Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
The next time Araya opened her eyes, she was alone in the bed.
She stared at the dark sky outside the window, her limbs heavy and her bare skin still raw against the sheets. But the fog that had dulled her thoughts was gone. Magic stirred faintly in her veins—still sluggish and unsteady, but stronger than before. And beneath it—
The bond.
Araya’s throat tightened, her eyes filling with tears. It thrummed in her chest, exactly where it was supposed to be, as much a part of her as her own heartbeat. How many weeks had it been since she felt him?
Loren. She reached for him instinctively—fingers curling in the sheets as if she could grasp that thread and pull—but before she could reach him her magic fetched up against something. It loomed between them, as smooth as glass but as immovable as a stone wall.
Araya caught her breath, panic flaring. That wasn’t possible. The bond was part of her magic—her soul. She threw her mind against the barrier, battering it with her magic. There had to be a way through—
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Araya flinched, her gaze snapping to where Jaxon sat in the chair by the bed, one leg crossed over the other and a book balanced loosely in his lap. She hadn’t heard him. Hadn’t even realized he was there.
“You aren’t going to be able to reach him.” Jaxon closed his book with a snap. “And I don’t want you taxing yourself while you’re recovering.”
Araya caught her breath, pressing a hand against her chest where they’d carved into her. Magic flared under her hand, the tingle of power promising pain for disobedience. That was her life now—beholden to whatever Jaxon Shaw ordered her to do.
“How long have I been asleep?” she demanded, dragging the blanket up over her naked chest.
Jaxon clicked his tongue. “Three days. I made the decision to keep you sedated after the little stunt you pulled.” He leaned forward, his sleeve riding up as he set his book on the nightstand. “I couldn’t have you damaging yourself while everything was so fresh.”
“What is that?” Araya whispered.
“This?” Jaxon rolled up his sleeve, baring the mark she’d caught a glimpse of.
“Ly’sura. I believe the direct translation in Valenya is claim life.
It’s the companion to your sor’vael. It’s what allows me to command you.
And of course, I had Kai add a tracking rune to it.
” He smiled. “Can’t have you running away again. ”
Araya stared at him, her heart pounding against the cage of her ribs. “You didn’t,” she whispered.
He could open that door right now and let her walk out, and she still wouldn’t be free. He’d feel every flicker of her magic, every beat of her heart. He’d always know where she was. And if she ever dared to fight him again—her own power would turn on her, burning her alive from the inside out.
She’d never escape him.
“You’ll get used to the idea, Starling.” He stood, putting his book aside. “Now, let’s check on those runes—have to make sure they’re healing cleanly.”
He didn’t wait for her answer, tugging the blankets off her before she could protest. She crossed her arms across her chest, doing her best to shield her body—but he just laughed.
“Don’t be shy, Starling.” His fingers closed around her wrist, prying her arms open. “I’ve already seen every inch of you.”
Her cheeks burned, but she couldn’t fight him. The fresh runes still throbbed faintly, stinging as Jaxon traced one with a fingertip.
“Good,” he said softly. “No infection. You’ve always healed so quickly.” The back of his hand brushed her breast, lingering just long enough to make her stomach twist. “You can even bathe, if you’d like.”
“And if I don’t want to?” Araya snatched the blanket back up to cover herself. “Will you just force me?”
“If you make me.” Jaxon raised his eyebrows. “I don’t like causing you pain, Starling. But if you want to do this the hard way…” he trailed off, letting the offer linger.
Araya didn’t fight him as he guided her into the bathing chamber, settling her on the stool while he filled the tub. Steam curled from the surface of the water, fogging the mirrors and turning everything hazy.
“I can do it myself,” she said when he reached for her again, but her voice was small. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He lifted her easily, his hands steady as he lowered her into the tub.
She gasped at the bite of heat against her raw skin, but he didn’t stop—just kept lowering her until she was submerged, water lapping at her collarbones.
Jaxon rolled his sleeves up and knelt beside the tub, washing her in silence. The cloth moved over her shoulders, down her arms, tracing every curve with meticulous precision.
Jaxon always did take great care with his possessions.
Araya closed her eyes as his fingers combed through her hair, working vanilla-scented soap into a rich lather. The world blurred at the edges, her mind slipping away to where she couldn’t feel his touch or the burn beneath her skin.
“There now,” he murmured, rinsing the suds away with a handful of warm water. “Doesn’t that feel better?”
Araya didn’t answer, her mind somewhere far away. She didn’t resist when he helped her out of the tub, making no effort to fight the towel or the clean shift he eased over her head. She was too weak. Too tired. She couldn’t fight. Not right now.
“You’ve lost weight,” he said, running a hand down her side. “Didn’t they feed you on Eluneth?”
“They were living behind an Arcanum blockade,” Araya rasped. “No one had enough to eat.”
Jaxon snorted. “Another good reason to be on this side of things.”
He took her arm and guided her back into the bedroom. A tray waited on the table beside the tea service, but Belanis hadn’t lingered. Jaxon settled Araya into the chair and served her himself, lifting the cover to reveal a bowl of clear broth and half a loaf of plain bread.
“Something easy on your stomach,” he said, nudging her spoon toward her. “Just while you recover. I promise, we’ll put some meat back on your bones after that.”
The broth was thin, little more than salted water and herbs, but Araya forced herself to eat, swallowing spoonful after spoonful under his watchful eye.
He talked while she ate, his voice warm and easy as he painted a picture of the future they’d rebuild together now that she understood her place in things.
His words blended together, each sentence folding into the next until it was nothing but noise, water lapping against the shore of her mind. The world around her faded, her existence narrowing to the simple task in front of her.
Lift the spoon. Swallow. Breathe. Survive.
Before she knew it, the spoon clinked against the bottom of the bowl. Jaxon reached out, pulling the tray away and sliding a steaming cup of tea toward her.
“It’s not the dampening blend,” Jaxon said when she hesitated, his dark eyes unreadable. “You don’t need that now.”
Araya took the cup, her hands shaking. Tea sloshed over the edge as she lifted it to her lips, but it was just tea.
The same blend Jaxon had always preferred, brewed strong and rich.
It scalded her tongue, but she swallowed anyway.
And the bond stayed where it was, wrapped so tightly around her heart that they would have to kill her to cut it free.
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.
“To you?” Jaxon laughed. “Nothing.” He poured a second cup for himself, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “My father and High Inquisitor Pryce are far more interested in your prince right now. You’re just the key to getting him where he needs to be.”
Key. The word was a knife in her heart. Confirmation of everything she’d feared—they were going to use her. She was the bait that would lure him back into their clutches. The weakness they’d exploit to break him. And this time—
This time they’d succeed.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Jaxon added a generous splash of milk to his own tea, the spoon clinking against the cup as he stirred. “Your connection to him doesn’t have to define you, Araya. Not when we have our own bond.”
He turned his hand over, exposing the rune at his wrist. Araya stared at it, watching it shimmer in the light. For something so monstrous it was remarkably small and plain. Nothing like what they had carved into her flesh.
“I’ll help you remember,” he continued, pouring her a second cup of tea like this was any ordinary morning.
“You don’t need him. You never did. I’m the one who’s always understood you—your power, your brilliance.
We could do great things together, Starling.
We will do great things together, once you stop fighting me. ”
Araya’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, Jaxon’s words blurring together into the same calm, coaxing rhythm he’d always used to smother her doubts. The same tone that had made her second-guess herself after every argument and quiet cruelty.
“Jaxon—” she started.
Someone rapped on the door.
Jaxon straightened, his face falling back into the perfect mask of bored authority. “Let him in,” he called.
One of the guards opened the door, letting Kai into the room. He looked exhausted, dark circles shadowing his eyes. But they brightened when he saw her, his head jerking up.
“You’re awake.”
“No thanks to you.” Araya shoved back from the table, sending tea sloshing across the white cloth. “Did you come back to finish the job?”
“Manners, Starling,” Jaxon chided.
“No—” Kai shook his head, waving Jaxon off. “Of course she’s angry, Jaxon. How would you feel?”
“Grateful someone cared enough about me to protect me from myself?” Jaxon arched an eyebrow. “Relieved that I was going to live a life of luxury when most fae rot in the slums—”
“A life as your pet is no life,” Araya snapped. “I don’t want him in here. I don’t want you in here. Get out and leave me alone.”
Jaxon clicked his tongue, rising to his feet. “That’s not how you speak to guests, Starling. And that’s certainly not how you speak to me.” His voice shifted, laden with power. “Kai needs to examine your runes. Strip.”
Araya froze. The runes on her chest tingled, magic gathering in her veins. It burned, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin and tears pricking her eyes.
“That’s really not necessary,” Kai said quickly. “You know proper wound care well enough—”
“It isn’t about the runes,” Jaxon snapped. “It’s about her learning her place.”
Tears streaked Araya’s cheeks, magic banding around her frantically beating heart like iron wire. This wasn’t the compulsion Loren had tried to teach her to fight. That had been an outside force, something she could fight and rail against. This—this was her own magic, turned against her.
Her knees hit soft carpet, every breath sawing in and out of her lungs. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine that she was somewhere, anywhere else as her fingers closed around the hem of her shift. The pain ebbed, cold air pricking her skin as she drew the shift up and over her head.
“There you are,” Jaxon crooned. His fingers gripped her chin, hot against her skin as she forced her gaze up to meet his. “She’s so pretty when she cries, isn’t she?”
“I—” Kai stammered, his gaze fixed somewhere on the ceiling. But whatever he’d been about to say was lost in the shrill screech of a perimeter rune. “What is that?”
“Nothing.”
Araya opened her eyes, her heart in her throat as Jaxon’s fingers slipped away. He strode over to the window, peering out into the night.
“Stay with her,” he ordered Kai, his voice clipped. He snatched the bone staff up from where it leaned against the wall, dropping it through the loop on his belt. “No one comes in but me. The guards will stay on the door.”
The door slammed shut behind him.
Araya sucked in a ragged breath, pressing a fist against her mouth.
Loren. It had to be Loren. He’d come for her—would always come for her.
And Jaxon knew that. That’s why he had allowed the tea to wear off while she was unconscious.
So Loren would be able to find her. And now he was here.
He’d taken the bait and was walking straight into Jaxon’s trap and there was nothing she could do to warn him.
“Hey. Everything is going to be alright.” Kai knelt beside her, gently prying the shift from her clenched fist. “Here. You should be able to get dressed again. He needs to be present to actively hold the compulsion.”
Araya jerked away from his touch, glaring at him.
“I know.” Kai rocked back on his heels, his gaze carefully trained on her face. “I know you hate me right now. But I really need you to talk to me. Are you alright?”
“No.” Araya dragged the shift back over her head, fighting the tears that burned in the back of her eyes. “Why would you let him do that to me? Do you know what he can order me to do?”
Kai looked like she’d struck him. “He can only command your physical actions,” he whispered. “Not your thoughts or feelings.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” A wet sob tore from her chest. “He just forced me to strip in front of you. What other physical acts do you think he’ll stoop to commanding me to perform?”
Kai’s mouth snapped closed. He stared at her, the usual sparkle in his eyes snuffed out. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice soft. “I really am, Araya. I came back as quickly as I could—”
“Go fuck yourself, Kai.”
Araya turned her back on him, crossing to the window again. She stared out at the dark gardens without seeing them, her eyes blurred with tears she refused to let fall.