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Dulsa’s eyes crinkled, and I offered an apologetic smile.

“I’ll go fetch you some food,” Dulsa said, rising to her feet.

“Wait! Is Alaric—” I couldn’t bring myself to finish. Was he all right? Did he make it to his trial on time? Had the council determined his fate?

Dulsa’s expression sobered. “I will send word to see what I can find out.”

I nodded, biting down on my lower lip. “Thank you.”

Dulsa swept from the room, leaving me alone with my panicked thoughts. What if he’d been late because of me? What if I’d accidentally injured him with my near-rupture?

What if this incident only made things worse for him? I could imagine the chiefs and nobles would not be pleased to learn Alaric had been helping me… again. I had only been a Mage for a few days, and I had almost ruptured. I was a disgrace.

I closed my eyes, my expression crumpling.

Sasha had killed Elvira.

But she had done it for me. Elvira had been about to turn me over to the witch clan so they could perform the same spell Geraldine had tried to use on me. I would have died.

Alaric was right. It was unfair of me to judge Sasha so harshly for what she’d done. Not when I’d forgiven him for his actions.

“Sasha?” I asked tentatively.

No answer.

I tried not to let this worry me. Alaric had said the best way for a wolf to heal was for the human to take over. She was likely still recovering.

Besides, Dulsa was taking care of us. If anyone could heal my wolf, it was her.

Footsteps approached from down the hall, and I forced myself to sit up. Eating while lying down would only result in me dribbling food all over myself.

But the figure who appeared in the doorway was not Dulsa, but a male Mage with bronze skin and short, gray hair. Several strands of beads were around his neck, and his golden eyes glittered when they landed on me.

“You must be Cerise.” His voice was a smooth drawl, and it made my skin prickle with unease.

I stared at him through narrowed eyes, my hands curling into fists on my lap. My head was still foggy, but I couldn’t let him know that. “What do you want?” I demanded.

“Do you know who I am?” asked the Mage, moving closer to me. I wanted to stand and put distance between us, but I feared I was still too weak.

The last thing I needed was to fall on my face in front of this threatening stranger.

My eyes fell to the beads around his neck. “One of the chiefs, I’d wager.”

He chuckled. “Smart girl. But I’m not just any chief—I’m the senior chief. I hold the most authority.” He ran an idle finger over a dusty table against the wall as he drew nearer to me. “After King Nolan died, I should have been the one to take his place.”

I stiffened, my blood chilling at the lethal expression on his face. “You’re Chief Gorem.”

This was the bastard who had worked with Elvira. He had killed the Mage King. He wanted to close the portal, cutting off the Isle from the fae lands for good.

Gorem gave me a sly smile. “Right again. I had hoped that, in eliminating Nolan and deposing Alaric, the throne would be mine. But there was one obstacle I hadn’t foreseen.” His eyes shone with malice. “You.”

On shaky legs, I rose to my feet, trying to ignore the haze clouding my mind.

He’s a killer, I reminded myself. And you’re weak. How can you get out of this alive?

Gorem took another step. I gripped the table of potion ingredients for support as I edged away from him.

I couldn’t shift, not when Sasha was still healing. Was I strong enough to use my magic? As soon as I tried, he would know. He would attack me without thought.