Page 5

Seething, Layala gripped his arm tighter, digging her broken fingernails into his forearm. She learned long ago people showed who they truly were, and their words might mean nothing. She believed bold action over pretty lies. “And what about Piper and Fennan? Do you want to see them suffer?” They went as fast as she could, which was significantly slower than she wanted. Her weak thighs burned with the effort as did her pride.

“Of course not.” He ran an exasperated hand down his face. “They are my friends but sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good. They’ll be freed as soon as you cooperate.”

“Greater good? You think raising the Black Mage is for the greater good? And yourfriends? I highly doubt they’d call you the same anymore.” She shook her head at the thought of them locked in a damp cell with nothing to eat or drink, cold and shivering. Or worse, beaten and tortured.

“Listen to me,” Aldrich said, jerking her to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Several pairs of guards in the grand foyer watched them. They didn’t flinch from their positions by the front entrance or guarding hallways, but they observed. Aldrich glanced around, as aware of them as she was, then met Layala’s angry stare. “If you don’t want to go back to that room, you’ll do what my father requires.”

“I’d much rather fall into an endless sleep than use my magic for that prick.”

Aldrich’s eyes flashed wide, and he lowered his voice so she could barely hear him. “He will never allow that. He’ll find ways to get you to cooperate. That stint in the tower was to weaken you, break your will. There is much worse to come.”

Pressing her lips into a hard line, Layala wondered why the hell he was telling her this. Was he pretending to be the good elf and his father the bad one? Playing mind games? He couldn’t truly believe he was her friend anymore or that he could be redeemed. “He can try.”

Aldrich sighed and dragged her along beside him, gripping her arm hard enough that she knew his fingers would bruise her flesh. “Mathekis is here. I doubt in your weakened state you can resist his power. It’s even a challenge for me.”

Layala gulped down the nervousness rising in her throat. Thane said Mathekis was the last person he wanted to face in a one-on-one fight, and he was the strongest elf she knew. “You’re doing all this to one day be High King, but there won’t be a Palenor left to rule. Don’t you see that?”

“My father and I have binding deals with Mathekis. We get to keep the rule of Palenor and the attacks will stop. This is how I can save our land from furthering the curse. I know you don’t see it that way, but it’s my intention.”

“Really? Has Tenebris even announced you as his new heir? Reina and Pearl called you Sir Aldrich not HighPrince. And have the attacks stopped?”

“He will. He’s waiting for the right time.” He shook his head. “And the attacks will stop after they get what they want.”

“Maker above, Aldrich, how can you be so stupid? And you think once the Black Mage comes back, he won’t take Palenor? He tried to take it before, but your ancestors weren’t fools. Your grandfather died in the war to save this land, and your father is just going to give it to him.”

“You’re wrong. The High King knows exactly what he is doing.”

“And that is?”

“The Black Mage will restore magic to our people. My father made a deal. You don’t care because you’re a mage, but the rest of the elves want their power back.”

“You believe Mathekis can guarantee that? Think, Aldrich.”

“Hedoesn’t even want to be what he is.”

It all sounded too good to be true. Tenebris didn’t care if other elves had magic. He wanted it for himself. And why would the Black Mage stop the pale ones when he was the one to create them? More lies, more coercions. Was Aldrich tricked into believing all this or was it all a ruse to get her to cooperate?

They approached the dining hall and the doors with ornate carvings opened inward. A pair of guards dipped their chins in greeting. Layala’s feet suddenly felt heavy, as if boulders kept her in place. What waited in this room…

Aldrich placed his hand on her upper back, urging her forward. With a deep breath, she took one step then another. Each felt like walking to her doom. The elf who murdered her parents, and took Thane from her, wore a green, high-necked tunic with embroidered ivy leaves and gold buttons down his center. A gold crown with emeralds and diamonds sparkled on his straight blond hair; the color gave his alabaster skin a little warmth. His slender build and narrow shoulders were nothing like Thane’s. But what bothered her most was the way he watched her, like a hungry wolf, waiting for a meal, hidden in fine clothes and the ethereal face of an elf.

Layala glanced around the rest of the room. She’d eaten here many times, but the decor had since changed, green tapestries over the wall of windows instead of blue, a new honey-oak table with fancy silver dishware, even the calming green plants had been swapped out for potted red roses, as if Tenebris wanted to clear away everything Thane touched. The artistic painting that had been on the wall was replaced with a life-size portrait of Tenebris in a gaudy gold frame. Worst of all, Tenebris sat at the head of the table where Thane once had. He gestured to the seat beside him. The same seat Thane said was for his betrothed. Maker, she wished he was here, that if she closed her eyes and opened them, he’d be there instead. But he wasn’t and she wanted nothing more than to grab a knife off the table and ram it through Tenebris’s heart.

A cold sensation trickled down the back of her neck, and she whirled around.

A pale one with skin and hair as white as sun-bleached bone, slid his black fingernail across her shoulder. “Hello, pretty,” he purred. Mathekis’s black eyes locked onto the lily’s mark on her upper arm, peeking out from the fabric of her capped sleeves, and he licked his coal lips. “We finally meet.”

She bristled at his touch, at his closeness, and leaned away from him.

“I won’t bite,” Mathekis said with a wicked grin, each tooth narrowed to a point, perfect for a predator. “Over the last few hundred years I’ve gained necessary control of my urges. Don’t worry, my lord needs you alive and unharmed.”

With a sneer, Tenebris stood and waved his arms over the table. “Have a seat.” His command was clipped and forceful, and the pinch of his mouth looked like he’d sucked on a lime.

Mathekis strolled into the room, graceful like he glided on air, and his long black cloak flowed around him like a pool around his feet. He took his seat and picked up a glass full of dark red liquid. He swirled it around, and the thickness of it made her gulp. It wasn’t wine.

“I said, have a seat,” Tenebris snapped.

Layala didn’t move. She rubbed sweaty palms across her dress.Run run run, her inner voice chanted. Her gaze drifted to the three exits. Could she make it? Even the open window letting in a warm breeze looked appealing. She was in no condition to fight a pale one—a cannibal, cursed elf. Ravenous and lethal in nature.