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As the siblings paused mere feet before us, their eyes raking over me, I struggled vainly against Garrick’s grasp. Something dark churned in Preston’s eyes. He took another step closer, his boots crunching in the snow. Extending his arm, he seized my chin with one gloved hand, tipping my head to inspect me like I was an animal at a livestock exhibit.
“Just a delicate little snowflake,” he muttered, as if to himself. “A shame that our magic was wasted on the likes of a sad little mortal like you.”
Both his and Nerissa’s eyes snapped to my bleeding neck in the same instant. Preston inhaled sharply. “Smells about as appealing as an animal.”
But Nerissa’s pale face had turned vicious, her taunting manner melting into something far more terrifying. “Where is he, Garrick? A failed hunter must be punished. Find and dispatch of him.” She snapped her fingers as if she really were commanding a dog, and Garrick’s arms released me. Nerissa’s gaze flicked to her brother, who still gripped me painfully. “He’s your servant. Would you like the pleasure of punishing him?”
Preston snorted. “No, you and your dog can have your fun.”
As Garrick and Nerissa trudged back toward the cabin, where I assumed the winged fae was still encased in ice, Preston lifted his hand in a silent signal. His other remained firmly on my chin. I had the urge to struggle and try to flee, but I knew better than to give into the impulse. Years of being taunted and mockedand feared had taught me to become quiet and unobtrusive. I suspected such behavior would serve me equally well among the fae. Fighting back would make myself a more interesting challenge, a plaything they wouldn’t soon tire of.
At Preston’s gesture, several guards slunk from among the trees, naked blades shimmering at their sides. Two carried shackles that gleamed a strange bluish color when the light caught them.
“Restrain her,” Preston said, grinning wickedly and releasing my chin. He stepped back to allow the guards to flank me, seizing my arms.
This time, my magic responded to my terror, and I didn’t try to resist it. Maybe I had no choice but to try to run, even if it encouraged them to give chase. A chill rippled through me, and the breeze picked up, whipping stinging snowflakes against my cheeks.
“Tsk, none of that now,” Preston taunted. “Resisting and running will only give us reason to let our dog chase you again. And he does so love to hunt.”
As if to punctuate his statement, a ragged scream rent the air, echoing through the cabin behind me. My heart dropped as the scream cut off.
The guards tugged my arms behind my back and snapped the shackles around my wrists with a clank. Instant pain burned through me as the cold metal brushed against my skin. I hissed through my teeth and my eyes watered as the agony intensified, like countless hot coals searing along my skin, their heat burrowing into flesh and tendon and bone.
“Forget-me-nots melded in with our metal,” Preston explained, meeting my gaze with a hungry look. Now that he was nearer, his eyes looked red. The color of dried blood. He leaned forward, his breath caressing my face. It smelled of decay, and I choked back a gag. “The flowers have an interesting effect on faemagic. You essentially forget how to use your power—and in that forgetting comes enormous pain. To be cut off from something that lives in your blood is to lose a piece of yourself. Awful, is it not?”
My very bones ached, every muscle in my body going taut with the agony churning through me. Now the burning seemed to go even deeper than my bones and my blood, consuming organs. Devouring me. I struggled for breath, my lungs heaving with effort. My vision started to tunnel, and I wondered if I’d pass out right there, collapsing in the snow.
From the corner of my eye, I was aware of Garrick and Nerissa returning. Blood splattered Garrick’s clothes, and when I tried to meet his gaze, he turned away, his expression shuttered. Nerissa strode closer, holding...a severed finger. My stomach cramped as she lifted it high, showing off the gruesome, bloody thing like it was something to be treasured.
“Care to go collect a trophy, brother?” she asked Preston.
The world swayed and lurched around me. I keeled over, heaving the pitiful contents of my stomach—which was mostly bile—into the snow.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Preston muttered, grabbing me by my injured shoulder. Fresh pain lanced through me. His gloved finger traced the blood trickling down my neck before he lifted it to his nose, sniffing. Grimacing, he wiped his glove on his trousers. “The stench of mortal blood. As disgusting as I thought.”
I tried tomove,but I was frozen in place. Horror and an aching, unending sense of betrayal and loss slammed into me. The agony from my shackles reached a peak, until I thought maybe I was being shredded apart or burned alive, and this time, I screamed.
I screamed and screamed until I was breathless, until my throat was raw, until Preston scowled, drawing his blade andlifting the pommel over me. There was a flash of pain as it struck the back of my head, and then darkness.
CHAPTER NINE
Piercing sunlight jolted me awake to find my head throbbing and my entire body aching with the memory of my agony. Worse still was the pain punching my heart.Garrick.
I scanned the stone-walled room I occupied, with no visible entrances and exits but a high window letting in light from an overcast day, and a single wood door. On my right was a chair resting before an unlit fireplace, lending to the room’s chilly atmosphere. To my left was an open entryway leading to a windowless washroom with a copper tub. Glancing down at the bed I was reclined on, I found fur blankets draped over me. My boots rested on the floor at my bedside, but there was no sign of the knife I’d possessed. Either it remained in the cabin where I’d left it, or the royals had confiscated it.
