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“Why did you leave me?” It hurts to speak past the emotion choking my throat.
“I didn’t.”
“But the sorceress said—”
“She lied.”
When Rook whistles, Bolt trots between the trees. The black mare snorts and paws at the ground. The muscles in her flanks twitch with impatience. She’s more than ready to leave this cursed place.
That makes two of us.
Rook lifts me onto Bolt and vaults into the saddle behind me. His strong arms bracket me as he takes the reins. I lean back against the cool leather of his armor. When he clicks his tongue, the horse leaps into a canter.
We ride in silence. Wind dries the tears on my cheeks.
Rook keeps to the shadows, never returning to the Emperor’s Road. He delves into thicker and thicker forest. Trees crowd the path and break the moonlight into shards.
He brings me to a ruined tower entangled with roses and thorns. The tower overshadows what might have been a castle before it was destroyed ages ago. Moss cloaks the broken walls and fallen stones.
I don’t see an entrance to the tower anywhere. Rook dismounts and takes out his dagger. The blade glints as it slices his palm. Bleeding, he flattens his hand against the stones of the tower. Rose vines twist away, writhing like snakes, and bare an arched doorway that I swear wasn’t there a moment ago.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“Hexfall. A royal castle, cursed a long time ago.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not any longer. I’ve hidden here myself.”
His hands grip my waist before he lifts me from the saddle. He takes Bolt by the reins and leads the mare into the tower. The horse doesn’t seem spooked by the darkness, though she rarely seems spooked by anything. I’m more reluctant to enter.
Rook sweeps me into his arms. “Inside,” he commands, which seems redundant.
He carries me over the threshold and into the tower. Rustling, the roses crawl over the doorway and close us inside. Moonlight shines through a narrow slit of a window. There’s not much at the bottom of the tower: fallen leaves and a stone staircase that winds upward.
Not even breathing hard, Rook carries me up the stairs. They spiral higher and higher until we reach a room that’s open to the sky. Roses creep inside, the floor hidden under a lush carpet of red petals. The stairs continue upward before crumbling into nothingness. The tower must have been much taller once.
He growls something inarticulate under his breath, then says, “You’re hurt.”
I glance at my hands. “I’m healing.” My wounds are closed and the phantom pain in my wings has faded.
After he puts me down, he traces one of the aellurium chains with his fingertip. It doesn’t yield beneath his touch like it did before.
“The sorceress did this to you?” he asks.
“She did.”
“She twisted the enchantment.” He shakes his head. “I can’t free you yet.”
His thumb lingers where my pulse pounds. I shiver with repressed desire. This isn’t my dream, though, and I’m restrained only by my own fears.
“Rook.” I don’t know why I’m whispering when there’s no one else to hear.
Wordlessly, he removes his weapons and begins to unbuckle his armor. Piece by piece, he drops it on the floor. He peels his shirt over his head and flings it away as if it offended him. When he unbuckles his belt, I reach for his hand to stop him.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He tugs the belt loose and tosses it aside. After he strips off his leather trousers, he’s utterly naked. He drops to his knees, his muscular body stunning in the moonlight, and he resembles a statue of a demon paying tribute to his queen.
