Page 36 of Blade of the Nightking

I nodded, my heart sinking. Just when it had seemed things might somehow work themselves out between us, that we might find our way back to what we'd been, the worst possible thing had happened.

“Aedric,” I whispered. “What are we going to do?”

He stiffened. “The last time my mate bonded another, I killed him.” His lip curled into a feral sneer. “I'd be more than happy to do it again.”

I pulled the towel tighter around me.

“He won't dare enter your mind again. Your magic knows the shape of his now. It’s siphoned from him once already. It won't forget.”

“He can’t… dreamwalk with me anymore?”

Aedric gave a grim nod. “Not without risking another siphoning. He won't make that mistake twice. But he may still seek you out.”

Or summon me, I thought, a chill running through me.

That was what he'd said in the in-between realm of the Moiraithe, when he'd tricked me into that bargain. He'd promised to call on me when it suited his vengeance against Elantis. My life in exchange for his help fighting the enemy. I'd thought he'd meant Tharnyx, not his enemy—the Fae. This was far worse than Aedric could ever know.

Not only had I sold myself to a monster, but my magic had bound itself to his. Siphoning or not, the Dark Prince was likely gleeful wherever he was. I was the most dangerous weapon in the world. And I belonged to him.

“Are you all right?” Aedric asked. The gentleness in his voice caught me off guard. It was careful, restrained, but closer to the warmth he usually gave me freely.

“I’m sorry,” I said, the words tumbling out. “I should have told you.”

He exhaled slowly. “No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” I echoed.

He turned to Hamish, who still stood motionless by the door.

“What do you need, my Lord?” Hamish asked, his deep voice steady as he sensed a command coming.

“Two things.” Aedric raised a finger. “Send word to Levinica. Her wards are to be strengthened immediately. Rìan will undoubtedly seek refuge in the Dusklands, where his power is strongest.”

Ice speared through me.

“And the second thing?” Hamish asked.

Aedric rose and crossed to him, placing a hand on the big male’s arm. His expression hardened, intensity sharpening every line of his face. “No one must know about the siphoning,” he said meaningfully. “No one. Do you understand?”

Hamish dipped his head. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker across his rugged features. Dismay. His hand twitched once more near the knife at his belt. “Perfectly.”

An overwhelming sense of dread spread through me as he turned and left, silent as a shadow despite his size.

“He’s going to kill her, isn’t he?” My voice shook. I couldn’t stop it.

Aedric’s back was to me. He didn’t answer.

“The healer,” I clarified, panic tightening my chest. I prayed I was wrong. Prayed he would turn back with that easy, mocking smirk and tell me my imagination was running wild. That I was overreacting.

He looked at me then, and his face was a cold mask of focus.

My stomach lurched.

“No, Aedric! No—you can’t!” I rushed toward him, grabbing his forearm. The towel slipped loose again as I tugged at him, but he was immovable. Solid as stone. “Stop him! Take it back!” Tears spilled freely, hot and uncontrolled. “The wounded need her. Please, Aedric! Please!”

He cupped my face in both hands, his grip firm, anchoring. “If this gets out, you’re dead.” He gave a small shake, just enough to still me. “I’m sorry, El. But it must be done. I have to choose. Her life, or yours.” His eyes held mine. “Guess which one I pick.”

He released me.