The Shifter’s Prisoner

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The Shifter’s Prisoner Page 7

by T. S. Ryder


  “Willow . . . ” His lips brushed against hers, gently. “Whatever he did to you, I promise I’ll undo it. I will go to the ends of the earth. I love you.”

  I love you, too. Willow closed her eyes. Channeling all her strength, she managed to bring her hand up. The one that had the bracelet on it. Her fist struck Asa’s chin, but she was able to hold herself there, rigidly, showing him the band.

  His hands closed over her wrist. Blinding pain shot through her skull. Her brain was being fried, her body liquefied from the inside out—

  And then it was over. Her knees buckled and she collapsed against him. Her whole body trembled and she sucked in deep breaths, fighting to stay conscious. Bile churned in her stomach but she choked it back down. Eventually, she was able to stand on her own two feet again. She wound her fingers into Asa’s hair and kissed him hard, trying to put all her emotions into that kiss.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  Asa smiled at her, then fell to his knees. His wounds still gushed blood.

  “What’s wrong?” Her breath caught in her throat. “Why aren’t you healing? Asa, what did he do to you?”

  He clung to her hand and shook his head. “Give me a moment.”

  Willow dropped to her knees beside him. Her arms wrapped around his strong body, holding him upright.

  After a moment, his eyes opened again. “Sherwood got his hands on a fairy blade. I haven’t seen one since the rebellion that killed Quinn’s parents and my own. It slows healing significantly and can cut through dragons like butter. A similar blade is how I lost my wings. I thought that they had all been destroyed.”

  “Sherwood has been planning this for generations of dragons,” Willow replied, remembering what the fairy had told her. “He’s been stockpiling his magic or something . . . And he’s the one that started that rebellion. He’s bound to Quinn’s line. If Quinn and his unborn child die, then Sherwood will be free. He wants to destroy the world.”

  Asa grunted as he pushed himself back to his feet. “We won’t let him.” His knees buckled and he went down again. His head bent and he panted, skin pale. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to go. Get back to the city and tell Quinn. Warn them.”

  Willow swallowed hard. She looked around but saw nothing familiar. Even the mountains were obscured by the trees. “I’d never be able to find my way there. I have no idea where we are and I was never one for exploring. Until you came, I was never more than half a click from the village.”

  “You have to.”

  “I’d get lost and we’d both die.” Willow rushed to a plant with cluster of white flowers. “But I do know herbs. I often treated the sheep or dogs when they got hurt. This is yarrow. I can use it to help stop the bleeding.”

  She quickly got to work, collecting what she needed from the plants. Asa lay on the ground, panting. Sweat beaded his skin and tendrils of smoke rose from his gaping mouth. Willow had no idea what that meant, but she shoved aside her worries and concentrated on caring for his wounds. She talked to him as she did so, telling him about all the things they were going to do once he was better and Sherwood had been defeated.

  At some point, his eyes fluttered closed. Willow feared the worst, but shortly after, the still-oozing wounds stopped bleeding. The yarrow was helping – or it was his natural healing abilities. In either case, she began to wash his body and clean the wounds to stop infections from setting in. Color returned to his face. His shallow breathing deepened.

  Clouds crowded over the sun and a light rain started to fall. She didn’t have the knife or hatchet she would have liked, but Willow still managed to make a rudimentary lean-to to keep the rain away as she stayed with Asa. How many times had she built one of these to hide from severe weather with Jax curled up beside her while the sheep huddled together, bleating in complaint against the rain?

  Now she lay against Asa’s body, trying to spread herself over him enough to share her warmth with him. What would happen next? She had no idea, but there was one thing that she did know.

  If they were going to die, they were going to die together. And if Sherwood wanted to burn the world, he would burn first. They would not let him win.

  Chapter Fourteen – The Fairy’s Puppet

  Something was wrong.

  Asa opened his eyes, still breathing deeply. It was as though his body was still sleeping. He struggled to throw off the desire to just lay there, looking at the sky beyond the shelter Willow had made. The clouds had dispersed and everything was glistening with gentle droplets of rain. There were still aches in his body, but they seemed too far away. Willow’s warmth was beside him. They could just stay here forever and ever and ever—

  “No,” he growled, forcing his mind back. They needed to get up, to get to Cendas and warn Quill. He couldn’t let Sherwood win. What had the fairy done to him? His arm jerked, waking Willow.

  She knelt beside him, checking his wounds. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped. Thank God. You don’t know how afraid I was.”

  There was something important that he had to tell her. Something he had to say. “Your parents,” he blurted.

  Willow’s startled eyes met his. “What about my parents?”

  Wait, that wasn’t what he needed to tell her. It was something else . . . wasn’t it? “Sherwood has them under his thrall.” That was something he was certain of. “I think that’s the reason they wouldn’t ransom you back. He was trying to isolate you. So that nobody would notice when you went missing.”

  “Are you sure?” Her voice trembled but was hopeful.

  Asa nodded. There was something else, too . . . And then he felt it. Tendrils of magic wrapped around his arms. They flowed down his throat and spread out to his fingertips. It wove in an out of the synapses of his brain, whispering that he should just sleep. With a roar he fought against it, jerking away from Willow.

  “Get away,” he gasped, then the magic spoke through his mouth. “My injuries have made my shifting unstable. I could shift at any moment.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  He wanted to take her in her arms and kiss her and tell her he loved her. His arms reached for her. The magic urged him not to think. Just to hold her in his arms and show her how much he loved her. For the briefest of moments, he indulged. He pulled Willow into his arms and kissed her. His fires roared and his skin tightened as he tasted her. Her fingers curled around his biceps and her eyes started to drift shut.

  Willow pulled away abruptly. “There’s no time for that,” she said, though she didn’t release him. “We need to get back to Cendas. Sherwood has put the village under his thrall. They could find us at any moment.”

  “Run.” His hands tightened on her arms even as he struggled to release her. “Run!”

  “What?”

  He opened his mouth to tell her that he must have been hit with a thrall spell, too, but they weren’t the words that came from his mouth. The spell wouldn’t let him warn her. So he said the only thing that was allowed. “You have to warn Quinn. Don’t forget me.”

  Those words were enough for her to finally understand. Willow’s eyes widened. She jerked out of his grasp and backed away. Her hands started to tremble and she shook her head. He stepped toward her – voluntarily, involuntarily, he didn’t know. She turned and bolted into the trees. Asa stood there, fighting against the magic telling him to run after her, to grab her. His eyes slid shut and the magic sent bolts of lightning through his body. He screamed with the pain.

  When the agony was over, he found himself kneeling before Sherwood. Willow was in his arms, fighting against him. Asa cried out in horror. He hadn’t even been aware that he was moving. Now he had brought her back. His flames were out – nothing but cold coal in their place.

  Sherwood smiled at him. “And here I was, afraid that the spell had deflected.”

  “Let him go!”

  Willow managed to get an arm free from Asa’s grasp and she struck out, smashing her fist into his chest. The magic made
his grip tighten, but it was countered by the desire not to hurt her. He released her and Willow lunged for the fairy. She didn’t even get a blow in before Asa had grabbed her and pulled her back.

  Sherwood ignored Willow’s attempts to get at him and smiled at Asa. Golden sparks danced around his fingertips as he laid his hand on Asa’s forehead. His eyes glowed briefly. The magic flowed into Asa’s brain, wrapping around his neural pathways. He felt his mind be buried deeper inside the meat sack that was his body. He seemed to be separated from it, like he was a disembodied spirit floating in a body that was not his own.

  “That should take care of that pesky residual fight you’ve got going on.” Sherwood nodded in satisfaction. “How does it feel, Lord Asa? To have your power, your strength, stripped from you? It’s a shame that I can’t do this to Quinn. Unfortunately, even when my power is at its fullest, he will be immune. The rest of your dragons, though . . . I’ll revenge myself on his line by destroying everything his ancestors built. And you will be my first glorious assassin. The wingless dragon who will kill the king and take his throne.”

  No, Asa thought, but his body did not respond.

  “You can’t do this,” Willow cried. “It was unfair for you to be thrown away the way you were, but destroying the world? You can’t. You could build yourself a new life, a new—”

  “A new world,” Sherwood interrupted. “This isn’t personal, little flame. It’s just that I hate humans. I hate dragons. I hate everything that makes this world. It’s like . . . like burning a book that I didn’t enjoy and writing my own.”

  Willow tried to lunge again. Asa couldn’t even feel his body to know if his grip tightened or not. This was a bad dream. A nightmare he couldn’t escape from. Willow sagged against him, sobbing, but he couldn’t feel her there, couldn’t sense her warmth.

  “I didn’t want to be cruel,” Sherwood said, tucking a finger under her chin. “If you had kept that bracelet, your mind would have been destroyed before I burned you to death. It wasn’t a simple thrall spell like these,” he gestured around him, “are under. But you refused. It’s a shame. Because now you will feel every second.”

  “Fight it,” Willow whispered. “Asa, you’re stronger then—”

  “It’s not about strength.” Sherwood pulled her away from Asa’s grip and began to drag her towards a tree.

  Willow elbowed him in the chest. She broke free and started to run back towards Asa, only for her path to be blocked. Her father grabbed her around the waist and threw her to the ground. Her mother helped him pin her there. Willow writhed and sobbed as her parents held her, no expressions on their faces.

  Sherwood glared at her for a moment, rubbing his chest before kicking her in the stomach. Willow cried out, pain twisting her face. Asa felt the smoldering remains of his fires. A returning heat to his body.

  “Let me go,” Willow gasped. “Dad, Mom, please.”

  “The thrall rewrites the target’s neural pathways,” Sherwood drawled. “They can hear you begging. They’re probably screaming as they’re trapped in their minds. But they can’t do anything to stop me. Prisoners in their own bodies. Dragons are harder to hold since they heal so rapidly, but your Asa is weak. And he’ll be the one to kill you, my dear.” The fairy laughed again and stepped back. “Tie her to that tree and build a pyre around her.”

  Willow kicked uselessly as she parents dragged her upright. “Sherwood, please. Please don’t do this.”

  Sherwood whistled, his hands in his pocket, a cruel smile on his face, as Willow’s parents dragged her to the tree. They tied her in place as the rest of the village brought forward bundles of wood. With a thrill of fear, Asa understood what was going to happen. He’d be the one to light it on fire.

  “Why me?” Willow cried, echoing the plaintive thoughts in Asa’s head.

  His flames warmed. He could feel the beating of his heart now. When the thrall urged him to his feet to help gather wood, he didn’t fight it. The more energy he spent fighting that, the slower his healing would take part. And if Sherwood suspected that he was healing already, his neural pathways fixing themselves, then he’d be hit with another spell. He couldn’t risk it.

  The fairy wasn’t paying attention to him, though. “Why you? You look like the queen that bound me to Earth. She had red hair and silver eyes. It could have been anybody, really. Until you showed up, I was planning to use the king’s mistress. But then you were there, looking so much like the wench that destroyed my life . . . Well, it felt like justice to destroy her lookalike and regain my powers.”

  Willow jerked against the ropes holding her in place. Even though fear still shone from her face, rage started to overtake her expression. “I hope they come back and destroy you!”

  Asa’s lips twitched into a smile.

  Chapter Fifteen – Breaking Free

  Willow twisted her wrists this way and that, trying to free her hands. The ropes were loose. Because her parents were able to fight the thrall? Or just because they didn’t know how to tie a person up? They helped the other villagers build the pyre around her, expressionless. Asa moved with the rest of them, bringing huge logs and banking them right up against the tree.

  Stay calm. She had faced danger before. Granted, in those times, she had been defending the flock and her life hadn’t been in terrible danger itself. But she had remained calm in those times, and by God, she’d stay calm now.

  Sherwood watched the villagers build the pyre, not paying attention to her. She closed her hand as small as she could, the way she did when she had to reach inside a lambing ewe to help her give birth. The rope still clung to her hand, but she managed to work it free. The ropes fell entirely with nothing else to hold them in place. Her heart hammered as the last log was piled around her. She waited until Sherwood had his back turned.

  She lunged.

  Her fists crashed into his back, sending pain jolting up her spine. Willow jumped onto his back and wrapped her arms around her throat, trying to choke the life out of him. But seconds later hands were tearing at her. The villagers ripped her away from their slave-master and thrust her against the tree again.

  Sherwood rubbed his throat and shook his head. “I am getting tired of this, little flame. Stay put and calm down or I’ll have all of them burn with us.”

  Willow freed a hand and reached for a knife. “You’ll kill them all anyway! You’re going to burn the world and rebuild it.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’ll kill everybody. I will need loyal servants.” Sherwood wrapped a hand around her throat. “Submit and I will allow your village to survive the end of the world.”

  Her parents stood just behind him. In the crowd, she spied her brother and her sister. All of them were utterly blank: canvases with nothing painted on them. They didn’t ransom her, but was that because they didn’t care – or because Sherwood already had a grip on them? Was he hoping that he could kill her quickly and quietly, and it was only when everything went wrong that he decided that it would be this spectacle?

  Even if it was their choice not to pay for her freedom, they were her family. She loved them. She couldn’t just let them die. Could she? Was it really better for them to live if this was their fate? Or, if they lived, would they maybe have a chance at some point to break free? To rebel against Sherwood and his plans?

  Sherwood’s expression as carefully neutral as he watched her. She wanted to spit in his face and tell him to go to hell, but he already said that he was doing this as revenge against a woman whom he hadn’t seen since before the Great Pyramids were built. She didn’t want to see what he would do to punish her directly.

  He must have seen the defeat in her eyes because he released her. With a wave of his hand, the entranced villagers backed away. They moved a good distance, standing behind Asa. Was it just her imagination that he looked torn?

  The fairy put his arms around her. “I will be released from this flesh prison and your soul will restore my powers. You should be honored, Willow. Perhaps I will name th
e new world after you.” Sherwood’s lips brushed against her cheek. “Burn us.”

  Asa shifted, his beautiful dragon’s form glistening in the sun. But his jaw remained just. Smoke curled from his nostrils. Slowly, he shook his head.

  He was breaking free. Willow’s heart leaped. “Fight it!” she cried. “Fight him!”

  “No,” Sherwood hissed. “Burn us! Burn us now!”

  A burst of flame shot from Asa’s mouth. Willow’s jaw dropped open ready to scream, but it happened too quickly. The edge of the pyre lit on fire, the flames leaping up. Asa’s eyes widened and he let out a plaintive roar.

  Willow reacted on instinct. She threw her head forward. The smooth, hard planes of her forehead cracked into Sherwood’s nose. The fairy made a strangled noise. She stomped on his foot and stumbled away from the burning piles of wood. Sherwood jumped for her, face twisted in fury. He pointed at her parents as his other hand closed around her wrist.

  “You! Into the fire.”

  They obediently trudged toward the rising flames.

  A howl tore through the air. Asa lunged. A clawed hand shot out and wrapped around Sherwood. He yanked him back. Willow was dragged forward several meters before the fairy’s grip on her broke and she tumbled to her knees. Asa tossed Sherwood across the clearing. The dragon panted, rocking on the spot as though still fighting the thrall. Willow was so transfixed that she almost missed her parents still moving steadily towards the burning pyre.

  As she stumbled back to her feet, the rest of the villagers swarmed in. They attacked Asa as they had in the village. They clawed at him with bare hands. Only this time there was no screaming, no shouting. Just their faces, terribly blank, as they broke in waves against his huge bulk.

  “Mom,” Willow gasped, blocking her path. “Mom, stop, look at me.”

  Sherwood drew his glowing blue fairy blade. His eyes seemed to glow with the same light as he charged at Asa. The dragon’s head snapped out and another burst of fire shot from him. Willow tore her eyes away and tackled her mother to the ground.

 

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