CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE #5
But there was another sound, and I froze.
The door to our bedroom was locked, the entire cabin as well, and it was empty.
All of the guests had gone back to the lodge, all but Brennan’s personal guard, the knights who were most loyal to him, who protected him.
I tried to breathe, remembering I’d caught a glimpse of his men marching outside the windows.
I’d woken during a changing of the guard earlier in the night, their cloaks blue lit up by fire and moonlight.
I’d stayed awake after that, laying there with Brennan’s head against my breast, my fingers in his hair, listening to the insects and birds in the trees.
I took a deep breath, deciding it was nothing. I’d been safe ever since I’d come under Brennan’s protection. And I was about to close my eyes again, about to snuggle beneath the covers into Brennan’s arms when something smashed to the ground. I jumped and turned toward the noise.
A hand came from behind me, slapping a cloth over my mouth, some sour scent infused into it.
Immediately, I started to shift, to change my body, to fight back.
I willed my arms to grow muscles, my legs to thicken.
But then it stopped, almost as instantly as I’d had the thought.
Nothing changed. The awful scent was overwhelming my senses, burning my eyes and nostrils.
My magic retreated, and my eyes were closing. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t shift.
I’d been drugged. My pulse.
Abigail stood beside me and grabbed my arms, her fingers digging into my flesh as she dragged me naked from the bed to the floor.
“No,” I groaned. “What are you—?”
She lit a candle, and then a torch, the flames flickering and bringing light to the room.
Brennan remained asleep on the bed, completely unaware I was gone.
I turned toward Abigail. “What did you do to me?”
But Abigail didn’t answer. She began setting down black stones in a circle around me. They were dark, with flashes of blue. I’d seen them once before—but I couldn’t remember where …. My mind was growing fuzzy.
The door opened, and I nearly cried out in relief. For the second time in my life, I was happy to see a blue cloak, to see a tunic with a moonstag and flames embroidered on the center. The kind Brennan’s guard wore. A symbol of House Lafir.
But it wasn’t one of his guards who entered. It was Jaron who walked inside. He tore the tunic off, revealing his black steel armor underneath. Batrir’s armor. The door remained open, and three more men entered—each one wearing the cloaks of Brennan’s guard.
I tried to scream as they came into the light. Tried to scream as I saw the faces of Stephen, Erick, and Donovan. The latter two were carrying something large and heavy between them. A tapestry, like the ones that had been hanging outside the room, covered it.
They grinned when they saw me, naked on the floor, paralyzed and unable to move, screaming inside my head as I realized the unmistakable shape of what they carried. It was a box. They were carrying a fucking box.
I tried to shift, to roll over, to stand up, to send power to my arms, my legs, or even just fucking cover myself with clothing.
I was full of magic after what Brennan and I had done.
I was as powerful as I’d ever been. The beast who’d flown out of me after my mother died felt like child’s play compared to what I’d taken.
But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do a Godsdamned thing.
“What is this?” I managed to grit through my teeth. It was taking all my effort and concentration to form words. “What … did … you do to … me?”
But the men, my attackers, only laughed.
Geoffrey walked in next. “Venom-infused handkerchief,” he said, nodding at Abigail. “From the tail of a chimera.” He grinned. “Oh, and these?” He gestured at the black stones around me. “They can block an Azete from feeding. They’ll come in handy these next few days we have together.”
“What?” I asked. “What—” But I couldn’t ask anymore. I could no longer speak.
Donovan and Erick were pulling a cloth off the box and removing the lid, sliding it back.
There was someone inside already. An unconscious girl—a girl with long, black curly hair.
I wanted to scream, but my mouth wouldn’t move, because it was Olivay. The real Olivay.
They lifted her from the box, her limp body adorned in a thin white nightgown. The men laid her down in the bed beside Brennan. He stirred in his sleep and reached his arm around her waist. Pulling her closer, tucking her against him.
No! No! Fuck. No!
I shook my head, screaming, crying. But no sound would come out. Then Donovan and Erick picked me up, their disgusting hands pressing into my arms and legs as they carried me to the box, dropping me inside.
My face hit the wood floor, and pain exploded through my cheek and shoulder. I couldn’t move, but I could feel pain. Then I looked up, seeing Geoffrey’s black eyes, and oily hair, and Jaron’s cruel, scarred smile, his black armor shining with red in the firelight.
I seethed, my chest hammering, the pain and fear exploding. I was in too deep, too far to take one final look at Brennan. To see if he was still breathing.
And then I couldn’t see anything. They shoved the lid into place, closing the box, and leaving me in darkness.