Chapter 9
Wolfe
“Beauty in the Cage”
Elariya drifted above me like a fallen star, cradled within the cocoon of mystical energy I’d spun to keep her captive.
We were on the ship now, in the brig, a hundred leagues off the Stormfell coast, which itself lay forty miles from her home.
I’d used the Obscura to cross the land fast, moving through the shadows until I reached the sea. Within minutes, we were aboard. It had taken the rest of the night to get this far out, even with light use of magic.
By now, her family and her betrothed would know she was gone.
But it wouldn’t matter.
There was very little anyone could do for her now.
The only evidence of her disappearance was the necklace we left behind.
I would have taken it, but the grandmother would have been able to use its essence to track me. Leaving it threw them in a tailspin. Now they wouldn’t have a clue where their precious girl had gone. They’d think the wraith took her, but as to where, they’d know not.
The twilight shielding wouldn’t help, either. I’d unraveled it before I took the necklace off.
The worst-case scenario was them getting word to King Varis to get a decree to search for her in the magical realm. But that would take months.
They’d exhaust their pursuit to find her in the mortal lands first. There were plenty of criminals and savages across the land who used dark magic and wraiths to do their bidding.
Even if her family got permission to go to the magical realm to look for her, no one would dare suspect me.
Why would the Prince of Galaythia need some half-mage girl from the mortal lands?
As long as I kept my uncle in the dark about my lead to find the ring, neither he nor anyone else would connect me to Elariya Grayson.
So far, my sketchy plan had gone well without a hitch. Now the beautiful red-haired maiden who’d swayed both my body and my mind was in a deep soul sleep. I’d just finished weaving the protective cocoon around her.
If not for the faint pulse of life and magic thrumming inside her, something only beings like me could sense, she’d be mistaken for dead.
The soul sleep spell wrapped around her like gossamer threads, keeping her suspended between consciousness and dreams.
She looked like a doll. Unmoving and fragile. Small and mortal and breakable. Like something precious that could shatter with the wrong touch.
Her hair spread around her in crimson waves like fresh blood on shadow, her lashes like ink smudges on porcelain skin. That gown she wore dipped just low enough to show the pale rise of her breasts.
I forced my mind to focus. I needed to think of my next move. It would take another three days before we crossed the Veil.
Once we were in Galaythia, I would have the freedom to do what needed to be done to interrogate her by whatever means to find the ring.
The question was, how far would I have to go to break her?
That would depend on her. Whatever methods I'd use depended entirely on how cooperative she proved to be.
But even as I planned her interrogation, my resolve wavered. It didn’t help that the taste of her still lingered on my lips, sweet as wild honey and just as intoxicating.
Kissing her warm, inviting lips and pressing her lush body to mine had burned against the ice in my soul.
But fuck, tasting the sweet nectar of her arousal had almost done me in and stalled my plans.
I could have easily taken the cherry between her legs and made her mine in all the ways my body had wanted to.
But I hadn’t come this far to let my dick screw with my mind.
Gods, was this what it was going to be like for the next three days?
Me watching her like this?
And regretting not having her?
I’d meant what I said. That it was a shame. A shame I didn’t get to have fun with her. A shame I didn’t get to fuck her.
For those moments I gave in to the call of temptation.
I let myself imagine what it would be like to claim her virgin body completely, and watch those hazel eyes darken with desire instead of fear.
I’d wanted to own her, and take and take and take until there was nothing left, not even the air around us.
Now something heavy settled in my chest and the memory of the disappointment and betrayal in her innocent, trusting eyes twisted what little remained of my conscience with unease.
The truth was I had her right where I wanted her from the moment she got within an inch of me and touched me. I could have used my paralysis spell right then.
But the damn touch trapped me and I saw the opportunity to take more.
More I should have left well enough alone.
I shouldn’t have kissed her, or fucking touched her the way I had. All that did was leave me with a bad case of blue balls and the sting of not getting what I wanted.
Those things didn’t matter. Emotion was a luxury I couldn't afford. Now that I had her I was back to the question of the ring.
How had she stolen it?
She didn’t seem like a thief. Elariya Grayson was just a girl. More human than mage. The kind of human who had no desire for a highly powerful magical object
I’d considered that she’d probably given the ring away or sold it. But for the wraith to identify her as a thief she’d have to be linked to its actual theft.
That’s the part I was still trying to wrap my head around since she didn’t even seem to have any clue whatsoever about the basics of magic.
Had I not seen the lengths her family had taken to shield her from it, it would have been laughable that it took her so long to accept I was real.
But the situation stood as it was. Irrefutable. Magic itself had branded her as my thief and no one was going to stop me from getting my ring back.
My eyes roamed over her body as I considered what I was going to do with her. Then the thought of her betrothed made me smile. No doubt he’d be pissed he never got to touch her the way I had.
Thayden Fairstrom. Even his fucking name reeked of entitlement.
Her family thought he was worthy of her? Pathetic.
I saw him when he first arrived at the manor. It was clear the little fucker thought he was a god and acted like one, too.
Although he’d made a detour to fuck three of the bar maidens before seeing Elariya’s mother, I knew, just from looking at him, that he had feelings for Elariya.
I noticed it in the way he looked at her when they entered the hall, how he couldn't take his eyes off her.
I didn’t get to listen in when he was alone with her in her father’s study because I’d been watching the grandmother as she tried to ward the place.
I kept a close eye on her to see what she was doing.
I didn’t want any more setbacks like last night.
Thankfully everything the grandmother put in place was useless on me.
She was no more a threat than Thayden, who I knew would make it his duty to find Elariya.
He was in love with her and had a lot to gain from their marriage, so he wouldn’t give up on her so easily. That was fine. Let him come thinking he could take her back from me. I would enjoy eviscerating him.
The mage was mine now.
Through the mystical bond Elariya shifted in her enchanted sleep, as if she sensed my dark thoughts.
Maybe she did. It didn’t matter, though. I had an empire to reclaim and a curse to break. Everything else, including the strange pull I felt toward my sleeping captive, was irrelevant. This mage was merely a means to an end, a path to getting what was rightfully mine.
It was time to speak with my Veythral. They'd be eager to hear from me since I hadn't seen them since yesterday, and they'd only know I'd successfully taken Elariya once the ship had started to set sail.
I turned away from her, forcing the thoughts clawing through my head into silence as I moved toward the door.
I shouldn't have looked back. But I did.
The sight of her stopped me cold. As I gazed at her sleeping form, the realization struck that she looked like something pure, something I'd never deserve.
But it wasn't in my nature to back down when I wanted something, or someone.
I would have taken her anyway and dragged her down to my underworld with me. Just like Hades did with Persephone.
Enough. I forced myself to turn away once more and left.
Through the Veythra bond, I summoned my Veythral Circle to the meeting room. Our bond had never been more useful than during the last few days in the mortal lands.
There were five of us in all. Each—except Arielle—bore the black Veythra sigil on our wrist, pressed into the skin during the blood rite. It allowed us to send thoughts directly to one another, silent and undetectable, even to the sharpest magical wards.
Moments later, I stood at the door. I could hear them inside talking. About me.
The instant I stepped inside, the conversation died.
It was morning, and I’d most likely gotten them out of their beds, so they all wore casual clothing.
I shut the door behind me and met each of their gazes around the round mahogany table.
Bastian. Alaric. Garrick. And Arielle, my royal advisor. I avoided looking at her too much. As a mage, she was still pissed off at me for kidnapping one of her own. It didn’t matter that she’d never met Elariya.
She was the only woman in my court, a mage advisor sworn to serve the royal line.
But to me, she was like kin. Like another sister.
Despite our familial bond, I needed her on this voyage for her Fray magic.
Arielle had the ability to conceal anything, so she’d been hiding us since we went through the Veil, concealing us and our magic.
Her powers would also hide Elariya’s magic so no one could track her by trying to detect her powers.
I walked to the head of the table and sat in the empty chair waiting for me.
“Come on, Wolfe, don’t keep us waiting.” Alaric frowned. “Tell us what’s going on.”
“I have the mage secured in the brig in a soul sleep.”