Page 130 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
She’d just signed, sealed, and delivered her death sentence.
Blake’s jaw clenched as his wound stitched itself together. A slice of pain ripped down her side and she tumbled, gasping. Her vision shuddered as she crumpled beside him, and he leaned over her, frowning. He touched her shoulder, and she cried out in agony as his hand came away dripping with blood.
Exhaustion crept in as the blue glow evaporated from her hands, and the vat of water shooting from the cracked earth reduced to a dribble. Cold mud slicked her palms, coating her hair, and Kora shivered beneath his warmth.
“The most interesting mage I’ve ever met,” he murmured.
Blake’s dark smile was the last thing she saw as her magic ceased to a tiny wisp.
51
The sound of metal clicking tore Kora from her dreamless sleep, and she pried her eyes open, blinking against the summer’s day light shining through the bay window of her chambers. As her vision settled, her eyes focused on a familiar, dark figure, holding her hands.
“Blake . . .” Her mouth was as dry as the Silent Tundra, and she reached for a glass of water, but was met with resistance. “Blake . . . let go of me.”
He wouldn’t look up. He kept his green stare trained on her hands, an audible swallow from his throat.
Click.
She jolted as cold metal snapped around her wrists, securing them in place. Pain seared down her shoulder, and she gasped as he sat back, revealing a three-pronged key to the shackles binding her wrists.
“What . . . what are you doing?”
He silently stood, expression set in hard stone, his black leathers still caked in mud that was dusting the ends of his hair. His shoulder was fully healed, and he leaned over, tighteningthe cloth wrapped around her, making her cry out from sudden, blinding pain.
She glanced at her side and paled. Her shoulder was gushing blood, with gauze and several cloths tied around it already soaked through.
“Blake . . . I’m bleeding out, you need to—”
He silenced her with a kiss. It was fervent, and she was trapped between his lips and the wooden headboard. Unable to pull away, he gripped her chin forcefully, placing bruising kisses against her lips. This male wasobsessed.
The forest flashed, spearing her mind like a destructive arrow. He’d seen her power. She’d nearly killed him. Her throat closed, her guts twisting until she felt like her body was sinking into the bed. Deep into the belly of Umbra. Where she belonged.
He wanted the war. He supported killing innocents so the empire could maintain their illusion of control. So, he could winher,by superseding laws, and advancing in the war to possess power.
“Blake, no. Stop!” She wrenched her head to the side, tears pricking at the agony of turning her head. But it didn’t hurt as much as her heart.Thathad imploded into a million pieces.
“I’m sorry. One day . . . forgive me.” She frowned as he placed his lips against her forehead, his thumb stroking her bruised throat. “She’s ready!” he called, stepping back, his power-hungry eyes glancing to the door.
Several guards marched into her room, followed by Barron and the Ironwharf viceroy. He was clean-shaven, with not a single strand of hair to be seen on his head, including his eyebrows. Deep lines covered his permanently scowling face, and he sported the famous Ironwharf blue-steel armour, with a large longsword attached to his back.
His eyes looked simultaneously tired and kind, and she averted her gaze, granting Barron her attention. He wore similarroyal attire to when they’d first arrived at Mossfell Castle, but every item was black. His tar-like hair was scraped back, tied at the nape of his neck, and she shivered under the intensity of his stare.
“It’s a shame this has to happen under these circumstances. I do love a female tied up.” Barron flashed a smile and she blanched. What was about to happen?What was going on?Blake twitched beside her. The hunger in eyes had drained, resulting in a vacant stare.
“There has to be a misunderstanding,” Kora spoke thickly. “If this is because of what happened earlier with Theron—”
“Do not speak that traitor’s name.” Barron flicked his wrist, then inspected a piece of lint on his sleeve. Kora looked desperately at Blake. He was her only chance of survival right now.
And it sickened her.
“Blake,” she tried reaching for him, wincing through the pain, but he evaded her. “What’s happening?”
“Don’t pretend,” Barron crooned, approaching the edge of the four-poster bed. His stormy gaze roved over her body, pausing at her ruined shoulder, before continuing. “You have committed a great injustice, Kora Cadell. You’ve spat in the face of my empire—after everything wehave done for you.”
“If . . . if this is about theforest. . .” she trod carefully. Had Blake told them about her power? If he had, she wouldn’t be shackled, she would bedead. Her shattered heart pounded so viciously, the individual pieces vibrating, her body thrumming with fear.
Barron paused, his eyes flicking from her to Blake, whose body visibly tensed under the weight of Barron’s stare. It shocked her to see Blakeshrinkaway from someone. His confidence and drawl had evaporated completely.
