Page 60 of Faerie Hunted

He lifted one hand out of his pocket and drew out a medallion like the one I was wearing. At once my spine stiffened, heat flooding my entire body. My stomach dropped. What…what was he doing? I turned away…or rather tried. The effort left me wrung out, exhausted, as I fought to move my arm, my leg, a single muscle in my face, and found my body did not belong to me anymore.

“Don’t worry, Tavi. No one is going to hurt you while you’re here. I simply can’t allow you to leave, not yet. Not until you’ve had time to consider things from my perspective,” he continued.

“What have you done to me?” I managed to say through the thin seam of my lips. Terror rose up, screaming, too loud to blot out.

“You and your friend Onyx will stay with us. At least your necklace is not as cumbersome as the collars the servants wear. The same material, however. Magical bindings,” Dorian explained. He pursed his mouth. “I find them absolutely necessary. Also, congratulations on your powerful manipulation of my direwolf. I commend you for what you’ve managed to accomplish. I meant to mention it yesterday but didn’t want to startle you.”

“No…”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. In that single sentence, he’d confirmed everything for me.

Dorian Jadehadbeen the one to send the direwolf to kill me, to siphon my powers. When it didn’t work…he’d clearly moved on to Plan B.

Now he had me right where he wanted me.

“It’s a shame I’m going to have to take him back. You are skilled, Tavi, a powerful halfling who, with the right guidance, could reach staggering heights. There is still time for you. At this point, however, I suggest you take a few days to adjust and make yourself useful at the same time,” he added.

“Whatever it is you’re doing?—”

“Done,” Dorian interrupted to correct. “It’s what I’ve done, this trap you’ve fallen into. I don’t blame you. For all your power, you’re still young. It’s hard to consider things from every angle.”

He whistled a slow, hissing melody I’d never heard before. My heart thrummed agonizingly against my ribs as Noren stepped into the tent.

“Please, don’t. You can’t do this,” I managed.

“I’m taking him back, my dear. After all, he’s my weapon. As you will be as well.”

Everything inside of me broke when Dorian lifted his hands. Magic rushed out from him in visible waves. He didn’t need a spell. Not when this was his show, and he ran it effortlessly. Flawlessly.

Noren stiffened, a growl building in the back of his throat until all of a sudden it stopped. As quickly as the sound began, it cut off, and the direwolf appeared to grow several inches.

Even his expression shifted, his lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl, and he trotted back to Dorian’s side and sat. Facing me.

Sizing me up the same way he had when we first faced off.

God, no.

My heart cracked at the expression. My friend was gone. Disappeared, as though our experiences never existed. Perhaps they didn’t, because the animal who stared at me now only wanted blood. Mine, specifically.

Dorian clapped his hands together and a moment later, Elaen entered the tent with her head bowed.

“Sir?”

“Please escort Tavi to the kitchen. We could use her assistance in lunch preparation for the camp.”

I didn’t recognize the voice Dorian used, either. Cold did not begin to describe the ice spearing out from every syllable. The disdainful look in his eyes when he spoke to the high fae woman…

Neither of us had a choice. Elaen because she was a slave, and me because the power of the necklace was too much for me to fight. She took my arm and guided me outside with no hesitation. My footsteps were heavy, my stride wooden, and my gaze forced to stare directly ahead.

The farther we got from Dorian, the more control I got back. Unfortunately for me, it was never enough to break his spell.

“Kitchen duty is never fun, Miss. I’m sorry for you,” Elaen whispered.

The moment she’d spoken, she zipped her lips tightly shut again, as if even that small statement would land her in a world of trouble.

Another kitchen. My god, I couldn't getawayfrom the kitchen.

I pulled out of Elaen’s arm and tugged at the thick chains around my neck, looking for a latch. Two metal studs stood out on one of the chains but I had no way of pulling them apart. They were seamless, perfectly constructed, and although it had first appeared wide enough to make it over my head, it now fit snugly.

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