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Malcolm misunderstood my hesitation. “This is the only way you’re getting out of here, Raveena. Give me this blood oath and you can be free.”
The gravity of the pledge I was about to take sat heavily upon my heart. I’d be setting forth a chain of events that couldn’t be stopped. Futures would be altered. Fortunes would shift. Father would freak.
Sersha had no heirs and the crown followed royal bloodlines. Malcolm was not a royal by birth, but he was mated to the Queen and may very well have been named privately as her successor.
Does it really matter?
As my bloodstream filled with heat at the thought of setting things right, I quickly decided it didn’t matter in the least. Father would simply have to deal with the knowledge his daughter was going to burn the entire debased Fae Court to the ground, Malcolm included.
Talk about blazing a path.
Clearing my throat, I took the deal. “In exchange for you freeing me, I vow to take Queen Sersha’s life … because it is the only way I know to end her perverted reign and protect the Faelands from her corrupted influence—but it will be through an official challenge. I’ll not act so dishonorably as she, sneaking an attack against someone I’ve ensured is defenseless.”
“And when you are asked for the grounds of your challenge?”
“If asked ... I’ll challenge her on the grounds of a blood-debt.”
“Blood-debt?”
“Yes.”
“Against whom?”
I lifted my chin as much as I was able, drawing in air. “Againstme. She’ll never admit why I was taken and tortured. And, since fae cannot lie, my claim cannot be disputed. She does, in fact, owe me a blood-debt.”
Malcolm crossed his arms. “Blood-debts are usually an even exchange. Blood for blood. Not blood for death. The exchange must be as equal as one can manage.”
“In a duel, if I inflict upon her all that has been done to me, she won’t survive it.”
While fae were like most species of Other, nearly immortal, their bodies weren’t quite as resilient in comparison. Some physical traumas could not be overcome. They could be killed more easily than, say, a demon or a shifter, because demons and shifters had the fastest natural healing abilities.
That didn’t mean fae were weak. Far from it. But inflicting every break, every bloodletting, every ounce of what I’d endured these past months upon Sersha—all at once—should be more than enough to kill her.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Malcolm.”
His gaze traveled up and down my battered body, then he nodded. “No, you’re right. If by chance you aren’t, she’ll come after you and you’ll have the argument of self-defense to end her. As smart as you are beautiful, aren’t you? I look forward to getting to know you.Allof you. Now open for me.”
There was no denying the innuendo in his tone, yet my lips parted and Malcolm placed the drop of blood upon my tongue. The coppery tang buzzed my system, like a king-sized dose of static shock.
I barely noticed when he opened a tiny cut into the tip of my finger. He knelt in front of my left hand. My arms couldn’t be lifted. Not only were they chained, they’d been broken and tied down in such a way they could not mend correctly. I knew both of my upper arms were misshapen.
Leaning forward, he closed his lips around my index finger. He suckled a second, then used his tongue to lick the wound. The magic of our deal crackled, then snapped into place, an unbreakable bond. My vision wavered.
Malcolm slipped his hands into his gloves and released the chain attached to the shackles on my wrists and ankles. Nothing held me to the table other than my own inability to move.
“I’ll have a healer come up after I figure out how to get this iron off. Your arms might be the worst of it, but you’ll need attention everywhere.”
Just wait until you see the frontside.
He was reaching for my wrists when a huge release of energy rocked the castle. The sound of water hitting rock echoed through the room. I had to pop my ears to get relief from the pressurized wave.
“Arturo!” he yelled.
The door burst open, slamming against the wall. Malcolm’s dark-haired personal guard ran inside. “Sir, we have a problem.”
Malcolm hesitated. “I’ll be right back, pet,” he assured, peeling off his gloves and tossing them onto the table.
Another wave of magic punched through the air, covering me like a blanket. It tasted like the sea.
