Chapter 17 #2
"Look at me," Kellan commands, gripping my shoulders firmly. His eyes shift, the pupils elongating into reptilian slits as his inner dragon rises to meet my wild magick. A wave of soothing warmth radiates from his hands where they touch me.
"Breathe with me," he instructs, his voice dropping to a deeper register—part human, part dragon. "In... out... in... out..."
I try to match his breathing, but panic clouds my mind as I see Hawke on his knees across the room, visibly in pain from my uncontrolled power.
"Don't look at him," Kellan says sharply, turning my face back toward his. "Look only at me. Feel the control. Take it back, Domina. Pull it inside. Your magick is not separate from you. It is you. Call it home."
I close my eyes and visualize my power as ribbons spreading outward like he taught me. Following Kellan's guidance, I try to imagine drawing those ribbons back into my core, reeling them in like fishing line.
But they resist, slipping through my mental grasp like eels. The more I struggle to control them, the more they seem to writhe and expand, feeding off my frustration and fear.
"I can't," I gasp, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "It's not—it won't—"
"Focus," Kellan commands, his grip tightening on my shoulders. "One ribbon at a time if you have to."
Sweat beads on my forehead as I concentrate harder, teeth gritted with effort. My head pounds, the queen's voice still a distant scream beneath the roaring of my own magick. I can feel Hawke's pain through our bond, which only makes panic rise higher in my throat.
"Breathe," Kellan reminds me, his voice a steady anchor. "Your fear is feeding it."
I force myself to take a deep breath, then another. I stop trying to grab all the ribbons at once and focus on just one—the thinnest strand of wild energy I can find. With painstaking concentration, I visualize wrapping it around my finger, slowly drawing it back.
It comes, reluctantly. Then another. And another.
My muscles ache with the effort, trembling as though I've run for miles.
"Almost there," Kellan murmurs, his own energy a steady pressure against mine, helping to herd the wildest strands back into place.
With one final, excruciating effort, I pull the last of my power back into my core, sealing it away. The effort leaves me gasping, drained, my body suddenly heavy as lead.
"That's it," Kellan says, his voice softening as his features return to fully human. "Well done."
I open my eyes to see Hawke straightening, color returning to his face.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, tears gathering as Kellan releases my shoulders. "I didn't mean to—"
The words stick in my throat, guilt and shame flooding through me. I've hurt him again The same magic that's killed everyone else I've loved. The same magick that’s going to take him too. The room swims before my eyes, exhaustion and horror making my knees tremble all over again.
Hawke crosses the space between us in three quick strides and pulls me into his arms. I collapse against his chest, my fingers clutching desperately at his shirt as silent tears track down my cheeks.
"Not your fault," Hawke says, his voice still rough as he waves off Kellan's supporting arm. His hands stroke down my back, steady and strong despite what I've just put him through. "Breathe, love. We're okay."
But we're not okay. Nothing about this is okay. I could have killed him. I almost did kill him. And the queen is still screaming in my head, a relentless, maddening presence that's driving me to the edge.
I bury my face against Hawke's chest, trying to ground myself in his familiar scent, in the steady beat of his heart against my ear.
"What happened?" Kellan demands, looking between us.
"The Queen is calling to her," Hawke explains. "Has been for weeks, apparently."
Kellan goes completely still, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief to something much darker. The temperature in the room spikes suddenly as his control slips.
"Weeks?" he repeats, the word coming out as a barely contained growl. His eyes flash, pupils narrowing to reptilian slits. "Aena has been in your head for weeks?"
His gaze snaps to Hawke, who shakes his head slightly.
"I just found out tonight," Hawke says, his arm tightening around my waist. "We're both finding out tonight. She’s gotten really good at blocking us both."
“I’m sorry.”
Kellan's jaw clenches as his attention turns fully to me, a storm of hurt and anger brewing in his eyes. "You kept this from both of us?" he asks.
The accusation hangs in the air for a moment before Kellan turns away sharply, running a hand through his hair. I can see the muscles in his back and shoulders bunching beneath his shirt as he struggles to rein in his temper.
"I should have known," he mutters, more to himself than to us. "The nightmares, the fatigue… I thought it was just the pregnancy." He slams his fist against the wall, hard enough that I hear something crack, either the stone or his knuckles. "Fuck!"
When he turns back to face us, his expression is filled with self-recrimination and fury.
"I am your bonded guardian," he says, voice low and rough with emotion. "My entire purpose is to protect you, and I've been walking around with my head up my ass while you've had that monster whispering in your mind."
I shrink a little against Hawke's chest, guilt compounding my exhaustion. Kellan sees it and his expression softens slightly, though the rage is still there, simmering beneath the surface.
"This isn't your fault, Domina," he says, though the words sound like they're being dragged from him. "But you should have trusted me enough to tell me. Either of us. Both of us."
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No more secrets,” he whispers.
Hawke buries his mouth in my hair. “No more blocking us, ever.”
"I won't. I promise," I choke out after a sob. My voice steadies as I continue, "But I need to go to Camelot. Tonight. I need to understand why the queen is calling me and what she actually wants."
Kellan looks to Hawke, clearly expecting him to refuse. When Hawke remains silent, Kellan's eyebrows rise in surprise. "You're considering this?"
I push away from Hawke's chest, my exhaustion giving way to a desperate urgency. My hands tremble as I wrap my arms around myself.
"Both of you, please," I say, my voice cracking. "I'm the one that can't sleep, can't think. It's—" I swallow hard, fighting against the tightness in my throat. "It's torture. The voice is getting stronger every night. This isn't something I can ignore and stay sane."
The queen's voice crescendos in my head as if to emphasize my point, making me wince. I press the heel of my palm against my temple, willing it to stop just for one goddamn minute.
"Let's go, but you are not touching the sword or the wall, do you understand?" Hawke says finally.
Relief floods through me so intensely that my knees nearly buckle. "Thank you and yes."
"Don't thank me yet," Hawke warns. "I think this is a terrible idea. But I'd rather be there to protect you than have you sneaking off on your own."
"I wasn't going to sneak—" The lie dies on my lips as Hawke raises an eyebrow, silencing me with a look that clearly says he knows me too well.
I drop my gaze, too tired to maintain the pretense. "Fine," I concede, my voice barely above a whisper. "I might have considered it."
"Kellan comes too," Hawke says, already moving to our wardrobe. "And we'll need a siren to travel. No horses for you for a while."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak past the lump of gratitude forming in my throat. Finally. Maybe I can get some answers or at least ask the evil woman to shut up to her face.
“There’s a garden with a fountain below the bridge that crosses to the Table chamber,” Hawke tells Kellan.
Kellan nods. “I’ll call a siren.”
I point to our bathroom. “The tub’s already full in there.”
Both men glare at me with such judgement.
I frown and pick at a hangnail. “I take a lot of baths. It’s the only thing that helps with morning sickness.”
The minutes drag, but soon we're all three fully dressed and standing in our private bathing chamber.
Kellan has summoned a siren, not one I recognize, just a young female with silver-blue hair and iridescent skin. She rises from the tub's surface in a silvery white dress.
"Your Majesties," she greets us with a formal bow. "How may I serve the crown?"
"The garden fountain beneath the eastern tower bridge in Camelot," Hawke says.
"Of course, Sire."
Hawke reaches out a hand toward her. He looks back at me. "You're next."
I nod, but my throat suddenly feels too tight to speak. The reality of what we're about to do crashes over me in waves. We're going to confront the queen. Potentially the most dangerous being in all the realms, a woman whose madness drove an entire people from a planet.
And I'm going deliberately toward that voice that's been haunting me. What if going closer makes it worse? What if I can't block her out at all once I'm there?
My hands begin to shake, and I clench them into fists to hide it. Hawke studies my face for a moment longer than necessary, clearly sensing my rising panic through our bond.
"It's going to be okay," he says softly, but I can hear the doubt beneath his reassurance.
I force a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Of course it is,” I say before I watch him disappear beneath the surface of the steaming bathwater.
A few minutes later, she reappears and I step into the bath and take her hand. Such a strange sensation to step into water and not feel it on your skin. Not really.
Instead of the expected wetness, a tingling sensation races across my skin as reality folds around us. We sink beyond the tub. Colors swirl in impossible patterns, blues and greens bleeding into violets and silvers.
Then suddenly, we're standing in knee-deep water in an ornate stone fountain. The night air is cool against my face, scented with special jasmine-looking flowers that bloom only in moonlight.