Page 36 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

He couldn’t let this happen. To either of them.

Emon pressed his lips to Trish’s forehead, using his magic to push her into an even deeper sleep. Then he got up quietly, tucked the blanket gently around her, and left.

The lightning flickered out.

He went down the steps and looked into his room, but Tristan and Mayah were both gone, along with the bloodstained towels. Nothing to show that a bleeding, half-dead wolf had ever been here.

Now, where the hell had they gone?

He checked Mayah’s room, expecting to find it dim and shuttered as usual. To his surprise, the windows were open, letting in light and fresh air, and Mayah was in front of the long mirror, piling her hair on top of her head and turning this way and that to see how it looked.

Instead of the drab baggy clothes she usually wore, she had on snug jeans and a top with a peacock feather design. Three or four discarded outfits were scattered on the bed, which had been made.

For the first time in months.

Emon felt equal parts pleased and disturbed. Pleased that she seemed to be taking an interest in life—and her appearance.

Disturbed because he was getting an inkling as to why.

Emon said, “Where’s the languishing Elf Lord?”

Mayah rolled her eyes at him in the mirror. “Could you say that a little louder? I think only half the castle heard you.”

Emon grimaced. “There’s no one around. And they wouldn’t know who I meant anyway.” But he came inside and shut the door.

Mayah found a style she seemed to like and began pinning her hair up. “I put him in one of the unused bedrooms on the third floor. No one ever goes there. I left a message for the healing team that I’d told Tristan I decided to take a day off from treatment, so he went for a run as a wolf.”

“Not a bad story,” Emon acknowledged. “Is he okay?”

Mayah nodded. “Everything’s healing up. He should be able to come out by tomorrow. Tonight, if he doesn’t get too close to people.”

Emon nodded, relief spreading through him. Trish would be safe. No one would find out what she’d done.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, tugging on one of the wavy strands of hair Mayah was pulling out of her hairdo to frame her face. “You look better than I expected. That was a pretty big healing you did last night, and you’re not used to it.”

In fact, she looked fantastic. Color in her cheeks, and eyes sparkling. Again, those twin spears of happiness and disquiet pricked at him.

“Fine,” she said. “Physically it was tiring, but…” She turned to face him. “Emon, you have no idea how wonderful it was to do something useful for a change. Instead of being the crazy one, everyone tiptoeing around me and telling me not to exert myself.”

“It suits you,” he admitted. “Maybe the treatments are working better than we thought, even with the relapses.”

She shook her head. “I’d like to think so,” she said. “But the nightmares I’ve been getting, the visions, they’re so strange—and they come on so suddenly. They’re different from before. You know—after we first got away from Ragnor.”

That got his full attention. “Different how?”

Mayah sat down on the bed. Emon shoved a pile of clothes out of the way and sat down next to her. She said, “It’s hard to explain. After Ragnor died, I still had nightmares about being in his lab. And I heard voices—people calling out to me. Like souls stuck in hell.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and rubbed her upper arm. She leaned against him.

“These are more—psychedelic. Like some of the very first times when Ragnor had me in the lab. Everything’s distorted, and the voices are so loud and I can see the souls that are calling out to me, but none of it’s realistic. The people and things I see are strange colors, or they’re all pushed out of shape, or I see things that don’t exist, like pink-spotted wolves, or flying raka.”

“And you never saw things like that before?”

“Like I said, I sometimes did when Ragnor was first experimenting on me. But this is even different from that. After the weird stuff, everything turns dark and scary and horrible.” Mayah gazed into the distance. “I’m surrounded by demons screaming at me, or swarms of bugs that can bite through my scales and they’re devouring me…”

She shivered.

Emon pulled her into a hug. “Sorry,” he said, resting his chin on her head. “I didn’t mean to bring it all back. Especially when you were feeling happy.”