Page 72 of Contested Crown

King Morrison—Howard—waved his hand at me dismissively. “There’s no more time. Cade, you must give me your decision now.”

Cade’s tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. “I need until morning. You’re asking me to get rid of my consort. This is no small task, no small request.”

Howard looked out the window. It was still pitch-black, so dark that the forest was invisible. When he looked back at Cade, the expression on his face was impossible to read, but I sensed it was empathy. As though Howard knew anything about what it was like to give up a consort bond.

“Until morning,” Howard agreed. He raised his hand, gesturing with two fingers, and Elizabeth stepped forward, nudging us up and out of our seats, out the door, and down the hall before we could say anything.

“You’re really okay with this?” I asked her. I had noticed her magic was pure. She didn’t share colors with anyone else.

“This is the way of House Morrison.” Elizabeth’s words were firm, unquestioning. “This is how it is.”

“Even if it isn’t like this anywhere else?” I probed.

Before I had time to blink, Elizabeth had grabbed my shoulder, her tattoos flowing out from under the wrist of her shirt and wrapping around my neck, lifting me off the ground until my toes dragged on the carpet.

“This is the best way. I would think someone as victimized by the mage houses as you would feel the same way.” Her eyes dragged over me. “Or do you actually feel affection for the man who owns you?”

The way she said it was so disdainful an automatic heat rose in my cheeks, and I knew what I would think. If someone had asked me weeks ago, months ago, I would have looked at a wolf bearing his master’s collar with genuine pity.

“Elizabeth. Release him.” Cade’s words were sharp, commanding. He had no room for patience. He was a future king. He was used to being obeyed.

Elizabeth’s magic flowed from around my throat, resettling back on her skin. I noted her long sleeves and high-necked shirt. Making a show of straightening my clothing, I leaned forward.

“And how close to being locked in the basement are you? How much more magic can you fit on your skin?”

When she looked at me, her expression was carefully blank. “I don’t need to worry about that. When it gets to be too much, I remove it and give it to someone else. Someone who needs it. I don’t waste it on brain-dead wolves who would prefer a collar to real freedom.”

She stalked forward, and Cade and I exchanged a look. His eyes were dark, unreadable. When we got to our room, the guard in front startled, looking between us and Elizabeth. The panic was clear in his expression, and I could smell it rolling off him in waves.

“You’re dismissed. I’ll take the rest of your shift.” Elizabeth jerked her chin, and the man straightened, bowing low, as though showing deference to a queen. “We’ll discuss your failure later.”

The man visibly flinched and maintained his bow as he backed away, until he turned, rushing down the hallway.

“You shouldn’t blame him. We were really sneaky.” I smirked, although something about the random guard getting punished for our transgressions didn’t sit right with me. “Full-onMission: Impossiblestuff. Shadowy exits and everything.”

Elizabeth leaned against the wall opposite our door and raised her arm, checking her watch. “You have five hours until dawn.”

I opened my mouth, but Cade wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged hard, pulling me into the room. He shut the door with a decisive click.

Then he sagged forward, knees giving out, and I barely had time to catch him. He trembled, expression blank. Without speaking, I guided him to the small couch in the living area, settling him before crouching in front, my body between his legs.

“What is it?”

“That would be me. One of those people in cells. That would be me.” Cade shivered, a full-body shudder that made his teeth clack together before he ground his jaw shut.

I shook my head. “You would give up your magic first. You would have been Elizabeth.”

Cade looked at me, raising his palm to cup my cheek and drag our faces together until our foreheads touched.

“No.” The word was a whisper, a promise, said with such certainty that I didn’t even doubt him.

“What are you going to do?” I breathed the words. Their listening spells could hear us, but this was exactly what they expected us to be discussing.

Cade shook his head, his forehead rubbing against mine. His eyes were shut, and he raised both hands to cup my face.

“You would be safe here.” I was saying the words more to myself than to him. “You’re not close to overfilling, not for a while yet. And when you are, they clearly have ways to manage it.”

Cade breathed a laugh, the sort of low chuckle that found no humor in the situation. “Safe.”