AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Graely did not hear the Shapeshifter at his door, but something else got through to him. He could almost see her piquant face, her lustrous eyes, filled with love, the love she had given him when they were last together…
Where was she? He had to get to her, see her one last time before he died.
The iron in his blood had taken him down. He knew, if left like this too long, the effects would not be reversible and he would die.
He had but one trick up his sleeve.
He could put himself into suspended animation, but he worried, could he wake from it? He had never done that before.
If only he could hear her. He strained to hear Frankie’s voice, and then he did hear something: it was close, so close a totally unfamiliar voice.
“Graely, you don’t know me, but you are desperately needed,” Darmon spoke and pounded on the door. “I can’t get this open without your help. I know they poisoned you with iron powder, but if you can manage some dark magic and get it open, you can trust me to get you away from here and help you.”
If he could get out, perhaps he could help Frankie somehow before he died.
Graely tried first to chant a spell, but nothing came out of his mouth. He tried to speak, and then gave up on one word, hoarsely he said, and it was barely a whisper, “Can’t.”
“You have to try. They are going to kill Crystal…” Darmon almost howled with distress. “You can get out. Go into a place in your mind where the pain can be managed just for a moment, and knock down this door with your Fae Magic. Do it, do it now!”
Graely felt a flash of hope, as his body went rigid with effort. The pain subsided for the flash of a moment, all because he played back Frankie’s voice in his mind, saw her naked in his arms, cooing to him. Frankie. Nothing mattered if he could just get to Frankie.
Through the iron walls, through time, through space, through the iron in his blood, suddenly, he heard her voice screaming at the top of her lungs. She was in agony. His beloved needed him, and here he lay, dying. Well, he wouldn’t die, until he had found a way to save her!
Her voice desperate with need reached into his mind, and yanked on every fiber of his being. He knew he had to find a way to get to her. He had no choice. He had to get to her—and by all that mattered, he would.
He crawled on his belly in slow degrees.
He didn’t speak as he had to preserve his strength. He didn’t cry out from the pain that beat his body. Excruciating bolts of lightning shot through him, the agony of being cut open alive felt real, so real, that he wondered if his guts were spilling onto the iron floor. Knives slashed at him over and over, but he crawled, he just kept crawling toward the iron clad door, and when he stopped, he summoned everything he had left in him and blasted it open with all the magic he had pulled to the fore.
Darmon heard Graely’s slow progress across the iron floor. Male to male, he felt for this Dark Prince, so different than his evil brothers. He heard Graely chant and stepped back with just enough time to jump away as the iron door clanged to the stone floor.
Graely had done this from the floor where he lay on his belly and collapsed from the effort.
Darmon went to him, Graely barely had a pulse.
“Don’t die, Dark Prince, don’t die. You are needed,” Darmon said sadly. He didn’t know if Graely could hear him as the Dark Fae lay there unconscious. There was only one thing he could do. He put his hand on Graely’s arm and shifted with him.
He arrived with Graely in the deepest part of the Shapeshifter’s Forests. He rolled him over on a bed of leaves and stood to face his pack. They were staring at him as though he had gone mad.
“I had no choice. He is dying because his brother shot him up with iron powder. They have abducted Crystal and mean to let her die, and the Dark King will come and destroy us all…”
Eslym arrived and softly said, “Let me try…I must atone.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
HE WAS LIGHT, he was Dark.
He was beyond measure or form, and he was, when in form, so stunningly beautiful that one could not but glance away from him. His beauty was more than a human, or even Fae could visualize, understand or look at without it hurting their eyes.
When in Fae form, he was tall, muscular, tattooed over neck, shoulders, biceps and chest. His hair was white gold, although once his hair had been black as coal. His eyes were the color of a dark sunset, glittering, seeing all, seeing nothing, sweeping past so much.
He wore leather pants and sandals and a gold torque denoting his status as a king.
His energy was profound and eternal.
He looked no more than five and twenty, and yet, his expression was that of an ancient who knew more than he wanted to know.
His essence had but one name, one thought, one need, Crystal.
