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The witch’s expression said he wasn’t convinced. “When I first met you, you told me you’d been held captive at the palace and had escaped. Gideon tells me you are a human and had been under the king’s protection from the start.”
“If by ‘protection’ he means locked in a room, unable to leave, then yes, I was under theirprotection.”
She glanced around at the other witches silhouetted at the edge of the forest, counting heads…fifteen…eighteen…she stopped at twenty-five. Gathered here was a small army. She suspected that roar she’d heard earlier had been Orik discovering her absence. And if so, there was a chance hewouldfollow the trail of her scent right to them.
If Orik came alone, he’d be ambushed.
Suddenly she wasn’t sure her not-so-grand plan was even a mildly good one. She’d been stalling, delaying Gideon’s exit, giving Orik time to find her and discover his involvement in this plot. Now more than ever she wanted to convince them that Orik wouldn’t come so they’d give up and leave. Even if it meant she’d be forced to go with them.
At least Orik would be safe.
Rathmort drew even closer. “I suppose he discovered you were a witch when you saved him from that curse, hmm?”
“A little before that,” she replied, sensing danger in the layers of his question. “He threw me in the dungeon to rot, presumably forever, until they needed my help to save him.”
“Curious, then, that just yesterday, I felt the wild abandon of your consummate pleasure.”
She blinked up at him. “You what?”
He snatched her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the glowing glyph. The contact was revolting. “I must admit, the secondhand sensation nearly dropped me to my knees on more than one occasion.”
She ripped her hand back, a sickly feeling flipping her stomach. “You…you can…”
“Feel you through my mark? Yes.” He began to circle her in a predatory way. “Right now, for instance, I can tell your pulse is quickening and you feel nervous. Afraid. Trapped. You should, because that’s what you are. I was astonished by the amount of power I sensed from you the day you peeled that curse out of Orik. Inconceivable. I can also tell you have no idea how to harness such extraordinary power. No matter. That much power won’t be a problem for you much longer. I’m going to enjoy drawing every bit of it out of you.”
She was too stunned to respond.
Before she could gather her wits, he reached out and spun her so that her back was to him. Then he clamped his arm around her neck, squeezing hard and nearly cutting off her oxygen. In her ear, he muttered, “Look alive. Your lover arrives.”
34
“Release her, Rathmort!” Orik instantly recognized the witch who held Jessie. He hadn’t changed much over the years aside from appearing a bit older. Meanwhile, Orik had changed quite a bit, having grown from child to man. By the look on Rathmort’s face, he had no idea who Orik was. He might know him as head of the king’s guard, but he appeared unaware of their past history.
“How does he know my name?” Rathmort hissed at Gideon.
The traitorous prick had the good sense to turn a little pale. “I don’t know.”
Orik sent Gideon a look that needed no translation. Before this night was over, he was going to rip him open from sternum to scalp.
“Orik.” Jessie gasped for air, digging her nails into Rathmort’s arm. “Get out of here. Run. They’re going to—”
Rathmort pinched his arm closed around her neck, cutting off her words and causing her face to go red.
Fury rode him hard. “My men are sweeping the forest. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.” He heard their distant roars, trying to follow his trail, but it was difficult in dragon form with the forest obscuring their view, especially during nightfall.
He had to figure out how to send them a signal.
If he’d been thinking straight, he would have brought a brigade with him on foot, but a sense of urgency had sent him sprinting after Jessie and Prince Gideon. And he hadn’t expected to greet such a formidable mob. He’d underestimated Gideon’s motives for taking Jessie. He’d suspected Gideon of acting alone, wanting some kind of revenge on Jessie simply because she was a witch. The last thing he expected was to learn the prince hadalignedwith the witches.
Although he did have the foresight to pause and call Rayu on his communicator and order him to organize a search and rescue party, they’d likely arrive too late.
“Release her and fightme,”he demanded. Jessie’s face was turning red, but she was still trying to urge him to escape with her eyes. As if he would ever leave her to face these vile scoundrels on her own. He’d rather die. And if that was his fate, he was sure as shit taking Rathmort with him.
The group of thirty some-odd witches began to close ranks around him. “Unless you’re a coward,” he snarled, glaring at Rathmort, all the wrath, rage, and violence he felt toward the man roaring into his gaze, saturating every nerve, every blood vessel, every molecule that made up his being.
This was the man who took his parents, killed them viciously, trapped him in the dark, caged him, tortured him, and who now held his woman hostage, threatening her with a maddening smirk on his ravaged face.
Orik felt his dragon stir dangerously, craving brutality, salivating for blood and vengeance, demanding righteous punishment and to feel the brittle crunch of bones between its teeth. He knew his eyes had flashed green. The viridescent color was reflected in Jessie’s beseeching gaze.
