Page 179 of Primal Bonds

He’d warned her that Sindre had spies everywhere. Hell, he’d flat out told her not to trust him. But had she listened? No.

She’d willingly come with him inside the castle, slept in the same bed. She’d even allowed the bastard to kiss her.

Holy singing crystals, did she know how to pick men.

His eyes flickered, and she knew he’d seen her contempt. He stared down his straight nose at her. “Do you want another quartz or not?”

“Yes.” She swallowed and made herself say, “Thank you.”

Because if it kept her out of a cage, she’d be grateful to him even if it choked her.

“We don’t have much time. Sindre’s an impatient man. But I know where I can get one outside the castle. I’ll be right back.”

And then he was gone, like the Flash in those human movies. One second, he was there; the next, the room was empty.

She sat down and fiddled with the checkers again. But she couldn’t focus.

She gazed unseeingly at the red checker in her hand. I trusted you.

She felt again his mouth on hers, his hands on her body. He’d been so gentle with her. Careful.

A black rage filled her head. She slammed the checker down on the board, denting the inlaid wood and scattering the other pieces across the table. A few fell on the floor.

With a growl, she gathered up the checkers and returned them to their box before getting up to pace restlessly to and fro. Forget him. It’s Sindre you have to worry about.

After what felt like an hour but was really only about ten minutes, Fane slipped back into the room with a quartz about the same size as hers. “Will this do?”

She turned the quartz over in her hand. It was an ordinary milky quartz, not amethyst, but it hummed a weak tune. If necessary, she could probably even make it glow to fool the fae.

“I think so. Yeah.”

She undid the knot in the leather cord securing her amethyst and tucked it into her bra before tying a new knot around the substitute quartz. She dropped the cord over her head. “I’m ready.”

“Jani?” Fane reached for her. When she just stared at his hand, he let it drop to his side. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Anger and hurt crammed her throat like sharp gravel. “I’m nothing to you. Just a job for the king.”

“That’s not true.”

She picked up her backpack. “Just take me to him.”

He blew out a breath and then opened the door. “Fine.”

This time, Fane did nothing to conceal Marjani’s presence. She attracted plenty of attention with her shaved head, drab clothes, and hiking boots. The looks ranged from coldly appraising to pity.

She stomped past, deliberately slamming her boot heels onto the bright blue tiles.

A pack of goblins trotted up. They swirled around her, snapping and snarling. She hissed and showed her fangs, and they gave high-pitched laughs like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard before continuing by.

The maze grew increasingly complicated, crisscrossing itself and turning abrupt corners. At times the pearly walls pressed in so the two of them had to walk in single file.

“I thought the king wanted to see me,” she muttered.

“He has a peculiar sense of humor.”

“Fucking awesome.”

Disoriented, she drew on her quartz, and discovered that she could “see” a pattern in the maze: two lefts and a right, three rights and a left, and so on, always heading steadily north. It was kind of like plotting a path to kings row in checkers.

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