by Jasmine Walt
Drystan whirled around, rage blazing in his eyes. “If the dragon god is so keen on seeing us married,” he said, “then perhaps he should tell our mate to stop acting like a bloody shrew. I have far too much to deal with already. I will not stand by while she continues to bombard us with insults.”
Alistair sighed as Drystan stalked to his bedroom and slammed the door so hard the wood splintered. Glancing back at Dareena’s bedroom, Alistair wondered if their mate had heard the argument.
It doesn’t matter, he thought as he went to his own bedroom. Dareena was under some sort of spell, he was almost certain of it. He only hoped it was in the oracle’s power to find and destroy it before Drystan reached the end of his rope, and Dareena said or did something that none of them would be able to come back from.
The thought kept Alistair up late that night, and by the time he fell asleep, dawn crested the horizon. He only allowed himself a few hours before he rose for the day, then grabbed a quick bite before flying to the temple. Dareena and Drystan were both fast asleep when he left, and he hoped the two would avoid each other until he came back.
When he reached the temple and spoke with Rofana, she was very concerned. “This is very strange behavior indeed, especially from the Dragon’s Gift,” she said. “I have been doing some reading in the archives, and the bond between the Dragon’s Gift and her mates is one of both deep love and loyalty. The dragon god made sure of this so that the two might never be separated, and the king would always protect his Gift and cherish her as she deserves. But the bond goes both ways, which makes it impossible for Dareena to truly feel as she has been saying.”
Alistair nodded, relieved. “So it is certain that something is wrong with her then. But how are we to fix it?”
“Before I left, Dareena and I talked of a purification ritual that can be used to cleanse a place of hostile magic,” Rofana said. “I promised to study the ritual and gather the necessary items and ingredients, but I have not had time.” She frowned, a thoughtful look on her face. “Perhaps if you could help me procure them…”
“Of course,” Alistair said. “It would be much faster if we flew.”
“Bring me to Paxhall, and let me take it from there,” she said. “It is unwise to leave Dareena alone, especially if she is being targeted as we fear. You must return to her side immediately.”
“Right.” Alistair’s insides twisted with guilt. “I feel terrible about leaving her to begin with. I hope she and Drystan have not had more words since I have been gone.”
“I fear that Drystan’s temper will only make things worse,” she said. “When you return to the Keep, my prince, do not let Dareena’s hurtful words wound your heart. The woman you know and love would never say such things. They are coming from someone else, and are not her will.”
“I know.” Alistair got to his feet and helped Rofana up. He gave her a few minutes to pack for the trip, then shifted and took off for Paxhall, along with one of the acolytes, who would protect her until he could send a proper escort from the Keep. Glancing toward Dragon’s Keep, whose towers gleamed in the morning sunlight far off in the distance, a shiver rolled down Alistair’s spine. He could not quite put his finger on it, but some nameless evil was in his home. He and Rofana must sniff it out before it was too late.
30
Dareena woke early the next morning and spent a good three hours staring up at the ceiling, trapped and unable to move. Frustration seethed within, and she wished there was some way she could communicate to Soldian, if only so she could be allowed to get up and relieve herself. It would serve that conniving twit right if she lost control of her bladder in bed, but her body was so frozen stiff she couldn’t even manage that.
Besides, Soldian would probably just force Dareena to make the other girls clean it up. There was no point in ruining perfectly good bedding if she couldn’t make a proper revenge out of it.
Even worse, Dareena didn’t even enjoy the comfort of her own bed. Soldian had forced her to move out in the middle of the night and take one of the guest rooms on the other side of the Keep. Dareena wondered if Soldian had chosen that time to ensure that the princes would not stop her—she had no doubt they would be very angry once they discovered what she had done.
“Good morning, my lady,” Soldian sang as she entered the room. Dareena wanted to glare hatefully at her, but she couldn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. “I hope you’re enjoying your new accommodations. You understand why I had to move you, of course.” She took Dareena’s hand and sat in the chair beside the bed. “I can’t afford for those handsome princes of yours to discover what I am up to before I’ve finished this little game of ours.”
Ours. As if she were a willing participant instead of a prisoner within her own body. Never had Dareena felt such hatred for a single human being, but if she could access her dagger, she would have plunged it straight into Soldian’s heart. Even Lyria had never inspired this level of vitriol in her—she’d merely been a spoiled, petty brat, not truly evil like this woman.
How could she have ever thought that Soldian was her friend? Of the three ladies-in-waiting she’d been assigned, she’d picked Soldian as her favorite, even though she’d never said as much to either of them. The young woman’s cheerful manner and open expression—so youthful, so innocent—had lured her in.
I suppose that’s why she’s a spy, Dareena thought dully. She is an excellent actress.
“Well, we can’t have you lying in bed all day,” Soldian said in that cheery tone that used to lift Dareena’s spirits, but now only grated on her ears. “Get dressed, and go sit in that armchair by the fire with a book. You are not to move, except to turn a page. I will at least allow you that much.” She winked.
Dareena did as Soldian commanded. Despair washed over her as the warlock spy left the room—to do what, Dareena had no idea. She imagined that Soldian had gathered quite a bit of intelligence eavesdropping on Dareena and her mates and being present at the meeting with the elves. Her heart sank as she realized the warlocks didn’t even need a scrying spell—they’d managed to plant the perfect spy, one who had intimate access to the royal family.
The only thing that gave Dareena even a modicum of comfort was the knowledge that her babe was still safe. But how much longer would that remain true?
The door opened, and for a moment, Dareena worried that Soldian had returned. But no, it was Rantissa, with an uncharacteristic scowl on her pretty face.
“So this is where you’ve been!” she exclaimed, coming to sit by Dareena. “I have been worried out of my mind looking for you. What are you doing in here?”
Dareena wanted to answer, but all she could do was stare.
After a moment, Rantissa scoffed, shaking her head. “You know, I was almost beginning to like you.” She folded her arms as she glared at Dareena.
Confusion muddled Dareena’s thoughts—this was quite unlike the shy, giggly woman she’d become acquainted with.
“When I saw how fairly you treated the elf delegation, I thought perhaps Prince Arolas had been wrong about you. But now that I have seen your coldness and cruelty for myself, I think everyone will be glad to be rid of you, your princes included.”
Fear lanced through Dareena’s heart as Rantissa rose from her chair, conjuring a whip of light not unlike the one Dareena herself used. She braced herself inwardly as Rantissa struck, and though pain seared her chest as the whip connected, leaving a trail of fire across the front of her body, she could not move or even cry in pain.
Rantissa’s eyes widened at Dareena’s complete lack of response. “What is wrong with you?” she cried, striking Dareena again. This time, the whip bit into the side of her body, sending agonizing pain through her arm. The wound on her chest was already healing, but Dareena knew that if Rantissa hit her hard and frequently enough, she would not be able to withstand it. The elven assassin—or at least that’s what Dareena assumed she was, based on what Rantissa had told her—raised her whip to strike again, but this time, sh
e hesitated.
Please, Dareena cried out silently, meeting Rantissa’s eyes. Please, help me!
“There is something very wrong here,” Rantissa murmured, right as the tip of a blade plunged through her throat. Shock hit Dareena hard as she watched Rantissa clutch at her neck, blood bubbling from her rosy lips as she hit the ground. Soldian was standing just a few feet away, a smug smile on her face.
“Can’t have more than one spy hanging around here,” she told Dareena. “She was quite good—even I didn’t suspect her. Do me a favor and remove that dagger from her neck, would you?”
Dareena did so. As her fingers wrapped around the handle, she wished she could fling it at Soldian and put an end to her misery. Instead, she pulled it out, then crouched beside the body, waiting for Soldian’s next command.
Soldian smiled, then let out a horrified shriek, loud enough to wake the entire castle. “She’s dead!” she cried as the guards came running in, pointing at Rantissa’s dead body with a shaking finger. “Lady Dareena has lost her mind! She killed poor Rantissa, merely because she talked back to her!”
The guards hesitated, looking back and forth between Dareena and Rantissa. “This wound looks like it came from behind,” one of the guards said, crouching to examine the body.
“Y-yes,” Soldian stammered. “She stabbed her when Rantissa turned her back.”
“She did more than talk back,” Dareena snapped, rising to her feet. “She tried to steal from me!”
“And so you killed her?” Drystan asked, sending a bolt of shock through Dareena. He was standing in the doorway, his face a picture of shock and disgust. Just how long had he been there? “I don’t care what Alistair thinks. You have clearly lost your mind.”
Dareena’s heart ached so badly at the look of disappointment and anger on Drystan’s face that she wasn’t sure how she would survive it. Her mate ordered the body removed and the blood cleaned up, and then he instructed the guards to put Dareena under house arrest. She was not to leave her quarters except to use the privy, and even then, must be accompanied by her guards and at least one of her ladies.
As Dareena sat woodenly on the couch, not even bothering to read the book Soldian had permitted her, she wondered if Lyria would come and find her. But her remaining lady-in-waiting—and the only one, Dareena suspected, who was loyal to her—had her day off today. She was probably in town, and had no idea what had transpired.
Night fell, and Soldian made Dareena change into a nightgown and retire to bed. Dareena felt a wave of disgust as Soldian climbed into bed with her. It seemed she could not get even a moment’s peace away from her captor. Though Soldian did not touch her—she merely turned over and went to sleep—it still felt like a violation. Was Dareena not even allowed the privacy of her bed?
Despite being unable to close her eyes, Dareena tried to sleep. She did eventually drift off, but nightmares of a horned beast with glowing red eyes plunging a black blade through her belly forced her awake, and she could not even scream from the horror. Gods, would this madness never end? Silently, she cried out to the dragon god for someone to come and end her suffering.
She had barely thought those words when the outer door to her rooms opened. Heart hammering, she listened silently as footsteps came closer. Soldian was instantly awake, a dagger palmed in her hand as she turned toward the door, but when it opened, Alistair was on the other side.
Dareena braced herself for yet another forced altercation, but Alistair didn’t say a word. Nodding briefly to Soldian, who had lain back down, he swiftly gagged Dareena, then gathered her in his arms. Soldian made Dareena struggle against him, but Alistair merely gripped her tighter as he strode out of the room. As soon as he closed the outer door behind him, he took off running so fast Dareena almost wondered if they were flying. A few seconds later, he darted inside another room and locked the door shut behind him.
Dareena’s throat swelled with tears as she realized they were in Alistair’s old bedroom—the place where they had made love for the first time. Gently, Alistair laid her out on the bed, then stretched himself out beside her and stroked her face.
“I don’t know what is going on exactly, but I know you’ve been bespelled,” he whispered, his amber eyes bright as he locked eyes with her. “I know that Drystan is angry with you, but I see the truth. I know this is not you.”
Relief swept through Dareena as Alistair pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “I am working on a solution.” He stroked her back. “Is there any way you can give me a signal? Something to let me know that you are still in there, and that you understand me?”
Dareena wished with all her might that she could. But without Soldian to pull her puppet strings, she could do or say nothing. Alistair seemed a little disappointed at her silence, but he did not give up, instead rolling her onto her back and pressing little kisses all over her face.
“I love you,” he said, brushing his lips against hers in a caress that was both soothing and sensual. He ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, and Dareena wanted so badly to reciprocate, to open herself up and let him in, as she’d done countless times before. Lovemaking was what had gotten them through their terrible ordeal in Elvenhame, but Soldian would deny her that now.
“I know you still want me,” Alistair breathed in her ear as he kissed a path along her jaw. “I can smell your need for me.” His hand slid between her legs, which had grown slightly damp despite the magic that worked to suppress her natural reactions. Even warlock spells were not enough to hide her desire—her blood burned with it, making it even more torturous that Dareena could not return his affections.
Alistair continued his ministrations for a little while, kissing and nibbling and running his hands all over her body in a clear attempt to snap her out of her frozen state. Dareena desperately hoped he would discover the invisible bracelet clamped around her arm, but he never touched it, despite putting his hands nearly everywhere else on her. Frustration gnawed at her as Alistair finally curled up with her in bed, spooning her from behind.
“We’ll fix this somehow,” he promised, burying his face in her hair.
Dareena sighed inwardly as he slipped off to sleep. Her frustration melted away, replaced by tenderness, as he snuggled in a little deeper with her. Gods, she loved him so much, and she was overcome with gratitude that he was here to comfort her now, even though she had spurned him and insulted him so grievously earlier. She might not be able to reciprocate, but she was grateful to lie with him like this.
Unfortunately, she did not have much time to enjoy being reunited with her beloved. The lock on the bedroom door clicked and the door swung wide open. A wave of hatred swept through Dareena—she knew Soldian was there, hidden beneath that wretched invisibility cloak of hers. The warlock spy didn’t speak this time—she merely exerted her will on Dareena, forcing her to leave the bed and return to the chambers Soldian had assigned to her.
The guards who had been posted outside her door seemed a little surprised to see her without Alistair, but they said nothing as she moved past them, Soldian on her heels. Dareena didn’t bother to fight as Soldian ordered her back to bed, and even when the woman joined her again, she wasn’t nearly as angry. She had gotten to spend some alone time with Alistair, and even better, Soldian had not forced her to stab him in his sleep. For now, Dareena would have to consider that a win. And hope Alistair came through on his promise to free her from this terrible spell.
31
“When do you expect her to arrive?” Drystan demanded as Alistair debriefed him on his visit with Rofana. “Are you sure it was wise to leave her in town with only a single acolyte for protection?”
“I think you should worry less about the oracle’s protection, and worry more about our mate,” Alistair said with a frown. “I know that you are having trouble seeing past your anger, but Dareena is in grave danger. Who knows what the evil controlling her might have her do?”
“You mean aside from making her kill one of her ladies-
in-waiting?” Drystan scoffed. The letter sitting on his desk was one he’d begun to pen to her family. He couldn’t imagine how devastated they would be once they learned what had befallen their daughter. Drystan had lied about the circumstances, saying that she was killed defending the Dragon’s Gift from an assassin, but he knew the truth. He’d seen Dareena crouching over Rantissa’s dead body, the murder weapon clutched in her hand.
Even knowing his mate was not in her right mind couldn’t excuse what she had done. His father, too, had been stricken by madness, yet that did not absolve him of his actions, nor comfort those families who had suffered at his hands.
“You know Dareena would have never done such a thing,” Alistair reminded him gently. “I took her to her old room and tried to speak to her last night. She was completely catatonic, which makes me think that whoever was controlling her very likely wasn’t paying attention at the time. She responded when I touched her, Drystan. She’s still in there somewhere, and she wants us. We just need to figure out how to free her.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation before Drystan could properly process what Alistair had just told him. “Come in,” he said irritably.
“Apologies for the interruption, my princes,” the steward said, entering the room, “but there are a trio of women here to see Dareena.”
Drystan and Alistair exchanged startled glances. “Have you informed the Dragon’s Gift that she has visitors?” Drystan asked.
“No,” the steward said. “You ordered me to deliver all of Lady Dareena’s correspondence to you, given her strange behavior recently, and I thought that edict might apply to visitors, too.”
