Page 193 of The Chains You Defy

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t open my mouth anymore. I’d lost all control over my muscles.

Cantarlann rewarded me with a beautiful smile, and cheers all around me strove to convince me I’d made the right decision.

No one noticed the dread paralyzing me.

Stop.

Please—

No.

Help me—

Please, Dion—

Fingers danced over the back of my neck, and I barely realized a weight falling away as someone took off my collar.

Everyone could see my divine marks—

No—

Stop—

Before I could attempt to voice my protests again, all thoughts dissipated—and every single person present began tosing.

“Fuck.”

“Dion, what is wrong?”

Bending over my horse’s neck, I panted because of a searing torment shooting through my chest. But I wasn’t hurt. No, this was phantom pain because Nayana was suffering somewhere.

“Faster, Antas,” I coughed, fury driving the sensation away until all I could see was crimson streaked with black. My magic was already leaking out of me, and a cacophony of internal roars demanding to protect my female threatened to overpower me.

“Listen to me, Dion. Whatever you do, you have to control yourself until we are able to assess the situation.”

Silence.

I didn’t even dignify his bullshit with an answer. Every last shred of reason had been burned away by the blistering anguish moments ago.

“Promise me.”

My head flung to Antas, and I growled so viciously that my horse bucked, but I was too good a rider to be fazed by the animal’s antics. “Ask yourself. Would you have been reasonable if this were about you and Lile instead of Nayana and me?”

My uncle flinched as if I had hit him, but I couldn’t care less. He, of all people, should understand what I was suffering through.

Enough. Faster.

On the horizon, the giant bridge leading to the island housing the Cuirt an Ghra appeared, and I snapped. Mid-ride, I jumped off the steed’s back and hurled myself into the nearest shadow.

The last I heard was a really colorful curse from Antas.

My vision was blurry as I swayed next to Cantarlann, fighting against my drooping eyes.

My memory remained patchy as I fused with the colors, the smells, the light, the tastes, and the sounds. Melting, dissolving, evaporating.

I barely noticed being led to the dais where those giant bright fae-creatures stood in a circle, each of them a miniature sun ready to burn me alive. My guide presented me to them, and they, one after the other, pressed a light kiss onto my forehead, branding me with an invisible mark descending right into my very essence.

A million voices coming from everywhere sang a tune so hauntingly beautiful I yearned to cry.