Chapter 8 #2
I gasped audibly, placing one hand over my mouth and the other over my chest—and for the first time in my life I was grateful for Cassy’s over-the-top storytelling, or maybe how Eithan and I mocked her mercilessly.
Looking aghast, I lowered the hand from my mouth and placed it delicately over the one on my chest. “Oh!” I exclaimed, then paused for dramatic effect before fanning my hand as if trying to shoo away the blush that didn’t exist. “I’m flattered, dear sir.
What an honor to be mistaken for the realm’s greatest prize. ”
It was impossible to discern his reaction through the distortion, but for the first time the weight in his stance shifted as if unsure, spurring me on.
Lowering my hand, I leaned in and looked at him conspiratorially.
“An honor to be sure. But…between you and me, no one in court will outright say it, but how terrible that the spark—our birthright—was born to a human. I mean, I have as much faith in the Ancients as the next fae, but Mother help me, the fates have a cruel sense of humor, no?” I pointedly tucked my hair behind my ears, showing proof that I was no human.
“Uh,” he stammered. I could have sworn he looked to the side as if searching for someone in charge—which was a good sign—but where in Lumnara was Endymion?
“If you’re not her, then…who are you?”
I lowered my voice a little more and looked around as if ensuring we were alone.
“Let’s just say, someone has to keep our High Lord…
satisfied—lest he get cranky,” I said with a wink.
Sitting up straight, I looked down my nose at him as if deciding something.
“You know, you seem like a kind gentleman. Would you care to escort a lady back to the palace? Wouldn’t want Lord Caius waiting any longer than necessary, now, would we? ”
My stomach flipped in anticipation. This stranger and I both knew he couldn’t accompany me back, as there was no way he was under Caius’ command. What he said next would determine how this played out.
“Nah, you’d best be on your way, Lady. Like you said, we wouldn’t want his worship to wait.” There was a sharpness to his words, but I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I held.
With a small nod, I shifted around and picked up the reins.
“Just one thing,” he said. “It’s gentlemale.”
I froze, my mouth going dry as the sharp click of his weapon snapped through the small clearing.
Instantly, I searched for my magic, only to come up short.
Yes, I’d used it against Endymion when provoked, but this…
this was different. I’d felt rage, and anger, and…
well, safety to feel in that moment. To unleash the pent-up pressure.
I’d never consciously used it to defend myself before—I wasn’t entirely convinced I could use it in that way.
That didn’t stop me from trying to call it forth, seeing as all I had was a damn dagger to protect me.
“Drop the reins, little liar.” Cursing myself for giving way in such a stupid way, I let the leather straps fall on Luca’s nape, holding my hands out to the side. “Good. Now, how ‘bout we keep ‘em hands where I can see them while you spin around and face me.”
Heart pounding, I did as he asked, awkwardly swiveling in the saddle to face him, only to meet the long weapon aimed for my heart, its shape reminding me of a crossbow.
Frustration bubbled beneath my skin as I abandoned the gentle call for my magic and demanded its presence—but the well that had been a constant, was eerily quiet.
Distant, even. I clenched my fists, the emptiness in my chest making me want to scream.
Damn it all, I was the spark, and when I needed it the most, it wouldn’t answer my summons.
“I gotta give it to ya,” he said. “Your glamor is notchin’—better than your li’l act.
I reckon this will take care-ah that though.
” Through the blur of whatever magic obfuscated his features, I could’ve sworn he winked.
It took me a heartbeat to realize he thought I was still human; that my ears were an illusion.
I was then startled as a vial appeared out of thin air before me.
I had no idea what was in the tiny glass container, but my body revolted at the black liquid trapped inside, seemingly alive as it writhed, trying to crawl up the sides as if ravenous.
“Drink it,” he ordered.
“Absolutely not,” I heard myself say before I could think better of it.
He took another step forward. “I wasn’t askin’. Drink. Now.”
I swallowed, now wearier of the liquid contents than the point of his weapon. “What is it?”
“You’ll see,” he said, a smirk evident in his voice.
I looked to the side for the hundredth time, but Endymion was nowhere to be found.
I needed time. Needed a distraction. Needed a bloody way out.
I didn’t know much in this world, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if I did as this male said, I was as good as dead.
Desperate, and with no other good options, I raised my right palm and smacked it against Luca’s hind, then grabbed the back of the saddle for dear life and ducked down.
Nothing happened. Not even a flinch.
“What did you do to him?” I roared, panic mounting.
“I’d be less worried about what I did and more worried ‘bout what I’ll do. Now, you have until I count of zero,” my soon-to-be captor prompted.
My eyes burned with fear for Luca, fear for me, and fear of being helpless.
“Three…”
Swallowing, I fought every survival instinct in my body as I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the vial liquid, my body shivering in response.
“Two…”
I popped the cork, the sound doubling my body’s visceral reaction to flee.
“One…”
With shaking fingers, I brought the tiny vial up.
“Zero…”
I closed my eyes as the cool rim touched my lips, then tilted it up. One moment the liquid was ready to spill into my mouth; the next, glass shattered, and the thick dark contents sprayed everywhere.
“Nyleeria,” Endymion called. My head snapped to attention as he cleared the treeline, nothing but pure determination in his features as he sprinted for me.
My relief was palpable, yet swiftly stolen by the undeniable sound of the weapon being released—its death knell flying toward me.
I didn’t remember drawing the blade from Luca’s saddle. Nor releasing it. But I was acutely aware of the sound it made as it slid between the distorted eyes—everything happening too fast to comprehend.
Distantly, I heard Endymion’s shouts—sharp, desperate—but my body didn’t move fast enough.
He surged onto Luca, cradling me as his drags of magic desperately tried to throw a shield around us.
It was so weak that the bolt sliding through, the hollow shattering sound reminded me of the paper-thin layers of spring ice underfoot; that haunting noise the last thing I understood before—
Nothing.
No pain. No sound. Just a strange, heavy stillness, like time had halted between heartbeats. I swayed in my saddle, aware of Endymion’s weight slumped against me, his blood soaking through my linen.
I knew something was wrong—terribly, irrevocably wrong—and as I looked down, I realized his blood wasn’t the only crimson staining our clothes. I stared at the bolt now connecting us, and as we toppled sideways off our mount, the world around dimmed to shadows.