Chapter 21 #2
“A short time where anything could have happened to you.” He shifted close enough that I could feel his breath against my mouth. “A short time when I couldn't protect you.”
“I can protect myself.”
“Not from everything.” His hands slid up to frame my face, his touch possessive. “Promise me you won't vanish like that again.” His voice roughened. “I can't protect what I can't reach.”
The command in his tone should have annoyed me. Instead, it sent a thrill straight through my core. But I wasn't about to let him know that.
“Or what?” I tilted my chin up, letting defiance sharpen my tone. “You'll tie me to the bed?”
His eyes darkened. “Don't tempt me.”
“Maybe I want to tempt you.”
For a heartbeat, the air between us crackled with tension.
Then Lore exhaled, his fingertips tracing my cheekbones. “Tell me what she said first. Then we can discuss your punishment for scaring me.”
I suppressed a shiver at the promise in his words. “First, she knew who I was.”
He frowned. “Will she tell?”
“I don’t think so.” But we couldn’t trust anyone here. “She explained about the chant. Naveer feeds off willing deaths, people who choose to die for honor or glory release more life energy than murder victims. The trials aren't just games. They're harvesting opportunities.”
The thought of what she was doing made me sick. My father… I shut off the thought. This wasn’t the same.
Or what is?
“And Laphira?” he asked.
“She's been forced to witness it all. Years of watching people die.” I leaned into his touch. “Davalon said there are other reasons for her condition, but she wouldn't elaborate.”
“Cryptic spirits.” Lore's jaw tightened. “What else?”
“She said Naveer's power has a source, and that I should look for what sustains rather than what controls. She also mentioned that some magic becomes part of foundations.”
“Foundation magic.” Lore considered this. “Built into the structure itself, maybe? Harder to break because it's woven into the very stones.”
“We encountered something similar in the labyrinth.”
“And we left that entity well-contained in the structure.”
“Maybe this one is well-contained as well.” Though I doubted devotion played any role here at Irridain. Except… “Dominion.”
His eyebrows lifted, begging me to explain.
“Irridain. Dominion. What if true dominion can only be achieved through willing submission? That might be keeping whatever it is bound.”
“An interesting notion.” His hands dropped to my waist, pulling me closer. “From now on, we do everything together. Which means no more solo adventures.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know you can.” His voice softened. “But I can't handle losing you. So be gentle with me.”
The raw need in his voice made my chest tighten. I could fight his commands, but I couldn't fight his fear of losing me. “Next time I'll take you with me.”
“Good.” He kissed my forehead. “Now, about that punishment.”
“I thought we were going exploring.”
His low growl echoed in the room. “We are. Keep your punishment in mind, love, because it’s coming.”
I gave him a cocky grin and sidled around him, aiming for the bedroom. “I can’t wait.”
Farris yawned from where he lay on the bed, his ears flicking back and forth before he stretched long, his fluffy tail curling toward his spine. He hopped down to the floor and padded toward us.
“Are you coming with us?” I asked, scratching behind his ears. “Or can I convince you to remain here?”
He gave me a flat look, tilted his head, and trotted toward the door, his tail flicking upward as if I’d given him a grave insult.
I swear he understands everything, I told Lore.
He grunted, and we strode into the sitting area. He opened the door enough to check the hall, and once he’d ensured it was clear, Farris and I slipped out behind him, as quiet as a breath.
Somewhere below, muffled voices echoed. I couldn’t make out the words, only the cadence, punctuated by the clink of glass and the drag of random footsteps.
At the stairwell, Lore turned to me. Down or up?
Up, I said. Few hide secrets in the servants’ quarters, and Calista and Moira will discover them for us if they do. And there were people out and about down there. It sounded silent above—so far. People tended to talk about who they ran into, who they saw slinking through the halls.
We climbed to the fourth floor. The castle felt different at night, like the walls themselves were listening.
We passed a set of tall doors that opened into a ballroom, where only the tinkle of past laughter and music remained. A chandelier hung like a frozen sun above a dusty floor that didn’t appear to have seen a dance in a very long time.
Next came a parlor filled with chairs too perfectly arranged.
Then a library. The doors stood ajar, and I pushed them open enough to slip inside with Lore and Farris right behind. The air smelled of old wood and aged paper. No lights burned, and I didn’t hear anyone moving around.
Books stretched from floor to ceiling on this level and the one above. I strode over to the closest stack and ran my fingertip along the thick black tomes with no titles. They hummed under my touch, the dormant magic inside them whispering like wind through dead leaves.
These are ancient, I whispered in Lore’s mind, though I could shout, I supposed, and no one other than him would hear.
Still, I felt like I needed to remain quiet.
Careful. I pulled a book from the shelf and laid it on my palm and tugged at the cover.
Sealed. The next book too. All of those on this shelf.
This place feels preserved, not lived in.
I could’ve spent hours here. Books had saved my life more than once. There might be something in this room that could help us. But there was no time to search.
We left the library and continued up to the next level.
The tile on the sixth floor creaked under our steps, and I brushed my hand along the wall as we moved. Farris trotted at my side, sniffing the floor, his tail twitching, but he didn’t signal any danger.
We approached a corner and came to a stop, our eyes widening in alarm.
A woman’s voice, hushed but much too sharp, echoed from ahead.
Lore grabbed my arm and pulled me behind a thick window drape that fell from ceiling to floor, the fabric swallowing us whole. Farris slipped in beside us and curled at my feet, remaining utterly still.
Footsteps approached, hurried heels on stone. The same woman’s voice rose, clipped. “Keep up. You don’t want to upset her.”
They passed us, and we peeked around the fabric, watching as Laphira walked with a stilted stride, her expression vacant.
She was not wearing the chain with the talisman around her neck.
A woman dressed in a starched black dress with a ruffled collar and a tight gray bun on her head clutched Laphira’s upper arm, her mouth drawn into a hard line.
A boy trailed behind them, holding a toy dagger in his hand. Young. Pale blue eyes too large for his face. He walked slowly, slashing his pretend blade back and forth through the air.
Still keeping a tight grip on Laphira’s arm, the woman reeled around to glare at the boy. “Stop dawdling. Keep up or you’ll feel my hand.”
The boy flinched.
Something cold settled in my stomach as I watched the interaction.
Fear flashed across his face, and he looked like he might cry. But he rushed forward, his small legs working hard until he reached Laphira and grabbed her hand, looking up at her.
“Mummy?” His soft voice rang out in the hall. “Why won’t you smile?”
Laphira said nothing. Did nothing but walk beside the woman, under her command.
The older woman hissed something under her breath, but I didn’t catch it. They rounded the corner and their shoes clicked on the floor, their footsteps fading.
Lore sent me an eyebrow-raised look. Laphira’s son.
How old does he appear to you?
Four. Five. He tilted his head. Why?
Because he has Dorion’s eyes.
The same pale blue, the same shape. The same eyes that had looked at me with desperate hope when Dorion spoke of the woman he loved.
That wasn't just Laphira's son.
He was also Dorion's child.