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Whose face do you think she sees in her dreams, polished fool,it hissed.
Rune tightened his hold silencing the Ra’Voshnik and found Morbid arching a brow at him.
“Come now, Prince, we both know the Ra’Voshnik doesn’t want to devour her.” Morbid paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Unless that’s what they’re calling it these days.”
Rune exhaled. “Do you know her location?”
Morbid gave him an apologetic look. “My words fall on the ears that need to hear them.”
A growl slipped from Rune at Morbid’s non-answer. “There must be a Familiar binding that will allow me to speak to her the next time she calls me to dream.”
“I could offer a binding that would sever your beacon, offer up your queen’s location, and let you speak with her during your next dream.” Morbid counted off on his fingers, then his gaze raised to meet Rune’s. “But I need something from you.”
“What do you require?” They were of the same court. If Morbid needed something of Rune, he had only to ask.
“A blood debt.”
Rune was not in the habit of offering blood debts. They were binding, permanent. There was no escaping or twisting the debt. The bargain compelled you to comply. They carried through the centuries, concluding in one of four outcomes. The owner relinquished the blood debt, the death of the owner, the death of the one in debt, or the blood debt’s completion.
He’d accepted a single blood debt during his long life. One that haunted him. Casting a shadow over his young would-be queen. Rune steepled his fingers, knowing he had no alternative. “The price?”
“A favor.” Morbid shrugged.
Vague. But what choice did he have? “Done.”
The Familiar King stood, cutting into his palm with his thumbnail, offering it to Rune. “I offer a blood debt, in exchange for fashioning a Familiar binding, the Shadow Prince will owe me a favor.”
Had it been anyone else, Rune would have required more specific wording. He’d known Morbid his entire life. Trusted him. Rune stood, grasping Morbid’s fingers lightly. “I accept.” He bent, running his tongue over Morbid’s palm. Straightening, he swallowed the blood, sealing the debt.
Morbid stood, pulling off his magenta scarf to wipe the remaining blood as he healed the cut. Then reached into his pocket, removing a simple obelisk made of lepidolite, and set it on Rune’s desk. Only a few inches tall, it looked insignificant.
Morbid inclined his head at Rune. “Your blood will initiate the binding.”
“Tell me when you find her.” Sadi slid her hand down his back as she stood to join her father.
The Familiar vanished, phasing out of his realm.
Rune took the obelisk and returned to his room. He placed it on the nightstand beside his bed and allowed the Ra’Voshnik to surface. Black flooded his gaze, and his nails became black tipped claws. He dragged a claw over his wrist, his blood forming a thin red line. Turning his wrist down over the obelisk, Rune made a fist as drops of blood fell over the crystal.
It pulsed, coming to life. Rune hissed as Familiar magic stabbed into his mind, hooking deep. The painful sensation, reminiscent of a mental snare. One he couldn’t escape.
Rune scarcely made it onto his bed before the spell overtook him. His final thought as he closed his eyes were of his brother Alister and the eight-hundred-year-old blood debt that hung between them.
Darkness help Alister if his brother proved foolish enough to oppose him.
Chapter seven
Fayeleanedherheadback on the smooth rocks. She closed her book using her finger to hold her page as she stretched her arms overhead. She’d been soaking for more than an hour. Standing, Faye abandoned her spring for a lounge chair. After drying off, she draped her fluffy robe over her as a makeshift blanket.
She set the book down, splayed open on her lap to hold her page. The sound of running water and the birdsong overhead lulled her. It was still early afternoon. Faye yawned, covering her mouth. She could afford a catnap. She closed her eyes, listening to the forest.
Falling asleep before she realized.
A dream arose. This wasn’t like her usual dreams that took shape softly. This was jarring, snatching her to another place. A steady, low roar seemed to come from all around her.
She grabbed at the ground to steady herself. No, not ground. This was too soft. Faye blinked, realizing she lay on her stomach in a large bed covered in a heavy blanket. The dark silk sheets snagged on her nails.
She pulled her hand free, tearing the silk. Faye examined her nails in disbelief. They were thicker and curled, ending in sharp points. Claws?
