I grinned. Perhaps these Fantomes weren’t so strong after all.
All around us, the skeletons and scorpions kept up a chaos of battle. Rowan’s giant creatures chittered as their huge claws bit through bone. My ebony skeletons laughed as they sliced into their opponents. The Fantome’s silver skeletons gave as good as they got. Soon, all the skeletons had been pummeled into shards of bone that lay strewn across the laboratory floor. Rowan’s scorpions lay in pieces around us, dead. I tried to see through the cloud of dust and bone.
We’d survived, but what about the Fantomes? Had the paralytic spells worked?
It took a few seconds for the air to clear. When I could see again, there were six Fantomes standing by the smashed-in doorway. Moving in unison, they raised their left arms. All of their hands glowed blue with power. Not good.
Our paralytic spells had failed. The Tsar must have cast some serious protections on these mages. There was no question about it. I needed to launch a counterstrike.
I searched my soul for more magick. Casting the battle skeletons and paralytic orbs had drained me. Now, it would take a little bit to recharge. I looked over to Rowan. “Tell me you’re ready to cast.”
He shook his head and kept mumbling an incantation. Gods-damn it.
The Fantomes lowered their arms and set loose another spell. A crackling sound filled the air as hundreds of skeletal hands burst through the stone floor. Bits of gray rock shot out in every direction. These hands weren’t attached to any bodies. That didn’t make them any less dangerous than a full skeleton. I knew this spell, and it was bad news.
Skitter lancets.
A skitter was a skeletal hand that could crawl across a room in the blink of an eye. Every bone in this casting was razor-sharp. One skitter lancet could slice through virtually anything in its path, and hundreds were coming at me. Even worse, my protection spells were useless against these things. My heart sank to my toes.
The skitters crawled toward me at incredible speed. Their fingertips clicked against the rock floor. I pulled in magick, but it wasn’t enough. Gods-damn. I looked to Rowan. “I can’t cast yet.”
Please tell me you’re ready.
“I got you.” Rowan knelt down, set his hands on the floor, and whispered the end of an incantation. A thick coating of red scales spread out from his fingertips. The movement reminded me of ripples in a pond.
A protective skin. Yes.
The scales spread out over the mages and lancets, covering them all in a layer of red alligator-thick skin. Everything became frozen in place, both the Fantomes and the lancets. I had thought that impossible to do both, yet somehow, Rowan had managed it.
Or not.
The skitters wiggled under the alligator skin before bursting free. They tore through their scaled coverings and came after us once again, only faster this time.
At last, enough magick inhabited my soul once more. I was ready to cast. I spoke a new battle incantation at double-speed. Power glowed in my left hand. I set it loose. Blue mist shot across the floor, covering the biting hands.
After that, my bone melter spell went to work. The skitters twisted as they were reduced to small puddles of white goo. It was a beautiful sight.
My spell had worked.
Agony erupted in my ribs. I looked down at my right side. A lancet had burrowed into my rib cage. I hissed in a pained breath. Blood oozed across my torn dress. I gripped the skitter, tore it out of me, and tossed the skeletal hand onto the floor. Fresh waves of hurt burned through my chest and up my arm.
Rowan marched over to the skitter, stomped on the thing with his boot, and called out a single word. “Die!” His voice was laced with magick as the skitter got smashed into bits.
I fell forward onto my knees. What a relief.
Rowan knelt beside me, his eyes wide with concern. “Let me see your wound.”
“What about them?” I spoke the last word through gritted teeth. There was no need to say more. No question what “them” I meant here.
“I have the Fantomes encased in a Caster shell. They aren’t going anywhere for a while.” His voice gentled. “Show me your side.”
I lifted my arm and Rowan leaned in closer. My breath came in rough gasps. “How bad is it?”
Rowan gripped my wrist and turned it up. The skin there was sliced to ribbons from the skitter. Rowan met my gaze. Rage glimmered in his emerald eyes. “You’re too good for these people. I’m killing them. Now.”
“But there are paralytic spells…”
“And we both cast them already. They didn’t work. Right now, you need me to get you somewhere safe so I can heal this. Enough, Elea.” His eyes glistened. “Please.”
Blood dripped from my palm onto the ash-covered floor. Some of the last of my people. “Do it.”
“Good. It won’t take me a minute to finish them off.” Rowan rose and turned to face the Fantomes. The mages resembled six crimson-colored statues on the stone floor. Small puffs of ash drifted around them.
Rowan raised his right arm. The veins there glowed with red light.
“No!” A man’s voice sounded from behind us. Both Rowan and I turned to see the ghost of Quinn standing by the back wall. “We’ll do it.”
My brows lifted. “You’ll accept a partial possession?”
“Yes.” He gestured behind him, and five more spirits stepped out of the ashes. “I can’t stand by and watch some the last of our people die. You were right, Elea. We all deserve one last chance.” He focused on me, his transparent eyes still bright. “We’ll see what we can find out and report back.”
“Thank you.” Speaking only sent a fresh spike of agony into my side. “Be sure to—” I hissed in a pained breath.
Rowan held me closer. “Don’t speak. I know what you would order them.” He turned to Quinn. “Remember, erase all memory of us and this battle. They never saw Elea or me. And keep it to a partial possession. Do you understand?”
Quinn nodded, straightened his shoulders, and stepped into the first Fantome. The strangled sound of a scream rang through the air, followed by absolute quiet. My body became boneless with relief as I leaned into Rowan’s hold.
Quinn had done it. He’d possessed the first Fantome.
One by one, the other spirits stepped into the mages. More muffled cries sounded, followed by silence. When it was all done, Rowan raised his hand once more. “Release!”
The red scales that had covered the Fantomes vanished. The mages all blinked and looked around, like sleepwalkers awakening from a dream. None of them appeared to notice Rowan and me. Without another word, the Fantomes marched from the room.
I wanted to thank Quinn and Rowan, but the words stayed trapped in my throat. Pain burned through my body until it was all I could think about. My mind clouded over with agony, and the world faded into darkness.
21
In my dreams, I returned to the Zelle Cloister, the place where I’d trained to become a Grand Mistress Necromancer. It was nighttime, and I lay curled on my small cot in the far corner of the Sisters’ dorm. My thin blanket had frozen solid around me. Every inch of my body shivered from the cold.
I peeped over the edge of my bed. The long stone room lay empty. Where were all my Sisters? One by one, their beloved and wrinkled faces seemed to smile at me from the shadows. How I longed to see them again. Sadly, every time I thought I caught their eye, they’d completely disappear. My heart cracked with grief. The silence turned so absolute my ears began to ring.
I’d never felt more alone.
A dream version of Rowan materialized at my bedside. Despite the dim light, I could clearly make out his tall frame, loose brown hair, and bare chest. He wore his leather pants and nothing else. I reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Cold,” I whispered.
“I don’t understand.” His voice was a gentle rumble. “I cast a spell to keep you warm.” He sat down beside me and pulled up my thin blanket. “Your wound doesn’t look infected, either.”
My t
eeth chattered harder as I pulled him toward me. “Cold!”
Rowan’s rugged features turned unreadable. “You want me to sleep with you?”
I moved back and made room for him. In some corner of my mind, I thought I should worry about the other Sisters. What if they showed up to see a stranger here? Then, I thought better of it.
Let them find their own man to warm their bed.
I patted the open stretch of bed beside me. There was a long speech I wanted to say—something about mages protecting each other—but my dream wouldn’t let me get it out. Instead, I could only repeat one word. “Cold.”
Rowan gave me one of his crooked smiles, and I knew I’d won. He slipped into the cot and pulled me against his side. Cuddling against him, I discovered something very important. Rowan’s body was the most comfortable place ever. My entire being filled with warmth and contentment.
What a lovely dream.
I opened my eyes to find the familiar lines of my tavern room. My sleepy thoughts slowly adjusted to my surroundings. Everything was as it should be.
Threadbare rug.
Shabby wooden door.
Small table with a pitcher and washbasin.
And an unclothed man in my bed.
Wait. What?
I raised my head for a better view. Indeed, it was true. My cheek was resting on a wide, bare, and very male chest. Shock vibrated down my spine. This wasn’t just any naked man, either.
It was Rowan.
In my tavern room.
Wearing naught but his leather pants.
I sat bolt upright. “What are you doing here?”
“She speaks.” Rowan grinned, stretched, and laced his fingers behind his head. The movement highlighted the heavy ropes of muscle that wound along his arms. My stomach fell to my toes. This was bad. Had I gone on some kind of drinking bender and forgotten? No, I never took spirits. Perhaps I was still asleep.
A dream. That was all this was. I simply needed to wake up.
Easy enough.
I pinched my forearm, hard. Pain shot across my skin. Rowan didn’t disappear. I pinched myself again. “Ouch.”
Rowan frowned, yet there was plenty of humor in his expression. “Why are you doing that, exactly?”
“Because I’m really asleep.” So I pinched myself again. And it hurt again.
This was worse than bad. It was a disaster.
Rowan chuckled. “No, Elea. You’re definitely awake. What’s more, you’re now speaking in full sentences. I consider that great progress.” He shifted his gaze to the window above my bed. A full moon shone through the mottled glass. “And it isn’t even morning yet. You slept for about ten hours.”
“What are you doing here?” I bit my lower lip softly. That hurt, too.
Still awake.
“What’s the last thing that you remember?” Rowan shifted position, and the play of muscles across his chest was nothing less than mouthwatering. I hated to admit this, even to myself, but I’d spent a lot of time thinking about this very situation. Only, in my fantasies I actually knew how Rowan had ended up in my bed. Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you hear me?”
Focus, Elea.
No more ogling handsome mages that you’re somewhat obsessed with. There are far more important things to contemplate. A weight settled onto my shoulders as I remembered what those things were.
Veronique. Ada. Thousands of other Necromancers. All dead.
A knot of grief tightened around my throat. “The last thing I remember, we found a wall of ashes. Most of my people are—” I blinked hard as more memories appeared. “Not all of them are dead. Ada and Veronique may still be somewhere on Royal lands. A few dozen Fantomes remain.” I hunched forward and hugged my elbows. “We fought some of them.”
“That’s right. What else do you remember?” Rowan sat up and began rubbing my back in a gentle rhythm. It helped.
“There were lancets. One touched me.” More than touched, actually.
Harsh memories appeared. I pictured the skeletal hand inside my rib cage. Blood was everywhere. Twisting, I hitched up the fabric of my nightshirt until it came just above my waistline.
My eyes widened as I realized what I’d done. Without so much as a second thought, I’d lifted my shirt before Rowan. Surely, I was still exhausted from my battle with the Fantomes. It wasn’t that I was getting more comfortable around Rowan.
An angry red mark colored my skin where the lancet had attacked. Other than that, I appeared to be perfectly fine. There was only one mage who could do something like that. I looked to Rowan. “Thank you for healing me.”
He exhaled a slow breath. “You passed out after the battle. I had my people sneak you off the mansion grounds and bring you here.”
My eyes widened. “I dreamed that I had returned to the Cloister dormitory. It was so cold. You walked in and—” I winced. “That wasn’t a dream, was it? I basically dragged you into bed, didn’t I?”
“I’m not complaining.” A mischievous gleam settled into his emerald eyes. “I didn’t mind helping you be comfortable.” He leaned in closer until our foreheads touched. “There was so much blood.” His deep voice rattled with fear. “Scared me half to death.”
“You?” I always thought of Rowan as the one person who was impossible to frighten. Even when I was dying in the cave after escaping the Midnight Cloister, he never showed any fear.
“Yes, me.” Rowan leaned back and cupped my face in his hands. His skin was so warm against mine. “The thought of losing you terrifies me, Elea. You’re so strong, in every way. My soul is so much more grounded when I’m around you. For once, I can see something in the future that’s mine and beautiful.”
“So everything you do is for others. Has it always been like that?” I didn’t add the words to be a member of the Imperial family. We’d been finishing each other’s thoughts for a while now.
“My life isn’t my own.” Rowan dropped his hands and leaned back against the headboard. “I live for my people. Always have. You can’t imagine how much I want something that’s mine.” His gaze intensified. “My existence isn’t complete without you.”
My chest warmed at his words. Rowan was sharing a part of his soul with me, and I wanted to give him something in return. “From the first time I saw you, I felt drawn to your strength.”
Rowan raised his brows. “You mean, when I yelled at you in the desert?”
“No, before that. I saw you in a vision. You were calling to the Sire of Souls for help.”
“Ah.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you think the Sire and Lady have something to do with us?”
I chuckled. “I think they have far better things to worry about.”
Rowan shook his head. “You have no idea how exceptional you are, do you?”
A blush bloomed along my neck. How I hated this kind of attention. My old Mother Superior always said I was a strong mage. But with so many of my Brothers and Sisters gone, who was to say what was truly exceptional? I fiddled with the neckline of my nightshirt, anxious for a change of subject. “How did I get changed into this?”
“I gave the job to one of the female guards.”
My blush deepened. “Not you?”
A hungry look shone in his eyes. “Would you have wanted me to?”
For a moment, panic shot through my body. Yes, I’d wanted to change the subject, but did I really mean to veer it into the territory of Rowan seeing me naked?
The answer rang through every corner of my consciousness.
Yes, yes I did.
Some small part of me screamed that I was giving in to my impulsive nature. This was a classic act of a Necromancer who was zuchtlos and out of control.
Most of me didn’t care.
“Yes, I would have wanted you to.” I swallowed hard. “I still do.”
Rowan sat back up, closing the distance between us. “Show me.”
His voice had a rough edge, and it made my mind unhinge. My zuchtlos nature grew stronger. In one swift movement, I grip
ped the edge of my nightshirt, pulled it over my head, and tossed it aside. The coverlet lay loose around my waist, and my long black hair hung over my breasts. My cotton pantalets were the only thing I wore now. My Necromancer side made one last attempt to bring me under control. The words of my training mantra rang through my mind.
You should ashamed of your weakness.
You should always be modest.
You should never be attracted to a man.
And maybe the training was right, yet I didn’t care anymore. All I wanted was Rowan. Now, he knew that without question.
Desire burned in Rowan’s green eyes. Slowly, he reached forward. His fingertips softly brushed against my cheek. After that, his gentle touch ran down my neck. Everywhere he touched, he left behind a line of heat. My core tightened. I might be a virgin, yet ever since I’d met Rowan, thoughts of his body had haunted me. Making love with him had always seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re so beautiful.” Rowan slowly ran his hand across my shoulder. He guided my hair so it hung down my back and exposed my right breast. My nipple puckered with cold. Rowan watched the change; his gaze darkened with want. I loved it. “By the Gods, Elea.” Suddenly, Rowan’s mouth was on mine. His lips were everything soft and delicious. Our tongues slid across each other in a luscious dance that set my heart pounding.
Our kiss turned fierce. Instinct took over. I didn’t know who shifted, but soon I was on my back with Rowan braced above me. Our mouths tangled in a deepening kiss while his hard length pressed against me. Only a thin layer of leather and cotton separated us. I reached down his chest, greedily soaking in the feel of his velvet-soft skin over firm muscle. My fingertips played along the waistband of his leathers.
Rowan stilled. “What are we doing?”
“I want this. I want you.”
He slowly shook his head. “I can’t. Not here. Not yet.” He slipped off me and rose to stand. “I still have duties, Elea.”
I sat up and clutched the sheet against my naked torso. The haze of lust left my mind. What just happened? I threw myself at Rowan, and now he was walking away.
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