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The cold from the bare prison stone seeps through my bare feet and starts prickling. I struggle to move and can’t, not even a little.
Nottuza must’ve planted a command inside my mind that won’t allow me to come after him. There’s no other explanation for my paralysis. Even the people in the dungeons have come back to life. In the hallways, I hear the guards chatting while I struggle to take back control of my body.
Like a fish out of water, I open and close my mouth as I attempt to scream for the guards to stop the vampire from escaping with fates know how many dangerous criminals, but no sounds come from me.
It’s probably for the best, for I don’t believe any of these males would be able stop him. I couldn’t either, but that’s not saying much. I’m untrained in combat and more of a lover than a fighter, but my magic should’ve swayed him toward me, made him want to please me and return the prisoners to their cells. It didn’t work, and I don’t know why he’s able to resist.
I never met a male (or a female, for that matter) who could resist my magic’s promise of comfort and pleasure.
He’s dangerous.
Calculating.
Cold.
And a puzzle I must solve.
As soon as I can move. Damn him!
Go on, my flower.His voice purrs in my mind, and I feel the mental release. My knees wobble, my head swims, and I lean against the cold cell wall, looking up at the ceiling and beathing deeply so I can take a moment to compose myself and steady my rapidly beating heart before I approach the bars and listen.
The sounds of the chaotic and swift movements of the guards along with the shouting I expected never come. Instead, all I hear is guards distributing meals and prisoners chatting in their cells as they eat.
Approaching my cell is a cart with wheels, the same style cart we used in the palace before we switched to newer models that make less noise, and I wonder if I should make haste and leave, pretending as if I were never down here, or raise an alarm.
Clearly, something is wrong. By now, the commander would’ve raised the alarms, maybe even placed the entire underground under lockdown. But from what I’m hearing, these people are going about their business as usual.
Despite the cold, I stay a bit longer, hoping someone will react and call on our guards from above, but nothing changes, so I sneak out the same way I came in. Through the family portal leading back upstairs into the palace.
The moment I step into the well-lit hallway, I start pushing the planter back into place. It feels heavier than usual because my strength has waned. After purging my magic on the iron bench and then using it on the males in the dungeons, not to mention Nottuza, my biceps and thighs shake as I push. Yet, I can’t hide the portal anymore.
Annoyed, I collapse the portal completely, because having it out in the open like this is a security risk for our family. I must remember to tell El’jah about it. He’ll put it back in place along with the planter.
I dust off my hands on my clothes and start moving toward June’s tower, intent on asking her about the Nightbound Soldier, who can in no way be real. Suddenly, a tall, dark figure flashes in my peripheral vision.
I scream as I jump away, my shoulder hitting the wall.
“Dear fates, D’Artaron! You scared the magic out of me.” I catch my breath before I tell him the series of events that occurred in our dungeons. D’Artaron will get our guards to secure the prisoners, as well as the court.
The commander of our armies, who is also the head of our security until he hires someone he thinks fits the position (thousands of applicants later and none are good enough in his opinion), frowns, eyes flickering between me and the space where the portal used to be.
“Curious to find you in this part of the palace,” he says.
Well respected within the military ranks, with powerful magic that moves objects, D’Artaron is the kind of commanding officer every father wants for his daughter, every king wished they had commanding their army, and every princess hopes is in her security detail or a secret lover.
He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a handsome masculine face, with dark hair that reaches just past his chin. Amiable, brooding, and utterly unavailable, as well as chaste, our commander walks around breaking hearts as if it’s his duty.
It’s not. His duty is to my brother, the king.
All hope that I could gather as much information about Nottuza from June before I put together a plan on how to handle the vampire and present it to my brother vanishes. The commander will take over from here, and I’ll be lucky if he shares what he intends to do about Nottuza.
Maybe I can wrangle a span or two from him before he tells my brother about me visiting the dungeons and putting myself in a position where a powerful male could hurt me.
Et’enne will lose it.
The commander looks like he might lose it too, but I must answer him.
“Give me until tomorrow before you brief Et’enne.”
