Page 33 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)

Roksana

R eynard held me to his chest until the snap of the lock announced everyone’s exit. His muscles tensed, resisting my efforts to pull away, and when I looked up, a contented smirk tilted the corner of his lips.

Finally, when Lily’s shawl covered my exposed cleavage, he released me with a flourish.

‘There, now you won’t cause any trouble,’ he said in a lighthearted tone, but my mind was in a different place.

‘Please don’t hurt them, sire,’ I whispered, dropping to my knees. I wasn’t beyond begging. For Tova and Lily, I would sell my soul to Veles; prostrating myself before the king was nothing in comparison.

‘What . . .?’ Reynard’s confusion was obvious as he caught hold of my shoulders, lifting me up. ‘There’s no need for that, Sana.’

‘There’s every need. I meant no disrespect— they meant no disrespect . . . Even if Tova reached for his weapon, you can’t kill him . . . please,’ I begged, ignoring the spasming of the injured part of his face.

The king’s hand dropped off my shoulder as if I’d scalded him. I watched with growing concern as Reynard fought to control his breath, coming in laboured pants as he tried to slow it down.

I recognised the signs. He was using a technique taught by healers to manage pain, but what was hurting? The swiftness with which he applied the method could only be explained by extensive practice.

‘Roksana, you need to leave—’ he started, and I gasped in horror when the twitching scar contorted, his neck creaking as his muscles pulled so tight I could almost see their cords flexing under his skin.

‘No! What is going on? How can I help?’ I turned around, looking for something, anything, I might use, but Reynard grabbed my wrist.

‘No one can see me like this . . . the Royal Council . . . they think I’m . . . a monster,’ he hissed, and I bit my lip, ignoring the pain his tight grip was causing. Calloused fingers encircled my wrist like a vice, but Reynard seemed oblivious to the fact he was hurting me. ‘If they learn of it—’

His breath caught, but I’d heard enough. The Brotherhood weren’t the only ones in the midst of a power struggle.

‘Fine, then sit the fuck down and tell me what’s going on,’ I said, pushing him back.

He stumbled, falling onto his massive chair, grasping my hand as he fell and dragging me with him. With one arm immobilised in his grip and the other flailing around, I ended up straddling his legs.

‘Your poison.’ His voice was hoarse, as if the pain had rubbed off the veneer of humanity from him. ‘These spasms are your doing, Viper. And no one in all Truso can remove your venom.’

‘Wha—’ My mouth fell open. ‘Gods, are you telling me it is still inside you?’

As soon as I said it, a terrified realisation made my legs buckle, and I landed on his lap. I was alone with the king, who looked like he was dying from my poison.

Who’ll believe I’m not using the opportunity to finish the job?

‘It’s under the skin, in my eye socket. Ciesko isolated it, but whatever magic he used, it’s failing.’ He groaned, still fighting the spasms. ‘You killed me, Viper, even if I have a long and painful way to go.’

‘And none of you idiots thought to ask the source?’ I asked, reaching for his face. ‘I’ll purge it, but you must stay still.’

Reynard swatted my hand away before pressing his fingers to the large, angry scar. ‘You want me to trust you with something not even the arch healer could cure? I’ve only just discovered you did this by accident, and I still don’t know how far you’ll go to gain your freedom.’

‘Damn you and your stubbornness. You prefer suffering to letting me do the one thing I’m good at?!’

‘Please, Viper, just go. Tell the guards to call Riordan,’ he said, leaning forward, his breath shallow and fast. I knew arguing with him wasn’t helping, but he was sorely mistaken if he thought I’d leave him to suffer.

I couldn’t.

Seeing this powerful man on the verge of breaking changed something within me. Reynard didn’t deserve this after trying to help me, and I wouldn’t let him stop me from doing what was right.

‘Listen to me, you obstinate arse. I’m going to purge the poison, and you’re going to let me do it,’ I said when he finally looked at me. ‘If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. You’re the reason those men didn’t . . . Like it or not, I refuse to let you die.’

A moment passed before he answered.

‘Blood oath . . . swear . . . a blood oath first,’ Reynard ground out, his body sagging in the chair. I began to worry that Ciesko’s magic had failed and time was running out. Still, it was a lot to ask. Binding myself to the king with an unbreakable oath was the last thing I wanted.

But what if he dies because I hesitated?

The challenge in Reynard’s eye lit a fire in my chest.

He doesn’t expect me to do it.

‘Fine, as long as you swear no harm will come to Tova and Liliana—not now or ever, as long as it’s in your power to prevent it. Swear you’ll protect their lives, and you’ll have your oath.’

‘Setting terms even now, Viper?’ A bitter laugh escaped him, even as he struggled to speak. ‘You first. Say . . . that you’ll never use your abilities against me. And that you’ll never willingly leave me without me releasing you from your oath.’

‘Or I could wait until you lose consciousness and do what I want, you frustrating, annoying . . .’ I countered, shuddering when a quiet, agonised moan escaped his lips, and a golden ring appeared in his grey eye.

I’d read enough books about magic to know what it meant.

Reynard had wild magic in his blood, and it manifested under duress . . .

The question was, what kind of monster lurked under his skin?

‘Leave, godsdamn it.’

His words were more of a growl, and I felt the aether surrounding him shift, changing its form.

It would be so easy to walk away and call a healer.

They could contain the poison, maybe even neutralise it before it affected him again.

That was what Jagon would do—save his own sorry arse and leave a good man to suffer.

They think I’m a monster.

His words, a haunting truth to them, wouldn’t let me walk away.

I was the one who had hurt the king, the reason people saw him as a ‘monster.’ It was my responsibility to fix whatever I could—and it was breaking my heart to see him in such agony.

Besides, if Reynard swore the oath, he would be bound to protect my friends, not just from himself, but from anyone that threatened their safety.

Fate’s web tightened around me, demanding I bind myself to the king. Without hesitation, I took a small letter opener from the table and scored my palm.

‘I, Roksana Regnav, swear on the gods above and below with conscious intent to never harm Reynard Erenhart, the War King of Dagome . . . and to never leave him as long as I control my destiny or he releases me from this oath.’

Reynard nodded. His large, calloused swordsman’s hand trembled when he extended it towards me. I drew a bloody line across his palm and clasped it with my own.

‘I, Reynard Erenhart, swear on the gods above and below with conscious intent to protect Tova Orenson and Liliana Ordon and not punish them for current or future deeds as long as it is in my power to do so.’

Our blood sizzled as it mixed. The aether wrapped itself around our hands, green and golden threads entwined in perfect harmony, sealing the bond. That was all that mattered. Lily and Tova were safe, and I could help this royal idiot before the pain drove him insane .

‘So can I touch you now?’ I asked, and he nodded. I leant forward, placing a hand on the injured part of his face. ‘Please trust me. It won’t be easy, but I know what I’m doing.’

I’d never purged poison while sitting on a patient’s lap before, but the awkward position allowed me to cup his face in both hands while I inspected the damaged flesh under his scar with my magic.

The poison lay deep in the muscle, obscured by the healer’s intricate lattice, but I could still recognise my handiwork.

Reynard was panting hard, perspiration beading on his forehead as I probed the scar. It would be so much easier if whomever had helped him hadn’t isolate the toxin with such an impressive spell, but as long as I could reach it, my magic would do its job.

‘It won’t take long, I promise,’ I muttered, adjusting my hand to his cheek exploring the aethereal mesh trapping the poison.

Reynard groaned, but didn’t move. Instead, his hands drifted to my hips, holding me in place.

The artery in his neck thumped rapidly, his muscles straining, and I used my sleeve to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

‘I’m sorry. It will be better soon,’ I said, cradling his face in both of my hands.

‘Just do it, Roksana. I can take it,’ he said, the golden glow completely overtaking his eye.

His body shuddered under my questing touch. The enhanced contact helped me locate a flaw in the countless threads of aether interwoven to contain the caustic liquid.

That’s it! This is why Reynard is suffering.

It appeared the deadly mixture of nightshade, rosary pea, water hemlock, and wintergreen oil was seeping into his bloodstream, slowly killing him.

‘Gods, you’re a tough bastard. This would kill a bull,’ I muttered, pulling at a strand, trying to unravel the magic. His hands jerked, fingers digging painfully into my flesh, but if he could endure the pain, so could I.

‘I’m difficult to kill, but not immune to pain.’

His voice was barely a whisper, but I was astonished at the remarkable virility this man possessed.

Every part of him was powerful. The life force I saw in others were mere wisps in comparison.

Reynard’s body pulsated so strongly with life that I suspected it was destroying the delicate mesh that contained the poison.

Reynard Erenhart was something else, something I didn’t truly understand, but I was awestruck. I used his aether and my instincts as a guide, flowing with the primal force as it scoured the unnatural spell.