Chapter 40 #3
My mind, as ever, drifts back to Selene. Another shiver slides down my spine when I think of what would’ve happened had Eislyn taken her as well.
And then, the most haunting thought yet: Did she take Selene?
The thought has me fighting my shackles anew.
Selene! I shout down our bond, uncaring that, in addition to our broken connection, these cuffs have likely cut off all potential communication between us. Selene! Are you safe?
Silence. Horrible, unending silence.
I shout then, let loose my rage and my fear.
I yank at my hands, willing them to break. My agitated magic rushes to my fingers, but it will not act on my behalf.
Panic floods my system. I bellow again, just to release something.
Behind me, I hear the door open and the sound of several footsteps entering the room.
Before I see anyone’s face, I see their power. Deep, vivid shades of green and violet. Crimson and teal. The plumes of it brush my skin as the individuals encircle me. Most of them are older, their skin wrinkled and mottled, their muscles softened with age and disuse.
Their magic, however, makes them plenty formidable, and their eyes are almost as pitiless as mine.
Last among them is Eislyn.
I realize then how deeply, deeply fucked I am. There is only one reason a group of wretched supernaturals gather around a captive in the middle of the night like this.
I’m about to be bonded against my will.
I jerk on my hands again and again, as hard as I can, the agony of it nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the alarm I feel.
I bellow as I feel something crunch near my wrist and my palm slides closer to the cuff.
My vision darkens as the pain fills my senses.
Another crunch.
Eislyn’s eyes widen a fraction. “Someone, put our captive to sleep.”
I jerk against my bindings as hard as I can, grinding my teeth against the agony. My cuffs slide up to the knuckles of my left hand. If I can get it free, I’ll have one hand available.
A shout hisses through my teeth as my broken appendages are squeezed tighter together.
Crimson magic slams into my chest, and the world goes dark.
I jerk awake, gasping as fresh pain splits down my sternum.
All around me, I sense the foulness of demons. They hold me by the arms and legs, wrists and neck. I’m on my knees between them, pinned in place by their punishing grip.
Blood streams from my chest, and in front of me, Eislyn holds the bloody blade.
I glance around, my mind unable to process what’s happening.
The fairy drags the blade down her palm. “Only with death shall I at last forsake.”
I recognize those wretched, damning words as Eislyn presses her bloody palm to the open wound on my chest.
I roar as magic lashes through me, chaining my will to hers.
The windows explode outward, supernaturals blown back in all directions.
I’m choking on the vile surge of Eislyn’s power as it wraps around my sternum. This is nothing like the sweet bond I exchanged with Selene. This is a forced act, one that seeks to enslave me to another.
“You will not use your magic against anyone in this room!” Eislyn commands.
I’m hardly listening. I wrestle with the demons who still cling to me. Shove one off. Then another. I’m still bellowing. Sharp agony radiates from my hands and wrists, and I do not care.
“Get the cuffs back on him! Now!” Eislyn shouts.
The shackles that neutralize my magic. Of course. I’m free of them.
I call on my magic then, and I feel the rush of it. But though it spills from me and thickens in the room, it touches none of the men and women.
If I cannot kill them with my magic, then I’ll do it the fucking old-fashioned way.
I clasp my hands together. “Heal,” I command in Sarmatian.
There’s grinding pain as bones reset. I don’t wait for it to finish before I attack the demon rushing at me.
It takes little effort to grip his head. I give it a swift jerk and hear a snap.
More demons move toward me. I manage to incapacitate another before my hands are ripped away and forced together above my head.
The demons crowd around me, the knot of them too thick to fight off without the use of my power.
I glance overhead and catch sight of the cuffs dangling from the ceiling, the ones that will neutralize my power.
Panic rises in me.
My gaze dips to my sternum, where I sense Eislyn’s magic gripping me like a vise. It’s as I focus on this new connection that I realize I sense Selene more powerfully than I have in days. She’s right there, so close against my bond that I could nearly touch her.
She’s agitated, but asleep.
Safe.
I nearly weep.
Selene! I roar across our bond. Triumphant, desperate.
Then the shackles are back on, and in an instant that connection is severed.
I rage and bellow some more, even as my body is hoisted up and my power is extinguished.
Eislyn surveys the broken windows, even as a few of the other supernaturals begin to repair the glass.
She smooths her hair. “Well, that was quite a show.”
Had I thought I was powerless before?
This is true servitude.
The fairy’s eyes find mine, and they gleam with malicious excitement. “Oh, the plans I have for you,” she breathes. “I think we’ll start by dealing with your wife.”