“Romas Harper. It’s been a long while.” As he spoke, the energies around them—one of them being Kascien’s signature—burst like flames to gasoline. Wylde pulled her arms close to her body, sending off a quick Vanlan prayer for his safety. For his victory.
The Mage’s eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed in a scowl. “I thought you were dead, old man.”
Castor smiled. “I am dead…to our dear Sovereign. I outwitted him and escaped and oh, how he hates that. You know how he is.” He gave a low chuckle, but sobered quickly. His voice softened. “You’ve picked the right path, Romas.”
“Oh, can it,” Romas snapped. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my brother, who’s trapped in the Hall of the Forlorn. His last request was that I help Kascien…and Kascien’s last request was for me to help you. Why he’d come back when he has no chance of winning…”
Wylde growled at him. “Kascien will beat that bastard.”
“Oh, I hope he does. I fear for our lives if he fails.” He shook his head and motioned to the cage. “You might want to move before someone realizes that we’re stealing precious property. That’s a torture-and-death sentence.”
She slowly slid her blade into its scabbard and stepped to the side. Romas took a deep breath, ran both hands through his hair in an ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this’ manner, and then placed his palm against a scanner with a blinking red light. It beeped, clicked, and then the light flashed green and the door unlatched. The metal bars slid to the side and both dragons regarded their unlikely savior with wide eyes.
“Don’t just stand there. Hurry,” Romas commanded, taking off at a brisk pace. The Jirians glanced between one another, reproachful grumbles erupting around them. Wylde sought out Castor only to find him smiling, so she patted Neeve on the shoulder.
“We’re almost there, little one. Let’s get you guys home. Stay close.” She willed her armor of scales to slip across her body, just in case they walked headlong into a trap. To her surprise, Yuri lifted a hand and the remaining Wyverns in the group pulled on their second skin as well, claws tipping their fingers. They moved quickly, quietly down the winding halls. Neeve hiccupped and bumped against Wylde’s shoulder and Wylde focused on sending her calming thoughts.
“Jaovari is worried sick about you,” she whispered as they turned a corner.
Neeve’s eyes lit up, a glimpse of her usual bubbly self. “Really?”
“Really. She’ll be so happy to see you.”
Wylde glanced up as magic hissed in the air. She heard a shout, then watched as three Magi flew across the room and slammed into the wall, hard enough that bone cracked. Romas scowled and quickly drew a Portal; it was big, but the dragons would still have to duck to get through. He stepped to the side.
“This will take you to the very edge of Qwirek. I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side, so I’d suggest taking flight as soon as you get through.”
Wylde turned to face her people, pulling herself up straight. “Ileen, Neeve. You heard him. As soon as you get outside, fly. Head for the keep and don’t stop, no matter what you see or hear.” The thought of the Wyvern mutants that had bombarded them in the desert made Wylde shudder.
She looked at the rogues and took a deep breath. This was asking a lot, but... “All of you were a part of the Kiir’vanan at one point or another; I want you to make sure the dragons get back safely. Please. I know you don’t have to, but I’d appreciate if you’d do what you have to do to protect them.”
Yuri bounded to the front of the group. She looked at Wylde for less than a second, and then she turned to her people and repeated Wylde’s request in a command that left no room for hesitation. “You heard her. We’re getting these dragons home. And then?” The rogue leader met Wylde’s eyes.
“We’ll meet back up at the Jiria camp,” Wylde said, and Yuri nodded. Wylde reached for her, drawing her back. “Yuri? Thank you. I know that I don’t mean anything to you, but…”
The woman smirked. “Kascien is one of us. And if you’re his chosen mate…well.” She chuckled as Wylde blushed. “I guess that means you’re ours too, for better or worse. Make sure he gets home safely, princess.” Then, with a nod and a dragon’s cry, she burst through the Portal.
Wylde’s heart lifted as she touched Neeve’s shoulder. “Watch out for Ileen. Make sure he doesn’t get lost,” she said with a conspiratorial smile. Neeve giggled and nodded and Ileen rolled his eyes. They ducked under the mouth of the Portal and with a shimmer, they were gone. Mackie and several other Wyverns flew through after them. Bluff hesitated, but Wylde shooed him on, and then he was gone too.
She looked to Romas. “You’re coming, right?”
He shook his head. “My work here is done. Unfortunately for me, I’ll be joining my brother in the Hall of the Forlorn shortly.” His grin was humorless as he motioned to the slowly closing Portal. “Better follow your people, princess.”
She shook her head. “I’m not leaving without Kascien.” Her heart skipped a beat when Kascien’s signature dipped, then soared even stronger. She could feel the clash of magic in the air, even if the fight was miles away.
“I’m sorry, but that’s foolish. Kascien might be strong, but the Sovereign has years of magic on the boy. There’s no way that he’ll—” Romas broke off, because in that moment, the Sovereign’s magic plummeted.
Wylde’s heart picked up, flying into her throat, only to choke her as Kascien’s signature dropped, lower and lower, quickly fading until she could no longer even feel it whispering along her fingertips. No. No. No. Her world spun in contorted, tortuous circles.
“No!” He couldn’t lose. He couldn’t die! Panic clawed up her throat and she turned to Romas, tears burning her eyes. “Please. Take me to them!” She grabbed the front of his jacket, clinging to him.
The Mage looked shocked, but shook his head and used both hands to pry her off, as if she were an annoying child. His voice was surprisingly soft. “I told Kascien I’d get you out safely. Go through the damn Portal so I didn’t lie to him.”
“No, please. You don’t understand! I can’t just…I can’t leave him behind!”
“I can’t let you go back!”
“I have to! I love him!” Her voice was raw with a scream. Tears burst through the dam that was her emotional wall and sobs shook her body, rocking through it wildly. She clasped her hands together, praying to the Goddess above that he was still alive. “Please. Haven’t you ever loved anyone before?”
He jerked out of reach, his dark eyes icing over with a layer of frost, but he snorted. “Your funeral.” He closed the first Portal with a touch of his fingers and drew a second. “Enter at your own risk,” he muttered, but Wylde was already through, blade ready despite the blur of tears in her eyes. She would fight the bastard who’d hurt him, possibly killed him, and she’d feel no remorse.
Oh…Goddess. She jerked to a stop at the scent of blood, thick and heady, nearly suffocating her. She gasped back a sob and pulled her shirt over her nose, trying to breathe easier. Then she saw them.
Both men lay face down in a growing pool of blood, their skin and clothes soaked with muddy darkness.
“Kascien!” She took off, running and slipping across the slick tile. She dropped to her knees beside Kascien, her body overtaken with shakes as she reached for him. Afraid of what she’d feel. Afraid that those beautiful eyes would never open again.
Her fingers brushed his hand, still warm and sticky with crimson. Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw the bruising red lines wrapped around Kascien’s neck, like vines had encircled his throat and cut off his air. Her vision blurred and she tentatively touched his throat.
Her heart jumped as his pulse thumped slowly but steadily beneath her fingers. She blinked back tears and focused, watching as his chest rose and fell with even breaths. Alive. Alive. Thank you, Goddess.
Both hands wrapped around Kascien’s fingers, squeezing. She willed energy through her palms, into him, as she chanted
the prayer she’d been taught when her mother had died. Slowly, his pale cheeks took on a pink tint as life filled him. “Thank you,” she whispered. Thank you, thank you…
“I can’t believe it.” Wylde’s gaze snapped up to see Romas kneeling beside the Sovereign, one limp wrist in his hand. “That bastard really did it. He really won…” He sounded incredulous. “Vik was right. Damn, brother.”
“He’s dead?” But one look at the fallen Sovereign answered Wylde’s question. Across his throat was a clean slice, Irianthe having given a final blow before she lay useless on the tile. Wylde reached for the sacred blade, wiping her clean with the tail of her shirt before sliding Irianthe into her belt.
“As a doornail.” A pause, then: “Good riddance. Fucking bastard.” Romas stood and kicked the dead man in the ribs and Wylde winced as bones cracked inwards. She met the Mage’s gaze to find it relieved. He shook his head. “We’ll take care of Kascien now, I assure you. You can head back with your dragons.”
“What?” She froze, deer-in-the-headlights style. Romas stared at her blankly, so she pressed on. “What do you mean?”
The man’s lip twitched up at one corner. “He won the duel, fair and square. Kascien is now the reigning Sovereign.”
Her heartbeat faltered and she gazed down at Kascien’s fingers, entwined with hers. He’d won. He’d defeated that cruel man…and now he was destined to take his place? He wouldn’t want that. Goddess. She swallowed emotion back, shaking her head slowly. “I…don’t…”
Romas brushed her off. “We can deal with this later. Right now, it’s important that we get Kascien admitted to our hospice wing, so he can begin to recover.” He bent down and picked Kascien up, folding the boy to his chest as if he were an adored child.
Wylde fought to breathe as Romas began to walk away. No. She wouldn’t let it end this way. She wouldn’t let the Magi take him from her. She scrambled to her feet and raced after him. “I’m not leaving.”
“Suit yourself.”
Her nerves spreading like a wildfire, she followed him back through the corridors of Esperidion. People glanced their way, whispers riding on the air about the wild Wyvern girl daring to brave their halls, but Wylde tuned them out. Her gaze was locked onto the unconscious boy in Romas’s arms.
Kascien was a Mage. Maybe this was his place. Maybe this was where he belonged, among his own people. How could he have gone from powerless slave to the Sovereign of the Magi in such a short amount of time? Damnit, she’d just started to love him and now he was being torn away from her? It felt like they were stripping out pieces of her soul.
She watched as Romas handed him over to a couple of nurses, who cleaned him up and got him situated in chamber-like bed with plush blankets. His dark hair fanned around his face like a halo. The lid of the chamber slowly closed and Wylde worried that he’d suffocate.
Romas placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t turn to look at him. “He’ll be fine. I promise, princess.”
“I’m staying here,” Wylde said softly. Her legs trembled with weakness, but she wasn’t going to budge an inch. Not until she saw him smile again.
And if he chose to stay here…
She’d have to leave him behind.
Chapter Twenty-Two
His dreams were peaceful things. He was soaring through the skies, the clouds plush and white all around him. The summer wind smelled of sandalwood and brushed through his hair as his wings carried on the wind. His tail arced behind him and every movement was perfect, beautiful, effortless. No worries, no stress… Just him and the wind.
There was a soft shrill and Kascien tilted his head to the side. He saw her dive towards him, an impish grin on her face, her hair a full mane of black curls, whipping around in the wind. She laughed, melodious, husky bells, and he couldn’t stop the grin from soaring across his lips.
“I love you!” he yelled against the breeze, his words carried away. She smiled, as if she already knew this, as she brushed her wing against his. Sparks flitted across his vision and he was filled to the brim with such happiness. His heart lifted and soared, as if it’d grown wings of its own. Even as the dream faded into bright-white nothingness, he still smiled.
And then he woke up.
His eyes fluttered open and he took a breath, testing. The air was crisp and pure, the walls surrounding him as white as the clouds in his dream. He felt no pain, no lingering ache from where the Sovereign’s magic had strangled him. He slowly moved his arm out from under a light blanket, feeling along his neck. Nothing. Not even a dull throb.
Lucky him, he was dead.
He slowly sat up, waiting for the reality to crash into him. He felt too damn good to have just survived a battle with the Sovereign. His head didn’t spin, his world didn’t come crashing to a halt. Just this: The throb of his heart, aching gently with the knowledge of his loss. But what was done was done. Was this room some sort of waiting area, a lobby to the Afterlife? Or had he burned so many drakehound souls that he would be sent straight down to Hell?
Kascien jerked as the wall split apart, forming a doorway, and his heart clubbed painfully in his ears as Wylde—his Wylde—burst through. No… Was she dead too? Or was this just another dream?
“Kascien.” Her voice was breathy as she reached his bedside, tentative. She looked him up and down and he frowned.
“Am I dead?”
Wylde’s hands formed quick fists at her sides, and before Kascien could blink, she slapped him across the cheek. It echoed through the room and he gaped up at her. What the hell—wait. He touched his cheek, which was still smarting. Pain. He could feel pain!
“I thought you were, you jerk!” She bunched her shoulders and Kascien looked up at her. Her eyes were clouded with worry and tears and Kascien couldn’t help it; a soft laugh erupted from his throat. Wylde looked startled for a moment, then angry. “It’s not—”
Kascien reached up with both hands and grabbed her wrists, pulling her flush against him. Before she could say another word, he stole a kiss, desperate and excited and filled with need. “God, I thought I’d lost you,” he managed to say. She hiccupped out a small sob, wrapping both arms around him, and he held on as tight as he could.
They rocked back and forth until Wylde’s shoulders stopped trembling. She pulled away. She swiped at her tear-streaked face with both hands, suddenly self-conscious, and Kascien’s fingers clasped around her wrists. He placed a gentle kiss against one salt-damp eyelid, then the other, kissing her tears away. “I love you.”
Sunlight burst through storm clouds with her smile. She nodded and flicked him on the nose. “I love you, too, but you’re still a jerk. I thought… All the blood and…” She shook her head, taking a deep breath. “You’re really okay?”
“I feel amazing,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “But…where are we?”
“Esperidion. Kascien…you won the duel. You killed the Sovereign.”
“Yeah, that I can vaguely remember. So what now?”
“You’re the king of the Magi.” Her voice was tiny and his heart bottomed out.
What? No. How could they expect a boy they’d kept as a pet slave to be their new and improved leader? He frowned, shaking his head, and tossed the blankets back to get up. He surged to his feet, feeling his power coil inside of him, replenished and ready to work for him again.
“Kascien, where are you—”
“I can’t. I can’t do this. I don’t belong here,” he barked, fear rising up in his chest. He found his clothes neatly folded on top of a white dresser and turned his back to Wylde, hauling on his ratty jeans. His arms trembled as he pulled his shirt over his head and ran both hands through his mop of dish-water brown hair. “Come on.”
“Kass, wait...” But he didn’t hear her; he was already through the door, reaching into his pockets only to remember he’d given his Portal chalk away. He let out a string of curses, nerves dancing along his skin, spiking the power in his veins. God, he just… He had to get out of here. He
needed air.
He slammed headlong into someone, bouncing off and hitting the ground hard enough to bruise his tailbone. “What the hell?” He glared up into the somewhat-annoyed face of Romas and he froze.
It all came flooding back.
Vik was his father. Which meant Romas was his uncle… The man who had practically given him hell his entire life. Did Romas know? Was that why he’d always hated him so much?
“Kascien, where are you going?”
“I’m leaving.” He hauled himself to his feet, but Romas’s hand on his shoulder kept him anchored to the ground.
“You can’t just leave.”
Kascien let loose a rippling growl. He felt Wylde at his elbow. “I am not your Sovereign. I’m no one’s leader, king, master, what-the-hell-ever you wanna call it. I refuse!” Hysteria colored his voice, making it hitch into his throat, tinny and small.
“You won the duel. You won the crown.”
“Well then give it to someone else. I don’t want it.”
Romas sighed heavily, then squeezed Kascien’s shoulder in a display of almost…affection, coming from that man. “There’s something you need to see. Come along.” He took off at a brisk clip down the hall, expecting them to follow.
Kascien glanced to Wylde. She smiled and reached for his hand. God, he hated this feeling. He gripped Wylde’s hand tightly, their fingers laced together, as they hurried after the Mage.
As soon as Kascien set foot in the dimly lit hallway, the lights buzzing and flickering on and off, he knew where they were going. He picked up speed, pulling Wylde along after him. They reached the Hall of the Forlorn, the stone and glass cells of slave upon slave who had lost their freedom, all because of one man.
Kascien’s eyes settled on Vik, dirty and bruised. The man leaned against the wall, looking like he could use a shower and a full night’s rest. And then his heart jumped, remembering so vividly the old man who’d slammed up against the glass only weeks ago, begging him for help. The man with the crystalline green eyes.
Spellbound Page 21
