Page 10

Ryker

As I passed through the curtain of beads that framed the doorway, they swayed gently, making a soft clicking noise as they brushed against one another. Each line was woven with care, and the beads were strung closely together to offer the interior some privacy.

I pushed the strands aside and entered the small space without waiting to be invited. The curtain settled at my back, its faint rustling slowly faded, restoring the quiet.

Unnatural darkness cloaked the room, and I waved my hand in front of me, parting the shadows with my own.

A woman stood behind a counter, her head bowed, grinding something with a mortar and pestle. She lifted her head as I approached, her crimson eyes narrowed and calculating as she tracked my movements.

“Eleanor,” I rumbled, and a slow grin spread across the Blood Fae’s features that were too sharp to be called warm.

Eleanor straightened and dusted her hands off before she smoothed her long, raven-colored hair, which was a stark contrast to her alabaster skin. Her fathomless, blood-stained eyes gleamed with intrigue, and she pursed her painted lips as she considered me.

“Your Majesty,” she purred. Her voice was as smooth as silk but edged with danger. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She moved around her workstation. Her black gown, which was more suited to a ballroom than a workshop, clung to her every curve, accentuating her figure. I could feel the intensity of her magic radiating from her, and the way she held herself told me she was aware of the aura her presence cast.

Eleanor was among the last Blood Fae to serve the King. The Unseelie Fae were notorious for disposing of those they feared were stronger, and blood magic was one of the most potent.

I, however, had no such reservations.

Eleanor was powerful, but her magic was at my disposal.

Reaching into my pocket, I retrieved the rose gold collar and ran my fingers over the intricate design. The collar was made of thick, interconnected chain links, forming a smooth, continuous surface. The polished, reflective finish made it look luxurious, and I was sure it would be considered the height of elegance under different circumstances.

Eleanor’s eyes dropped to the collar, and an unreadable expression crossed her features. Her fingers twitched at her sides, as though she wanted to reach for it, but she held herself back.

“I want you to enchant this so that the wearer cannot leave the palace grounds unless I have removed it.”

Eleanor raised a perfectly manicured brow.

“What an odd thing to bring me, Your Highness,” she mused. “A collar can symbolize so many things.” She waited for me to elaborate, but I merely stared back at her. Relenting, she continued, “It symbolizes submission and control, but I’m guessing you already knew that?” she said, her tone bordering on mocking. “Who is it for?”

“That is none of your concern,” I replied curtly.

Eleanor’s eyes flashed with anger. She was not accustomed to being dismissed. Her considerable powers demanded respect, but not from me. She quickly concealed her fleeting outrage, knowing better than to stoke my ire.

“I can bind the object to you if that is what you are seeking?”

“Will that prevent her from crossing the wards unless I remove the collar first?”

“It will,” Eleanor said cautiously.

Her gaze roved over me, and she didn’t shy away from her assessment. More than I could say for others in the kingdom. Many recoiled from my nearness.

“May I?” Eleanor asked as she held out her hand for the collar.

My fingers brushed against her ice-cold skin as I passed it to her. Eleanor’s eyes narrowed as she studied it, her long nails tracing the individual links almost reverently.

“You must name your intent,” Eleanor declared.

“My intent?”

“Blood magic is drawn to intent. You seek control, or protection perhaps?”

Her gaze flicked to mine once again. “Or is it punishment? Whatever your reason for seeking my aid, you will need to state that purpose before I can perform the enchantment.”

I weighed her words. Cadence needed to stay with me for her protection, yes, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t seek to control her in every way possible.

She was mine.

Mine to command. Mine to keep. Mine to own.

“I seek her protection, her loyalty.”

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, savoring my next words. “Her submission. I want her bound to me so completely that it can never be undone.”

Silence fell between us as Eleanor contemplated my demands.

“I can bind her to you, ensuring she cannot leave as long as she wears this,” she said, holding up the collar.

“I can even infuse it with tendrils of my magic to encourage her loyalty and submission. But you must understand, Your Highness, complete devotion is an act of free will. I can only take her so far. She will still need to cross the threshold herself.”

I ground my teeth together, but nodded in acknowledgment. “Do it,” I demanded.

Eleanor eyed me curiously once more before nodding.

“I’ll enchant the collar so only your blood has the power to remove it, but you must offer a sacrifice first.”

“What offering?” I asked, suspicion lacing my tone.

Eleanor chuckled. “It’s nothing onerous, Your Majesty. A little blood will suffice.”

“Good,” I grunted as I rolled up my sleeve.

Eleanor disappeared beneath the counter and rummaged around her cupboards. When she reemerged, she held a bowl and a wicked-looking dagger.

She dropped the collar into the bowl and then lifted her gaze to meet mine as she waited expectantly. I placed my exposed forearm over the receptacle and nodded for Eleanor to proceed.

The sharp tip of the blade pierced my skin with a sudden jolt, leaving behind a burning sensation in its wake. I watched in fascination as crimson droplets of my blood welled to the surface before running down my arm and into the bowl. With each drop of my blood, the wound throbbed as if it had its own heartbeat.

Eleanor dipped her fingers into the metallic substance and coated the collar in my blood. Next, she used my blood to draw runes around the base of the bowl before marking the same symbols on her arms.

The candlelight flickered, and then darkness swallowed the room.

My shadows stirred to life inside me, feeling at home in the endless night.

Eleanor chanted in the ancient language of the Fae, and a bone-chilling cold seeped beneath my skin. Whispers surrounded me, as if the shadows were answering the Blood Fae’s call.

A gust of wind tore through the space, and the whispers grew louder, swirling around us like an enchantress of dark promises. My shadows continued to writhe, eager to join the dance of power that Eleanor was weaving.

Eleanor’s chanting intensified, and her commanding voice rose above the din. The runes Eleanor had painted with my blood ignited, casting a crimson glow across her face.

Concentration creased her brows, and beads of sweat lined her temples. I watched as Eleanor’s lips moved in sync with the pulsing runes as her chanting reached a crescendo.

Then, one by one, the candles reignited, the darkness slowly retreated, and the glowing runes faded. Silence replaced the eerie whispers that had tried to tempt me, and the room settled once more.

I cast a glance towards the bowl, which now only held the collar; all traces of my blood had vanished. When I looked up at the Blood Fae, her head was bowed, and she pressed her arms against the counter to steady herself as she regained her breath. She was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale, and sweat slicked her forehead.

If I were a good man, I would offer her a seat and perhaps a glass of water as I waited for her to recover from the vast amount of power she had expended on my behalf.

I was no such man, however.

“Is it done?” I pressed, impatience coloring my tone.

“Y-yes,” Eleanor wheezed.

I stalked towards the counter and plucked the collar from the bowl. It felt heavier than before, as though it carried more than mere magic — an unseen presence that demanded to be noticed.

“Good.”

I slipped the collar beneath my tunic and narrowed my gaze at the Blood Fae. My shadows filled my eyes as I pinned her in place with my stare.

“I trust you understand the consequences should you speak of this to anyone?” I said in a lethal tone.

She swallowed thickly, a tendril of fear spiking in her blood before she let her anger get the best of her.

“I’m not in the business of spilling secrets,” Eleanor bit out as though I had offended her. Then, remembering who she was talking to, she added, “Your Majesty.”

I rapped my knuckles on the counter. “Make sure it stays that way.”

I brushed past the beaded curtain. The sound of the beads clicking together followed me as I proceeded down the hall.

I might not have my mate’s submission yet, but I couldn’t deny the feeling of victory stirring inside my chest.

Oh, sweet Cadence, you never stood a chance.