27. Winter
Winter carried an unconscious Raven through the gate and onto the palace grounds.
He was no fool. The way Chace had looked at Raven, and the way she’d been unable to tear her gaze from him, even while in Winter’s arms… If they were still denying their attraction, then they were fooling only themselves, and poorly so.
Sure, Raven also liked Winter. He had no doubt about that, but whatever she felt for him clearly didn’t run nearly as deep as her unacknowledged emotions involving her coworker.
If Winter were a better male, a more committed-relationship kind of male, he might have been upset.
But as things stood, he wasn’t. Hadn’t been in a very long time.
He still found Chace annoying, and, yeah, he harbored an ounce or more of jealousy.
But he never allowed himself to consider Raven for anything long term, and Chace or no Chace, she was still a delightful puzzle for Winter to work at solving.
They had their own rather delicious rapport outside of Chace’s influences.
And, well, when Chace undoubtably…eventually…crushed Raven’s heart, Winter would be there to console her.
The prince stepped onto the grass expanse surrounding the palace and hollered to an approaching guard, sent him to retrieve Lucas. Priority, urgent. The guard dashed off at a run.
Raven would require immediate attention. Blood marred her lips and cheek, and the skin of her palms had been slashed to ribbons. Her unconscious state hinted at possible other internal issues.
He didn’t care what General Beckett was trying to attain. What happened in that warehouse was barbaric. Acting on an order by his grandmother, no less.
He would deal with all that soon enough. First, he needed to save Chace’s hide…as much as that chapped his own. Which meant he needed Lucas to collect Raven.
Struggling with his own exhaustion, exhaustion brought on from pushing against the magical binds trapped around his wrists, Winter didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to maintain holding on to Raven.
Nevertheless, he kept his pace quick as he crossed the lawn, but not so quick as to jostle her unnecessarily.
She moaned and tossed her head but didn’t wake.
He stared down at her, careful of his steps, lest he trip and send them both tumbling to the ground.
She didn’t need any more roughhousing. His magic hummed with the nearness of her, but nothing so strong that he couldn’t withstand the urge.
Would that continue to be the case when the iron cuff was removed?
Because he needed the cuff off if he were to help Chace.
He had managed to pool all the magic the cuff would allow him to access…which he was surprised there had been any…and had thrown it all at that thing in the warehouse. If Winter had been in full form, whoever or whatever that thing was would have been encased in a block of ice.
It wasn’t, because he wasn’t, but the attacking magic had been enough to stop whatever the thing was trying to do with Raven. Stop him long enough for Chace to swoop in and save her.
The image of Chace pulling Raven into his arms drifted across Winter’s memory, and he gritted his teeth. He should have been the one. He should have been the hero.
Only…
Gods. I’m drained. Completely tapped.
He was of no magical use to anyone in his current state.
Raven’s head rolled against his chest, and he tightened his grip. Moved past the gardens toward the castle’s nearest entrance—one designated for servants.
He was several yards away when Lucas burst out the door, a nervous energy vibrating in the man’s limbs.
“About time,” Winter grumbled under his breath.
“Your Highness,” Lucas said. “I was informed there was a most urgent matter afoot, and that I should run, not walk, to your attendance.” He skidded to a halt and ogled Raven. Lowered his voice. “Good gods. What happened?”
“We’ll discuss that later,” Winter said.
“There is another urgent matter to which I must first attend.” He shifted Raven’s weight and motioned for Lucas to take her.
“See that she is cared for, and I will come as soon as I can. In the meantime, let no one else near her, besides yourself and Neive. Not even the royal healer. Understood?”
Lucas nodded, and Winter shifted Raven’s care to him. The man servant grunted under the load.
“Gods above,” he mumbled and began to turn back toward the palace.
“Lucas.”
He swung back at the summons. “Yes, Your Highness?”
“There is one more thing I need from you.”
Lucas glanced around them, as if noting their relative isolation. “Please don’t keep me in suspense for too long.” He lifted Raven, barely, in his hold. “I may crumble under the weight.”
“I need the cuffs off.” He dropped a pointed glare to the iron surrounding his wrists.
Lucas leaned forward and seethed. “Winter.”
“I’m sorry, Lucas. I know you’re only looking out for me, but what attacked her is still out there.” He dropped his gaze to Raven.
Even with all her cuts and scrapes, she was still a vision.
He closed his eyes and focused on Chace being hauled away by the guards. “There’s something important I must do, and I’ll need my magic in order to succeed.”
Lucas stared at him, his expression blank, but Winter knew the man was scrutinizing him. Judging him ten ways through curse and kingdom. The servant’s lips pressed tight.
Lucas sighed. “You know, it would have been nice if you’d passed this request along before my hands were full.”
A shy, winning smile tugged at Winter’s mouth. “Yes. I suppose that’s true.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Right front pocket.”
Winter reached forward.
“And before you get any ideas,” Lucas continued, “that was not an invitation to anything beyond collecting the key.”
A laugh burst from Winter’s lungs. “Noted.”
He reached into Lucas’s right pocket and pulled free the key. Released the cuffs binding…or attempting to bind…his magic. The iron bracelets slipped free, and a welcoming arctic wind swirled around him, then evaporated.
“Thank you.” Winter slid the key and cuffs into Lucas’s pocket and turned toward the nearest palace containment cells, leaving the servant to care for Raven.
Winter made his way across the palace grounds, heading for the containment cages.
Every cell in his body was alive—pulsating—with his newly reclaimed magic.
He’d forgotten how damn empowered the gift made him feel.
If it hadn’t been for Raven…and the glove…
he wouldn’t be remembering, experiencing it now.
The glove had prompted him to head to the pub that morning, but instead, he had found himself chasing Raven and the black-garbed guards into a large warehouse full of afflicted.
What the hell were the guards doing with all those afflicted corralled in that manner?
And what was that thing…that enormous, cloaked male…doing going after Raven?
Using the magic of a winter breeze to mask his movements, the prince slid to the outer side wall of the nearest collection of containment cages.
They were a holding location utilized while paperwork was filed and an official residence in the castle dungeons was procured.
If all went well, Chace wouldn’t go any farther in the imprisonment process.
With a twist of his fingers, Winter sent a whispering breeze through the windows and open door of the small building. The wind collected sounds, smells, and shapes, then reported back to him. Four cages, one of which was occupied.
Chace sat in a holding pen on the bunk, legs stretched out, one bent at the knee. He leaned against the wall with his head tilted back. Eyes closed, as if the guy hadn’t a care about his location or condition.
The buffoon appeared too comfortable. Too confident.
And maybe he had every right to be because Winter was here, set on breaking Chace free.
But Chace didn’t know that…did he?
Winter released a groan of frustration and inched toward the window, peeked inside. Marking the location of Chace and the two nearby guards, he released his power.
The temperature dropped, and with it, the oxygen level. The guards shivered and exchanged a look, began rubbing their arms. Chace sat up straight on the bunk.
Sucking back a breath, Winter pulled more oxygen from the interior of the small building. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the flow moving away from the surroundings, summoning it to him. His entire being became nothing but the pull and flow of air. Drawing it smoothly, yet swiftly, to him.
Two thumps sounded from inside.
Winter opened his eyes and peeked through the window. The guards lay on the floor, asleep.
Choosing to remain silent, despite the guards being out of commission, Winter glided around the corner and through the front door on a phantom wind. He stepped over the slumbering men, snatched what he needed from the back wall, and made his way to Chace’s cage.
Chace stood at the front of the cell, inches from the bars, studying the scene. “What did you do to them?”
“When someone can’t get enough oxygen, the body tends to shut down,” Winter explained.
“They’re taking a short nap and will likely wake up with colossal headaches.
Not to mention, a whole lot of explaining to do.
” He glanced from the guards to Chace. “Don’t worry.
I’ve already returned the oxygen levels to normal. ”
Chace’s gaze dipped to Winter’s wrist, no doubt noting the absence of the iron cuff. While Winter’s was gone, Chace now bore one eerily similar.
Chace lifted his cuffed arm to eye level. “Nothing but decoration. This has no effect on me.”
And yet he remained in the cell. Winter frowned. Iron might have no effect on whatever Chace was…and by extension Raven, or so he presumed…but the confinement of bars seemed to do the trick well enough.
“Why are you here?” Chace pressed. “Not enough time has passed. You should be tending to Raven.”
Ah, there is his touching concern.
“I have someone I trust looking after her. She’ll be fine,” Winter said. “But you won’t be if we don’t get you out of here.”