Page 74

Evander

T he throbbing in my head is miserable. Fucking pricks knew exactly what they were doing.

Father Mallory will have told Bria the usual lie, that Vaohr spoke to them and determined the blessing each individual receiving the rite would obtain.

But that prayer Father Newcomb spoke over me was no prayer at all. It was a fucking incantation.

The priests learned how to use spells to make the magic work for them.

They were not as precise as natural magic wielders but they managed just fine.

Long ago, when the gods graced the world with their presence, Edwin rounded up witches to help them.

The priests learned to harness it and found the right words to make it effective with their assistance.

In this instance, the rite was both a punishment and a warning shot.

My punishment was for leaving the capital and forsaking Vaohr.

It was no matter that I returned with their hunted.

I see it in Mallory’s eyes as he watches me.

He believes her to be his. Theirs . That they own her now.

It sickens me to think of what they plan to do.

“Your betrothed appeared quite concerned for you, Evander,” the priest drawls.

When I raise a hand to my head, my fingers return stained crimson, dripping with my own blood.

“I will assure her it was nothing. I feel energized already from his blessing.” Unfortunately, I already know how to lie to these people, how to float their egos and feed into their web of false beliefs.

“We need her, Evander. Her and the sister.” He drums his fingers along the marble bench, staring at the statue of Vaohr. “More than you understand.”

“I know exactly what you need her for. It’s why I have delivered her here to you, to Vaohr.” Does he think me a fool? I was part of the inner circle here that witnessed and took part in all of this.

Father Mallory stands, the crooked bones of his old hands smoothing down the folds of his robes. He clasps his hands together in front of him.

“Plans have changed, my dear boy. You have done so well. And because of that, Vaohr is asking more from you.”

The priest turns to leave. What does he mean by that? I delivered Bria to them, that’s what they wanted.That’s all they have ever wanted, to own the two halves of the prophecy, to keep magic to themselves, and make the rest of the world worship at their feet.

“Asking what exactly?” I query, realizing the question may seem too forward, but also needing to understand what he means.What we might be walking into.

The priest throws up a casual hand to wave it off, not turning back to look at me. “We will discuss with the king tonight. You should go clean up before dinner.”

My teeth clench at the dismissal. Rising to my feet, I blink, trying to clear away the blur in my vision.

The blast they hit me with was excessive and I imagine that’s what being struck by lightning feels like—a powerful surge that burns every inch of your body.

A show of power for Bria and myself. I really should rest before dinner and try to sleep off the fogginess in my head.

Being in the temple now brings back memories of the first rite I took.

Father Mallory himself presided over it and I was actually blessed with a boost of strength and speed before going out for a scouting trip to find people of power.

But that was before I learned the truth, before I saw the dungeons and watched the high priestess in action.

Now they granted me a show of power to prove they can keep me in check.

The sooner we leave, the better.

Maybe we could take Nimai tonight. Bria’s power has been surging. Anytime I’m near her I can feel the well of heat oozing from her. If she stays around these people too long, she is going to explode.

But first we need to see how guarded Nimai is. To determine what their plans are before deciding when we can flee. Bria and I will figure it out tonight. I genuinely wish we had Quinn here to help. His mind for strategy would come in handy within the walls of Castle Eccleston.

I stand on shaky legs and move slowly across the shiny, polished marble floor, careful to keep from slipping and injuring myself even worse.

Once outside, the glaring sunlight sends a fresh stabbing sensation through my head as I mount the horse and ride through the city, back to the castle.

I take a short detour and check to ensure the gaps in the wall are still there, that Braddock has been too engrossed in his own endeavors to fix them.

And thankfully, they are. We have a way out when the time comes.

To my surprise, and relief, no one is waiting for me when I return.

I manage a solitary walk through the gilded halls, up the winding staircase, and down toward our wing.

I make a point to check each guard I pass to see if anyone I know is currently assigned to the castle. Or to Nimai. That would help for sure.

Turning down the hallway toward our rooms, I see a familiar face leaning against a doorframe. The one next to Bria’s. And there is no stopping the tension that radiates along my jaw, the way my hands clench and unclench with each step I take toward him. Luthais.

He can’t be waiting for Bria again, can he?

His eyes shift to me then before scanning quickly to my forehead and back.

He grins and I shoot him a seething glare in return.

The gash inflicted during my collision with the hard marble floor tells him everything.

As I near, he pushes himself from the wall.

His body moves smoothly to completely barricade the doorway to my approach.

He's not barricading Bria’s door, but the one next to hers. Nimai. She has to be behind that door.

I fight all of my instincts, my fingers flicking along the hilt of my sword, itching to grasp the warm leather and sink the blade into him.

I could gut him where he stands. But I wouldn’t be able to get Nimai and Bria out without attracting attention.

Not right now while they are attended to by servants, readying for the dinner.

Of course he was assigned to guard her. He was the one who captured the girl, and he’s the favored guard of the king and Aamon.

“How was the rite?” Luthais taunts, his voice rife with contempt.

My hands clench again, the one on my sword gripping down into the hilt. I open my mouth, forcing my jaw to relax before speaking.

“It was an honor,” I remark, continuing straight past him.

His derisive laughter reverberates through the hallway as I push open the door to my bedchamber. No matter how much I would rather go into Bria’s room, there is no chance the servants would let me beyond the threshold.

When it comes to the battle with the king and his forces, Luthais will be there.

And now I wonder if I’ll get a chance to kill him, or if Bria will beat me to it.

The thought makes me smile. The ferocity of that girl is something else.

She is a force to be reckoned with. No damsel in distress, that’s for certain.

Dinner is not for another two hours, so there’s time for me to rest and wash up before escorting Bria.

I cannot forget that I am expected to be seen entering her bedchamber before we descend to the royal dining room.

Especially if Luthais is stationed next door.

Part of his job will be to report back to my father if I drift from the plan at all.

Dropping myself to the bed, I lie back, sprawling along the wide mattress.

I have yet to sleep in this bed and right now will be no different.

Despite the headache, there is a buzz rippling through me.

Anticipation and anxiety simmer below the surface as the time ticks down to dinner.

Nimai will be there, and Bria is going to have a difficult time controlling herself.

Not only does Aamon put her on edge, but she also nearly lost it earlier today with Luthais.

Maybe letting her drink the whiskey before going down isn’t such a bad idea.

It might not only help her play the part of a docile lady, but also calm her nerves a bit.

It is worrisome, though, to bring her in front of them without the drugs in her system.

Nimai will be drugged. Aamon revealed as much to me last night.

Getting her out in that state may prove tricky.

She may not understand what we are telling her, what we are trying to do.

And she will likely not be able to run or fight.

If she even understands, it will be pointless if she’s incapacitated…

unless Bria can cloak us well enough that I can carry the girl and get her out of this horrid place. Get all of us out.

She cannot have been here more than a few days now.

Aamon and Luthais never mentioned exactly when she was captured.

We would have heard from the southern camp if it had occurred much before we left, though who knows how many of them survived the fires.

And it would take them some time to recoup and travel after that.

But I know too well that it only takes a few days to break someone in the dungeons.

Especially once they are drugged and the high priestess gets ahold of them.

To my dismay, my mind goes there even though I try to keep the thoughts at bay.

I can’t help but wonder if she was beaten in the last few days, and if Luthais or Aamon were the ones to do it.

My jaw clenches at the thought of either of those men hurting her.

Luthais is an imposing man and plenty of men get off on smacking around young girls.

Not all of the guards are privy to what occurs below the castle, but Luthais absolutely knows and is involved in it.

And if he’s guarding her, it makes it more likely that he’s been expected to inflict pain upon her.

The only semblance of assurance I have is knowing I can inflict the same pain upon him come battle.

She was moved today though, and at least that gives me some comfort.

She is no longer facing any torture in the dungeons, nor will she ever again.

Likely, Aamon took the opportunity when we were out of the castle to get her up here, not wanting to risk Bria noticing.

Instead, he will wave it off that they moved her room to allow her to be close to her sister, if Bria were to ask.

Which she won’t. All their moves are planned out, approaching Bria in a tactical way.

It’s smart of them, showing that they at least have some inkling of what she’s capable of.

Rolling off the mattress, I make my way to the adjoining washroom, quickly realizing that rest is evading me.

The washroom is a mirror image to the one in Bria’s bedchamber.

Thankfully, there are buckets waiting for me and I proceed to dump them one by one into the giant tub.

One of the pleasant perks of being in the castle is having chamber maids who attend to the room in the morning.

I strip off my clothing, dropping my sword to the ground.

The mirror catches my reflection, and I can’t help but examine the gash along my head. It’s only about an inch wide, dried blood crusting along the edges, but the skin is already bruising and the pulsating pain in my head tells me I hit it harder than the wound shows.

The vanity has a multitude of drawers and I rifle through them, looking for anything I can clean it with but there is nothing. It must not be often that someone staying in the guest chambers of the castle needs to tend their wounds.

Turning to the tub, I slide into the hot water, letting it soothe my skin.

Soaking one of the fluffy washrags and pressing it to my head, I let out a hiss at the stinging sensation.

When I glance over at the table by the side of the tub, I notice the clothing folded neatly on the surface.

Another detail that tells me someone was in my room while we were out for the day.

All the more reason for Bria and me to remain together as much as possible with servants and others in and out of our rooms all day.

Steam ripples in waves off my arm and water runs in rivulets over the edge of the tub when I reach out a hand to touch the fabric.

Running a finger along the long black dress tunic, I notice it glistens with silver threading and accents down the front panels, the collar raised high.

Below it sit black dress slacks and black shoes that have been shined and sparkle with more silver.

The outfit is far more regal than any I have worn in the past. Black is fine for a typical dinner, but the king tends to be a fan of bright hues and glimmering gold, as could be noted in the way he had the entire castle decorated.

They were getting at something with this outfit. It resembles the darkness of the night, the moon, and the stars. It reminds me of Bria.