Absolutely not! Siva's mental voice is sharp with alarm. The Queen is dangerous, Domina. Even locked away as she is.
You think I don't know that? I snap back. But I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't fucking think with her voice constantly in my head. I need answers, Siva.
Then wake the King, Siva insists. Tell him. Let him help you.
He needs rest. There are so many problems. The Knights. His brother. The council. And he won’t want me to go. And I need to go.
But you think he'll rest better if you sneak off to Camelot in the middle of the night? The dragon's voice drips with sarcasm.
I'm not going to sneak off, I protest.
But she’s right, I had considered it. There’s something eerily familiar about the queen. Something that tells me she knows things that I need to know.
Really? Because that's exactly what you're planning. I can feel it.
I glare down at the tattoo crawling up and down my wrist. You don't know everything.
I know enough, Siva counters. And if you try to leave without telling anyone, I'm going to shriek so loud the entire palace will hear me.
You wouldn't.
Try me, the little dragon challenges. I am sworn to protect you, even from your own stubborn self.
I stand up and pace the length of the room, frustration building in my chest. The voice grows more insistent with each passing second, a relentless pressure behind my eyes.
YOU. MUST. COME. NOW.
"Fuck," I hiss, pressing the heels of my palms against my temples. "Just shut up for one fucking minute!"
"Melinda?" Hawke's voice comes from the bed. "Who are you talking to?"
I freeze, caught between embarrassment and relief. "No one. Just... talking to myself."
He sits up, the sheets pooling around his waist. His eyes find mine in the dim light. "You're lying."
Of course he can tell. The bond between us makes it nearly impossible to hide anything from each other—which is why I've been so careful to shield these thoughts for weeks. I didn’t want him to feel my anxiety. He’s carrying so much already. He worries constantly over me.
"It's nothing," I say, turning back to the tub. "Go back to sleep."
Instead, I hear him get up, his bare feet on the floor until he stands behind me, close enough that I can feel his warmth but not touching me. All I want to do is lean back against him and let him take away all my worries.
So let him.
Shut up.
"You haven't slept properly in weeks," he says quietly. "You think I haven't noticed?"
I close my eyes, guilt washing through me. "I didn't want to worry you."
"I'm your mate, Melinda. Worrying about you is part of the job description." His hands land gently on my shoulders, turning me to face him. "Talk to me."
I look up into his face, those piercing blue eyes that see far too much, and something inside me crumbles.
I have to tell him.
"I'm hearing a voice," I admit, the words rushing out. "The Queen. From Camelot. She's been calling to me for weeks, but tonight she's... she's screaming, Hawke. She won't stop."
His expression turns grim. "How long?"
