The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,131

to exist and she slipped peacefully into her dreams.

40

Rafe

Cassi was there. Cassi had seen him. Rafe kept his eyes peeled on the mist, studying the ashen vapors swirling in the wind. The king had been talking to someone—someone who wasn't there, someone who'd been little more than spirit.

Kasiandra. Cassi. Kasiandra. Cassi.

They're the same.

She was a dreamwalker. That's what Brighty had called it. She could separate her spirit from her body in sleep. She could dive inside people's minds.

It was her.

It had to be.

So what? the bitter, broken part of him snapped. She did this to you. She cut off your wings. She dropped you over the edge. You really think she won't do the same to Xander? Won't do worse?

No.

No, she wouldn't. Gods alive, he hoped she wouldn't. He had to believe differently or he'd lose his mind. He'd never forgive himself for not doing more, for not finding some other way home, for not being there to stop her.

Please, Cassi. Please. Whatever your motives, whatever the king told you, please don't do it. Please spare him.

Magic wrapped around Rafe's legs and chest, dragging him forward. He stared over his shoulder, the muscles in his neck straining with the effort as his body turned away. Metal dug into his wrists and arms. Green sparks flashed and the metal clamp across his lips jerked, forcing his face to the side. All sight of the mist fled, replaced with darkness as he was led inside the warehouse. At the front, the king walked with his photo'kine, the man's fist encased in white light to lead them through the shadows. The ominous thud of a door closing echoed down the corridor, making goose bumps rise along Rafe's skin. Suddenly, he remembered Xander's life wasn't the only one in question tonight.

What did they want with him?

What were they planning?

They walked on, nothing but the stomping of boots and the soft jangle of metal clasps to fill the silence. The metal mage to Rafe's left was tall and lithe, a study in harsh edges and contrast, the same as her magic, while the water mage to his right was short and curvy, features as fluid as the element she wielded. Neither would look at him. Not that he expected their help, of course. They were the ones who'd trapped him here in the first place.

He wasn't a fool. He was alone, as he'd always been, no one to save him but himself. And the chances of that were looking rather dire.

The king's magic was impossible to fight. Oh, he wanted to, and he'd tried, but it was futile. The power sparkled like stardust in the air, as beautiful as it was impenetrable, holding not to his body but to his soul with a grip Rafe didn't know how to shirk. Where Lyana's magic had felt wild and free, brimming with passion, the king's was as sharp and emotionless as a blade.

When they reached the end of the hall, Kal released his magic and the world went black. As the mage pulled open the door, an eerie orange glow crept along the wooden walls, casting the king in reddish hue, the pale contours of his skin taking on a gruesome edge. Over his head, Rafe caught sight of the dragon, still bound and chained, its back rising and falling with slow, unhurried breaths.

He'd known their destination, of course, but drew in a sharp breath nevertheless, a jolt of fear hurtling down his chest and settling in his gut like bad food. A burning scent filled his nose, drawing him back to that room and to his parents and to the blinding heat so severe it had stolen his sight, the pain so intense that even surrounded by flames he'd fallen into darkness.

Still, Rafe stepped inescapably forward.

One foot rose, then the other, again and again, as silent screams clogged his throat. The king's magic pulled him along as if he were a dog on a leash, until they stopped beside a table fitted with leather straps. Jacinta removed the metal chains binding his hands.

No. No. No.

It was useless. In his head, he kicked and punched, struggling with every ounce of strength he possessed. In reality, his body sank onto the tabletop and lay perfectly still as Nyomi secured the binds. The king leaned forward, his face cast in shadow and silhouetted by the fiery aura of the beast looming behind him.

"I know you're confused, Aleksander," he said quietly, tone so emotionless and flat Rafe wondered if the