with the restless energy of a caged predator. “I know that place is tainted by oldmagic. I know the creatures that dwell within its boundaries are twisted mockeries of nature. And I know that no human could survive what thou endured without some form of protection.”
He turned back to me, his blue eyes narrowed with suspicion that hadn’t been there before. “Why did thy eyes change color when I spoke of magic?”
I froze, heart hammering in my chest. Had they? Had my amber eyes—the eyes that matched the princes’, that marked me as different, as magical—betrayed me already?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, looking away.
“Thy eyes,” he insisted, moving closer again. “They flashed, just for a moment. Like flame behind amber.”
Shit. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, mind racing for some explanation he might believe. Before I could speak, he caught my chin with gentle fingers, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “But not human. Not entirely.”
