Rhyan growled under his breath, his face red.
I hated to see him like this, knowing what the ropes meant to him. I turned on the mage. “You said the Valalumir would just break through it anyway.”
She shrugged. “It would. That’s why you get the akadim holding you prisoner.”
Rhyan’s captor moved to my side, growling under its breath. Its fangs poked out from its mouth as it grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet. The one who’d held me took my other arm, and together they lifted me. Pain shot into my underarms.
“PUT HER DOWN!” Rhyan roared. “You’ll break her arms.”
The mage shrugged again. “She has her magic power now. She’ll heal.”
I kicked to no avail as the akadim stepped away from the gryphon. The mage walked ahead with one look over her shoulder, signifying Rhyan was to follow. Glaring, he walked ahead, his muscles bulging as he tried to break free from the ropes. She emitted a small light from her stave, and the akadim holding me dragged me forward until we were all inside the mouth of the cave.
I couldn’t see much beyond her light—none of the torches were lit, and she made no effort to light them, clearly reveling in keeping us in the dark. I kept my eyes on Rhyan ahead of me. He kept glancing over his shoulder, making sure I was still there, making sure I was unharmed.
It felt like we’d walked an entire mile before the tunnel opened up. Then with a grunt from the akadim, I was dragged into a cavern large enough to rival the Temple of Dawn. It was full of torches and three black poles. They were about the same size as the one in the Katurium, larger than the pole Brockton had in his bedroom.
A shiver ran through me.
So much had happened since then. And for one night, I’d been allowed to forget. To feel pleasure. Love. Safety. But this…this was my life.
The mage, now in the center of the room, removed her blue hood, and the fires made the golden tattoo on her cheek sparkle.
In the light, I could see she had sunken-in, bright blue eyes and a gaunt face that made it hard to tell her age. A third akadim emerged from the shadows, growling, its eyes red. It stood around eight feet tall—small for an akadim but still enormous. Its arms extended, its claws out, as it headed straight for Rhyan.
Rhyan looked to me, his nostrils flaring—as if debating whether to fight or give in. Bound as he was, I believed he could fight off one akadim. Even two.
But here, even if he freed himself from the binds, he’d then have to fight through three akadim to get to me before the mage cast another spell.
I shook my head sadly at him, knowing from the defeated look in his eyes he’d made the same calculations.
The akadim grabbed the rope binding Rhyan and tugged him toward the first pole, where it tied Rhyan’s arms above his head.
I felt sick. It was the same position he’d been forced into in the arena. The same one Brockton had forced on me.
Two more akadim emerged from the shadows, their arms out before them. And I realized then, they all had the silver collars. Every single one.
I peered more closely, finding the red centers glowing against the silver, as they moved into the firelight and I realized with horror that they were carrying my sisters. Unconscious.
“NO! Meera! Morgana!” I yelled, rushing forward only to be yanked right back into place. I hissed, knowing I would be covered in bruises—if we survived.
“Shut up,” snapped the captor to my left. Its hair was long and black, and looked like it hadn’t been washed in months. It smelled like it, too.
Its claws dug into my arms, and Rhyan’s gaze seared into the spot where it touched me.
The akadim dumped my sisters onto the ground. Neither moved. Gods. Were they alive?
“What happened to them?” I yelled. “What is going on?”
The mage turned to me. “Akadim are sloppy. But your sisters are alive. Just asleep. Same spell I used on you and your lover.”
My cheeks flamed at the fact that she’d pulled those thoughts out of me. That for hours she’d been invading my mind, and Rhyan’s. I knew he’d figured out what she was—but even after a year with Morgana’s vorakh—I still slipped. Still let her into my head.
The mage had no right.
She rolled her eyes. “It was quite titillating. Especially seeing the spring… through his eyes.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled, as Rhyan growled a string of curses.