Page 17 of Awakening

Trystan hissed between his teeth. “Let me go.”

“Not until I’m done with you.”

“Let. Me. Go,” Trystan ground out.

“I would do as he says if I were you,” the Prince suggested, his tone laden with barely controlled fury. Two guards flanked him, their swords drawn.

Garin sneered and stepped back. “Your Highness, we were just having a friendly conversation.”

“Arrest him.” Rage burned in Marc’s eyes.

“You’ve been warned, Trystan,” Garin sneered as one of the guards clapped his wrists in iron cuffs. They escorted Garin out of the garden.

“Are you all right, Trystan?” Marc asked, concern replacing the anger.

“I’m fine.” Trystan looked away, embarrassed. “He was much stronger than he looked.”

Marc reached for his hand. “I should not have left you alone.”

“I don’t need someone always protecting me,” Trystan snapped then sighed with a slight shake of his head. “I don’t understand what happened. I had little strength it seemed compared to his, and I’m not weak. I should have been able to free myself.”

Marc looked him over. He may have been a little shorter, but Trystan’s lean, muscular build spoke for itself. “Did he do something to you?”

“I don’t know.” Trystan puzzled. He lifted his leather jerkin and shirt and inspected the skin along the side of his torso. A small puncture wound bled lightly, the blood and surrounded area blackened.

“A poison-tipped blade,” Marc growled, his anger returning.

“He must have used some sort of paralytic.” The darkened, spider-like veins around the cut returned to normal as the infected blood oozed out. The poison pushed out, the hole in Trystan’s skin sealed, as if healing itself. Confused, Trystan lifted his gaze and met Marc’s equally baffled one.

“What are you?” Marc whispered.

A frisson of fear tore through Trystan. His throat closed up, chest constricting, as he stared wide-eyed at Marc. Trystan shook his head with short, rapid movements, and closed his eyes. “I should go.”

“Trystan. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Marc clasped Trystan’s hand.

Trystan opened his eyes and swallowed past the strain in his throat. “I don’t know what is happening, Marc.” Trystan thought he should say more and tell Marc what the man had said, but things already seemed strange enough.

“Neither do I, but you needn’t worry. I will not abandon you.”

***

The cottage was dark when Trystan and Marc arrived in the middle of the night. Stars blanketed the night sky, providing a celestial glow in the absence of the moon.

They’d taken a single, black horse and had ridden out several hours after dusk to ensure their departure went unnoticed. They stabled the horse and crept into the house.

A barely visible flash of steel swept upward and Trystan halted, the point of a sword primed against his chest.

“Father, it’s me.”

The sword fell way and a heavy breath sounded in the darkness.

“Trystan. Thank the Gods,” his father said. “What are you doing arriving several days early and in the middle of the night?”

“No lights, Father. I can explain in the morning. I’ve brought someone with me.”

“Who?”

“Prince Marc.”