by C. A. Szarek
They were linked, and it churned her gut.
Access to her magic had given him access to other things, like her name. If he could read her thoughts, he hadn’t said, but she tried to remember to build walls in her mind at all times, just in case.
Elissa’s stomach roiled and trepidation rolled over her body. She shuddered and hugged her knees to her chest on the small pallet while fighting the urge to rock.
What she’d been taught about blood magic from the king’s mages was that it was dangerous and dark. It’d been forbidden by all human and elfin mages alike, ages ago. Evil that couldn’t be redeemed.
“Good morning, my pretty.”
“Stop calling me that,” Elissa barked.
Drayton chuckled. “Stand, and come to me.” His expression was pleasant, but he commanded.
She shivered and reluctantly rose. His temper was lightning fast, and she had no ability to protect herself with magic.
“I have news for you.”
“You’re letting me go?”
He laughed again and flashed an evil smile. “Nay. It’s time for my plan to move forward.”
“Plan?”
Drayton ignored her and pulled her to him. “Ah, all in due time, my Elissa.”
That’s not any better than ‘my pretty.’ But she didn’t say it.
He stroked her cheek. Elissa didn’t yank away. The last time she had, he’d slapped her hard enough to knock her out.
They were of equal height—which made him short for a man—and he was lean. His salt-and-pepper locks should’ve confirmed his age, but didn’t. His eyes had the same unnatural black ring around brown irises, like his aura. His face was a mix of old and young, lines and smoothness.
She didn’t know why, but she could guess it had to do with blood magic. He could control all four elements like her. He was strongest in water, but his power with fire was almost equal. What he hadn’t told her, she’d gleaned from watching him.
Drayton leaned in, inhaling right above her ear. “Hmmm, you smell so good, my pretty. This shall not be difficult at all.”
“What won’t?”
He didn’t answer. Just settled his hands on her shoulders and she tried not to wince.
Elissa’s stomach pitched, bile burned her throat. She tugged away from the evil mage and bent over to vomit. She panted through waves of nausea and tried not to let her knees buckle. Whatever had been in the food he’d served her had made her sick since the night before. The nausea was intermittent, and she had no desire to eat again.
“Come here,” Drayton called.
“What, you’re not going to ask me if I’m well?” Her tone wasn’t as dry as she would’ve liked, but Elissa obeyed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and wishing for water.
“Hush.” His voice dropped and he rested his hands on her shoulders like he had before she’d needed to throw up. The old man closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
A spell swirled around them and Elissa’s limbs warmed. The stone on her bracelet shot a column red light. Her magic moved unnaturally beneath the surface of her skin and she trembled. Drayton’s magic was there, too, with evil jostling her, and she fought the urge to vomit again.
Moments of silence passed, and finally, Drayton’s eyes flew open, his expression severe. His gaze compelled hers to remain locked with his, even though her body fought it, fidgeting in his hold.
“You’ve had a lover.” He narrowed his eyes.
“What business is it of yours?” Elissa wanted to sound just as harsh he had, but failed. She didn’t want to think of Alasdair, because then she’d worry about him. Question why he hadn’t found her yet.
“Is he a mage?” Drayton demanded.
“Why?”
“Answer me, my pretty. Or I shall get angry.”
“No. He has no magic.” She wasn’t about to admit Alasdair was a knight.
The mage cursed and tightened his grip on her shoulders. Until his long fingertips bit into her flesh through the material of her gown. He shook her, and Elissa winced. She fought him, but Drayton didn’t release his hold. “You’d better hope it doesn’t matter. That your magic is powerful enough.”
“For what?”
He sneered, pushing his face close enough to kiss her. “Because if the child you carry has no magic, it’s of no use to me. You die sooner.”
Elissa flushed to her toes. She couldn’t focus on his death threat. “Ch-ch-child?” Her heart thundered until her temples throbbed and her head spun.
Drayton whirled away, grumbling. His cape flew up around him and he disappeared around the corner.
She backed up until her heels hit her pallet. Collapsed in a ball, unable to fight tears. Then a sob.
A child?
Alasdair’s child.
She plastered her hand to her lower belly.
It hadn’t been long enough for her pregnancy to show, but now her queasiness made sense. It’d started on the road, and she’d put it off to not having ridden Storm since she’d run from Castle Aldern.
“So it wasn’t Drayton’s food, either.” Her eyes clouded with tears again, so Elissa crushed them shut and forced deep breaths.
She was trapped in a cave with a mad man who’d murdered her family, and she was carrying a child.
The child of the only man she’d ever loved.
What about Lord Cam? Surely he wouldn’t marry her now. She wouldn’t be able to hide it, nor would she trick the duke into thinking the child was his after they wed.
What would Alasdair say?
He’d proposed.
I still can’t marry him.
He didn’t love her.
Elissa swallowed and sat up, rubbing her tears away. She couldn’t worry about the duke or her knight. “I have to get out of here.” Her whisper echoed off the walls surrounding her, but it didn’t lessen her resolve.
She rested both hands over her womb.
I’m not alone.
But her child was in as much danger as she was. Drayton would use blood magic to steal her powers. Elissa knew it in her gut. If he drained her, it’d kill her and the baby she carried. Mischief, too.
“I’m not letting that happen.”
Now she had something more to fight for.
I will get out of here.
Chapter Thirty-five
His lass, his Elissa was spoiled. Ruined.
She was highborn. Unmarried. A lady.
Drayton had assumed she was pure. But she carried another man’s child.
Whore. He made a fist. His pride was stung, when he should be grateful.
He’d planned on using magic to determine when she was fertile, but it hadn’t been necessary. Drayton had seen her vomiting the night before, as well as heard her earlier that morning all the way from his pallet.
His probing spell confirmed something already quickened within her womb.
If the child was an elemental, fine. If it wasn’t, waiting for the birth was going to be a waste his valuable time. Eating up months he could barely afford. Drayton could forget his plan and take Elissa’s magic now, killing her and the child, or wait…and give it a chance. Given the depth of her powers, it was unlikely she would birth a magicless babe.
He paced the cave floor in front of his dais, pivoting around to start over when he ran out of room. Pressing his fingertips to his lips, he forced himself to breathe normally. “This is good.” He wouldn’t have to impregnate her himself. Wouldn’t have to sacrifice valuable energy.
Although, he’d not rutted a woman in a long time. In his younger turns, he’d had a healthy appetite for the lasses. Perhaps he should partake of his Elissa, no matter the child. For his pleasure. Age and weakness had stolen his drive for anything but magic for so long. A change could be good for him.
She’d fight him, no doubt.
Drayton smiled. A good fight wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it? Now he had her magic to help strengthen him, although the bracelet didn’t allow for full access.
/> Nay. Someone else had already had her first.
He scowled. Shouldn’t care that she wasn’t innocent—after all, his plan always included her death—but the idea of another man moving in and out of her, planting his seed, grated on Drayton’s senses.
The half-breed had assured him the lass was brought to him untouched. By him or his associates, of course. It hadn’t mattered. He’d wanted Elissa for so long, and now he had her. Charis had told him she’d been with a party of knights and men-at-arms from Greenwald. She’d been headed to Dalunas where she was to marry the duke. Obviously she and the duke hadn’t waited to rut.
Details about the journey he’d plucked from her mind when he’d learned her name, but he hadn’t gleaned anything else from her. Elissa’s mind was strong, and she was stubborn. Kept him out with robust mental shields.
He’d had her for three days.
Strong as she might be, he’d break her down. Soon, he’d know everything about Elissa Durroc—inside and out, if he took her. Besides, intercourse would strengthen his link to her magic. While they had no interruptions, he should do it.
Drayton had half-expected his hirelings to reappear the previous day. Surely the spell he had on the chest had worn off by now. He’d used a great deal of energy to disguise that rubbish.
He chuckled.
The coin he’d paid Charis over the months had been real, but he’d not possessed of the promised price for Elissa—nor would he have parted with that amount of gold if he’d had it in his coffers.
“Ah, well, it matters not.”
If—probably when—the half-breed returned, Drayton was ready for him. He had protection magic in place, including a scatter spell that’d make Charis and his lads forget where his cave was when they got close enough. The area was riddled with caves, so it would take his former hirelings a while to find him anyway. And, if they did manage it, he now had Elissa’s magic to protect himself. The bracelet would allow that much.
Drayton sighed and stepped onto his dais. He adjusted his cape and sat on his throne. “Soon. Soon.”
Or would it be? Could he risk waiting for her child to be born?
As the pregnancy advanced, perhaps he could use magic to determine if the child was an elemental. He’d have to research a spell.
Male or female mattered not. Only magic mattered. The right kind of magic, of course.
His Elissa would prove worth the risk.
Perhaps over the following months, she’d gain an appreciation for him. Drayton would properly care for her, after all. If she never came to him willingly, it wouldn’t matter. He’d always liked the lasses who’d put up a fight best. His advanced turns hadn’t changed that.
He steepled his hands in front of him. Even though the child she carried wasn’t his, they could still find pleasure together.
Her magic was already making him stronger.
Drayton smiled.
And started to plan.
* * * *
The crushing disappointment of Hadrian’s inability to help Lucan communicate with Mischief from his home, four days’ ride away in Berat, took the wind out of all the men’s sails. But Alasdair refused to let it get him down.
He’d find Elissa—with or without his brothers’ help. But he wasn’t delaying a moment longer.
He stuffed supplies into Tess’ saddle bags. He’d only been able to wheedle a day or two of food from Lord Marlock’s kitchens, but he’d make due.
Alasdair wasn’t alone in the small courtyard of Castle Marlock; it was barely dawn. Mischief had followed him without question. As if the wolf could sense his plans. Elissa’s bondmate sat next to Tess outside the stables. The beast would lift his nose and sniff the air from time to time, whining, as if to hurry Alasdair’s preparations.
“Not long now, lad,” he whispered, tugging his pack shut and giving the wolf a half-smile.
“What’re you doing?”
Alasdair had expected Leargan. He’d been bunking with his captain and their brothers in one of the castles’ small guest quarters. The rest of their men slept in the hall, and some in the stables.
He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. The last thing he needed was a confrontation with the Duke of Dalunas. He turned slowly, and met Lord Cam’s blue eyes.
The duke was already dressed for travel. The sword at his waist wasn’t the decorative variety. He was ready to fight—too bad it was for Elissa.
“Going to find her. I won’t wait and debate magic any longer.”
“I don’t disagree with you, but you can’t do it alone,” Lord Cam said.
Alasdair clenched his jaw. “Mischief’ll sense her when we get close.”
Doubt flashed across his expression. “I wish it was that simple.” He shook his head. “I believe we need magic. It’d be foolish to leave without young Lucan.”
“We?”
Lord Cam narrowed his eyes. “I’m going with you.”
Alasdair shut down his quick denial. He had neither rank, nor right, to assert such things. Instead, he swallowed and straightened his shoulders. “I’m leaving now.”
A shout caught their collective attention. Lucan was running toward them top-speed, as if he’d known they’d just been discussing him. “Alas!” the lad panted.
“What is it, lad?” Alasdair rested both hands on Lucan’s shoulders when he skidded to a stop beside him.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“And?” Lord Cam came closer.
“I probed for magic.”
Men started to pour out of the oversized castle doors. A few of his brothers jogged toward the stables, men-at-arms from Castle Marlock, as well as Lord Cam’s men, on their heels as they all went to get horses. The Duke of Tarvis’ knights weren’t far behind.
Tess neighed and shifted her hooves behind Alasdair, but he tried to tune out all the distractions and focus on what Lucan was saying.
Lord Cam was firing questions at the lad.
“I thought you’d already done that, lad. Probed for great miles,” Alasdair said.
Lucan’s green eyes were determined. “Aye, I had. But I did it again. And I found something.”
“What? Speak,” the duke ordered.
Alasdair wanted to throw him an irritated glare, but didn’t take his eyes off Lucan.
Orders were being hollered. Horses and men filled the bailey around them. Eivan, Lord Cam’s captain, led the duke’s white destrier and stood waiting with his own horse on the other side of them.
Mischief started to pace and whimper.
“As we already know, one of the men who took her has tracking magic. He’s good, so it took me a while to locate him from magical trail alone. Until now, when I found more than just the tracker.”
“Go on,” Alasdair urged, tightening his grip on the knighted mage and shaking Lucan’s shoulders.
“There was a vast darkness. A dead spot.”
“A dead spot?” Lord Cam asked.
Lucan nodded. “I sensed blood magic.”
“Where?” Alasdair’s mind spun over all the information Lucan and Hadrian, as well as Lord Cam’s mages had shared with the men about magic. And Dimithian. They’d touched on blood magic and its evils. He knew more about magic than he’d ever wanted to know; the information must’ve sunk in, because panic threatened to claw him from the inside out.
If a mage who practiced blood magic had Elissa, she was in more danger than they could’ve imagined. The attack when she was a wee lass confirmed the king’s suspicions. Someone was after her magic. Perhaps they’d get the answers King Nathal had never been able to obtain.
“Northwest. The area is like a beacon to me now.”
“Northwest?” Lord Cam breathed.
“Terraquist,” Alasdair said at the same time.
Lucan nodded. “The tracker did something.”
“Like what?” Lord Cam’s brow was furrowed when Alasdair spared the duke a glance.
“I don’t know.” The lad shook his head. “But it’s clear t
o me. There’s nothing shielding it.”
“Lucan!” Leargan strode across the courtyard, his squire Brodic on his heels. Both had rolled pieces of parchment in their hands. “Show me on the map. Quickly, lad, so we can go.”
Brodic opened and held the map up while Lucan pointed.
“That area is riddled with caves,” Leargan said.
“Not far from Terraquist Main,” Lord Cam said.
“Aye.” Alasdair remembered times of exploration and curious lads. They’d ridden out to the caves during free time over the turns of training to become a knight.
Leargan seemed to notice him for the first time and glared. “You and I will have words later.”
Alasdair nodded. His captain was irritated, so his intentions to leave on his own were no secret. It wasn’t important now. They needed to go.
Find Elissa.
“Are you sure, Lucan?” Lord Cam asked.
Lucan nodded. “I’m sure, my lord.”
“It’s a hard ride,” Leargan said.
“We don’t stop,” Alasdair vowed.
Leargan and Lord Cam exchanged a glance Alasdair ignored.
He called himself every name in the book.
Over the past few days, he’d done his best to be stoic. Swallow his anger and pack his feelings away. Didn’t want the duke to suspect how he felt about Elissa, even if Leargan and his brothers knew.
A word he still hadn’t acknowledged swirled around in his head.
When they got her back, she’d go to Dalunas with Lord Cam.
Marry Lord Cam.
Alasdair wouldn’t know how she was doing after being taken. Wouldn’t know if she’d been mistreated...if she’d be all right.
“Let’s go,” he growled and swung himself onto Tess’ wide back.
Chapter Thirty-six
Charis couldn’t stop thinking about her. It’d been days since he’d left her with Drayton, and right after, he’d gone to the closest tavern in Lower Terraquist and gotten piss drunk. Like he couldn’t cope with what he’d done.