Page 52 of Ivy & Bone

She was still unconscious. Her wounds had sealed, at least. But she should’ve woken by now. Something was wrong.

The man—Healer Barrow—bent over Prue, whispering nonsensically to himself as he did. Cyrus hovered behind him, resisting the urge to shout at the man to hurry up.

After a moment, the man paused and glanced over his shoulder at Cyrus. Suspicion prickled in his withered eyes. “What did you do?”

Cyrus blinked. “What?”

“She had bloodstains, but no wounds. And she reeks of death magic.”

Cyrus went completely still. How did this mortal know of death magic?

At the wary aggression on Cyrus’s face, Barrow barked out a laugh. “Sheath your blades, Dark Highness. I mean you no harm. But you don’t tend to wounds—both mortal and not—for as long as I have without picking up a thing or two.”

“You’ve seen death magic before?” Cyrus asked, his body still taut as if expecting a battle. Which was ridiculous, given the man’s age. Even so, every fiber of his body quivered with unease.

“More than once,” the man confirmed. “This woman smells the same.”

“Then what’s wrong with her? My magic should have healed her.”

“It healed her on the outside. But inside, a storm still rages.”

“What does that mean?” Cyrus demanded, his patience thinning.

“It means something inside her has her trapped. And whatever it is, it’s reluctant to let her go.”

Ice filled Cyrus’s chest as he gazed at Prue’s limp form. What storm brewed inside her? What horrors kept her mind caged? Had this near-death experience altered her, just as it had altered Cyrus?

And if so, how could he get her back?

TRAPPED

PRUE

Prue sat along the shore, her feet buried in the sand as the tide washed over them again and again. Besides her, Mona leaned back on her elbows, lifting her face toward the warm sun.

“So, let me get this straight,” Mona said, turning her head to crack open an eye at Prue. “You’re married to this delicious hunk . . . and you still haven’t made love to him yet?”

Prue whacked Mona’s arm. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not? You slept with Xandros without a problem.”

Prue’s face fell, her insides chilling. Xandros. Goddess, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about him in months. “Yeah, and look where that got him.” Her voice sounded hollow.

Mona touched her shoulder, and Prue relished the feel of her sister, solid and warm, next to her. “His death wasn’t your fault.”

Prue shuddered. She didn’t want to talk about this. “Regardless, that’s the perfect reason for me to not go there with Cyrus. I’ve seen enough death and suffering. I don’t want to be around it anymore, and being with someone like him pretty much guarantees death will be a regular occurrence.”

Mona shook her head, smirking. “I’ll never understand you, Prue. You’ve gone farther than I ever have with a man before, and somehow you’re the one who’s reluctant about it now? We must have swapped brains or something.”

Prue snorted at the truth behind her words. This was very true. Mona always thought through everything. And then thought it through again, just be safe. She was overly cautious, anxious to a fault.

Whereas Prue was reckless and irresponsible.

Perhaps it would be better if they did switch brains. Maybe then Prue’s decisions wouldn’t keep getting people killed.

“Would it really be so bad if you had feelings for him?” Mona asked.

“Yes,” Prue insisted.

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