“I took half of the swan sigil inside myself. She holds the other half.” Rothbart spoke fast, a desperation edging his voice. Odette could barely focus on his words. She clutched the knife. She had precious little time. She needed toact.

Alecta looked at Rothbart in surprise. “What a foolish thing to do.” A smile crept up her face. “So if I kill her right now, you’ll die, too, and all those other swans will be free of their curse.”

Odette shoved off the chair to her feet, ignoring the burning in her throat, ignoring the weakness and tingling in her limbs.

“What do you want, Alecta?”

“First, take that damn knife from her. Then I want you to return tomorrow night. Alone.”

“Yes. Deal. Whatever you want.”

Rothbart approached Odette and too easily disarmed her. She fell to her knees, the blackness swallowing her, and she tumbled forward onto the faded carpet.

Odette awoke. She was being carried in Rothbart’s arms.

A horrible whistling sound filled her ears. Fire lanced up her throat, and she opened her mouth, but only a wheeze escaped. Tightness shoved against her chest. She grasped Rothbart’s shoulders, her nails digging in to signal that something was wrong.

He jostled her as he hurried across Alecta’s grounds. Each time she tried to breathe, the pain radiated stronger.

“Hold on, Odette, almost there.” His strong arms pulled tighter around her.

She barely noted when he passed through the gate, the agony in her throat had spread to her chest. The horrible grating that sounded like wind whistling over rocks came fromher.

The world began to go black again by the time she felt him lower her.

A hand pressed on her throat, and she panicked, struggling.

She heard Rothbart swearing, or maybe chanting. The pain worsened and Odette tried to scream but couldn’t. Something moved under her skin, inside her throat. Fear sliced through her. He was killing her.

The agony receded into a dull ache, and beautiful fresh air passed over the soreness. It tasted so good. She took several gulps of it despite the lingering pain. As the world settled and her breaths evened out, she stared up into Rothbart’s relieved face that was inches from hers.

“Say something,” he commanded.

“Why are you on top of me?” Her voice grated painfully, but at least she could speak.

He was straddling her. The sides of his knees dug into her thighs, squeezing them. He had her wrists pinned above her head with one hand, the other at her throat, though he put no pressure on it.

“Alecta nearly crushed your larynx, and I needed to heal you, but you wouldn’t hold still.”

The weight of his body heated her. His hips were flush with hers and a desire seared through her veins. His grip on her wrists was tight and unyielding.

“I’m not struggling now,” she managed in her horrible, gravelly voice.

Something lightless and dangerous sparked in his gaze. “I was able to bring you into submission.”

Shit. What was he doing? Her breaths came faster, which hurt her throat even worse. But she couldn’t help it. He looked as if he wanted to devour her.

His head dipped closer, and his threatening overcast eyes bored into hers. “I’m not done with you.”

At his words, her heart raced, and an ache started in her chest. She desired his pressure on her body, sending a fire between her legs. She wanted him to move, to rub against her.

“How do you feel, Odette?” he asked in his soft voice that was more a danger to her than his raging anger.

“Hot,” she croaked. Her skin was clammy, warm, and she fought the urge to roll her hips under him.

A chuckle ground out of him. “I meant your throat. Where does it hurt?”

She grit her teeth against the flush rising in her cheeks. He probed her neck with his fingers. She gasped as he pressed a particularly sore spot.