Page 19 of Treasured

“He needs help!” Luna said.

I would recognize her voice anywhere. It was like a soothing balm to the fire in me. A hush, and then a cool cloth dabbed my forehead.

“The prince is hallucinating…” a feminine voice replied.

A stabbing, fiery pain ran through my head. I yelled.

Luna cried out. “Help him!”

“The summons…” The other voice faded in and out. I was having trouble hearing. Everything was too much. “Can you…”

I moaned and thrashed on the bed.

“No,” was my wife’s reply. “We won’t do that.”

“But…”

More fire. More pain.

“There has to be another option,” Luna insisted, her voice breaking.

The cool cloth came off my forehead. A sound of despair, wholly unbecoming of the prince I was, left my lips. The flames came back worse than before.

This was what dying felt like.

“Help him!” Luna said. “Anything is better than this.”

A murmured reply, then a door closed. More agony. I writhed. Minutes passed. The door opened. Hushed whispers.

Someone pried my mouth open. “Drink, Sebastian.” Luna’s voice was soft but firm as a cloyingly sweet citrus liquid was poured down my throat.

It was thick, and I coughed and sputtered against the medicinal onslaught.

“You have to drink it, Sebastian.” More liquid was poured down my throat. “It’ll help.”

Blackness rose all around me. I was drowning in it. My shadows were choking out my life. Flames licked my skin, my face, my insides.

Then, I fell into blessed darkness.

* * *

Three more times, I woke.

Each time, the piercing, screeching sound echoed through my mind. I roared, thrashing about blindly until Luna forced more citrus liquid down my throat. Each time, the call of the summons dimmed, bringing me back into the darkness.

The fourth time I woke, something was different.

Off.

My mind was quiet, something I had never appreciated until now, but I still felt… wrong. My shadows were unmoving, and the dark magic in me sat as though it was waiting for something.

I opened my eyes, but darkness was all around. It was both oppressive and comforting. I was on a bed, a soft fabric covering my bottom half.

“Luna?” I called her name, my voice hoarse.

No reply. No hint of lilac shampoo. But the Binding Mark did not burn, and the Tether was not twinging.

Where was she?

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