saw his eyes blaze with hunger as he looked at the veins in my wrist. Then he grabbed it in his hands and brought it to his mouth.
I winced as his teeth pierced my skin. At first, his bite was gentle, his lips warm, his tongue gently caressing my skin.
A chill spread over my hand, and his mouth became hungry, drinking faster. A strangely pleasurable sensation raced up my arm—a tingling warmth that spread into my chest—which disturbed me. His scent of wood smoke and sage wrapped around me.
When I closed my eyes, I thought of the words North Star, a gleaming light in the night sky. Heat raced through my body, and I became acutely aware of my bare legs, as I was only in a long sweater. Strangely, I didn’t want Marroc to stop.
But when he did, I felt a slight jolt of horror at what I’d just experienced. He pulled his teeth from my wrist, looking up at me.
Did I actually enjoy that?
Bizarre.
“Did it work?” I asked, tugging down the sleeve of my sweater.
He nodded, a smile slowly spreading on his lips. “Beautifully. I can return your magic to you soon.”
It had felt incredible when he was drinking my blood, but now I could hardly move. My body was nearly drained of strength, and I slid down into the armchair, sighing.
Marroc looked at me with a satisfied smile on his face. “When this is all over, I’m going to set you up in a beautiful home like this one. You can even bring Barthol.”
I was no longer sure what he was talking about, and I had the sense we were both a little delirious. “You’re going to get my brother and me a house?”
His smile deepened. “Ah. He’s your brother?”
I blinked. “What are we talking about?”
But from the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shape move in one of his windows. Was I hallucinating?
I turned and spotted the flicker of moth wings. “Marroc?”
Before he could answer, light flashed, and a spell shattered the glass. Not a hallucination. No, this was definitely real.
Marroc spun as more windows shattered. He leapt in front of me as High Elf soldiers poured into his atrium.
“Skalei.” Mentally, I calculated my chances of taking out every one of these High Elves before they killed me.
My chances were not good.
The soldiers stalked toward us, wands trained on Marroc’s chest. Curses hummed ominously at the ends of their wands.
Gorm, King of the High Elves, stepped to the front. His pale hair cascaded over golden robes, a spindly crown perched on his head.
“Don’t move,” he said in his stupid tinkling voice.
“What do you want?” Marroc boomed. He was standing before me, trying to shield me.
“I see you’ve found your voice again,” said Gorm. “You will come with us.”
“No,” Marroc said. “I will not.”
He raised Loki’s wand. But before he could launch into a spell, his living room wall exploded.
I was thrown out of the chair onto the floor, and I scrambled to stand again. When I did, I saw the towering gray body of a troll.
“Ghhhrooooarrgh!” It snatched Marroc in its crushing grip and clamped a hand over his mouth, stopping him from uttering the spell.
Marroc had dropped Levateinn on the floor, the wand gleaming silver.
“Thank you, Porgor. Now, what have we here?” King Gorm bent down to pick up Levateinn, and his eyes widened. “Now this is quite the prize.”
Oh no.
Chapter 58
Marroc
I knew where I was before I even opened my eyes. The stone beneath my back was as hard as I remembered, the scent of filth just as vile, and the warm body of a tiny rodent curled up at my feet confirmed it. I was in my cell in the Citadel, with my pet rat Gormie.
I sat up, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I blinked slowly. There was something new. The bars I’d previously broken had been replaced with a thicker, heavier set. And, as if that wasn’t enough, my hands were clamped in giant iron manacles. Escaping this time would not be so easy.
I peered into the cell across from me, hoping to see Ali’s sleeping form, but it was empty.
“Fuck,” I said under my breath.
I stood and paced the length of my cell, my arms bound behind my back. An intense rage, and a desperate need to get to Ali, was overtaking me. I no longer cared about my soul at this point; I only wanted to make sure she was safe.
At least my wound was healed now,