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His fingers slipped from the back of her shirt but he shook his head and said nothing further as she turned back toward the flames, Shelby’s name already forming on her lips.
Idalia
Every step the horse took, Idalia rocked against Markus. She clung to him tightly just as any proper damsel in distress would. They didn’t slow and they didn’t speak as they galloped back to the castle. A few men had followed, but only the most trusted.
She breathed in the musk of sweat and pine that saturated his clothing. Underneath that was a slighter scent of something more sulfuric, likely the soap he used to bathe. The fur along his collar brushed softly against her cheek as she turned her face away to take in fresh air.
His coat was a mixture of brown and silver hair, likely from a coyote or wolf he’d hunted in the mountains before the borders were closed. Markus was a great hunter, or so she’d been told. The way he handled his horse and didn’t balk at the idea of rushing up to save his queen at least suggested he had an ounce of bravery and was skilled in a saddle.
As they slowed, Markus’s palm flattened against her back, his fingers close to, but not touching, her staff. “You were merciful, my queen.”
Idalia’s touch brushed through the fur of his jacket, stopping at his chest. The beating of his heart fluttered under her palms, a reminder of how delicate life was. Flames roared behind her, her staff whispering its greed. It wanted his life, it wanted sacrifice.
Every life that her siblings did not take, Idalia needed to take for them. Eternity was a give and take. How easy it would be for his heart to just… stop…
Unlike Ambrose, Idalia didn’t hear voices. At least not more than one on the rarest of occasions. That didn’t mean the urges didn’t arise that she was well aware were not her own.
Like now.
Markus had saved her life. Or at least Idalia was going to let him think he had.
“How so?”
Their breath mixed between them.
“Most don’t remember, but I do. I know what you could do in battle. You’re a warrior queen. You could have easily turned and wiped out the entire party behind you with one sweep of your staff. Yet you allow them all to live.”
“They were not all after me,” she mused with a soft smile. “My guard will sort them out soon enough and we will have the culprit. You can be sure that I will not show mercy to him.”
“I would hope not.” His hands had drifted down to her waist, one of his thumbs drawing little circles against her dress. His steady silver gaze was pinned on her, watching every movement she made. Did he think she was as much a predator as what he hunted in those woods?
“Who would dare harm someone as beautiful as you?” he continued.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Idalia’s red lips parted into a large dazzling smile. She’d always tried her best but this was one thing that Farah and her beauty had always won. Men fell to Farah’s feet when she smiled. They merely smiled back at Idalia.
Gloved hands appeared at her side, offering her help down from the horse. “My Queen.”
Tearing her gaze from Markus, she met Burke’s stone-cold features. Four other guards were stationed in a semi-circle around them, watching the forest as suitors were slowly allowed back through the pass. Many were chatting and smiling as if someone hadn’t threatened her life. That bright smile started to fall.
“Ah, thank you, Burke.” Letting the fur slip through her fingertips, Idalia gave Markus’s chest a small pat. “And thank you, Markus.” A tendril of power passed through easily and unseen.
Leather groaned as her weight shifted in the saddle, her body falling to one side and caught in Burke’s grasp. She’d kiss him right here right now if they didn’t need to keep up this bothersome ruse. No sooner had her feet touched the ground than Markus let out a gasping moan.
“Markus?” Idalia exclaimed. She was so used to having the swirling of fine skirts twisting around her legs with such movement, that without it the way she spun felt much less dramatic.
Burke was at her back, keeping her standing and stable. He knew this game well.
The reins of Markus’s horse were dropped, those large hands pawing at his chest as if something might burst from his rib cage at any time. A long wheeze escaped him, his eyes large enough that even the furthest of suitors could see the reflection of panic and pain.
It didn’t have to hurt, but if she’d allowed it to be painless who would have believed he’d just had a heart attack?
“Markus?” She stepped back up to the horse. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone call for a healer!” Burke yelled over his shoulders.
By the time the healer would arrive Markus would be dead. Both of them knew it.
Horses cantered toward them, kicking up fallen leaves as they came. Riders urged them forward, trying to get a glimpse at what was unfolding before them.
