I could. He reeled, and I dashed for the doors before he could react. Gripping the handles, I pulled them, only to have his hands come down hard against the wood, slamming the doors shut. He yanked me back and threw me into the wall. My head smacked against the granite, and stars danced across my vision. “Careful, Leena. You’re in my home now. Don’t act out.”
Grasping the chains, he dragged me toward the far side of the room. As he pressed his hand flat against a smooth slab of ivory, a network of cobalt lighting shot out from his fingertips. A hiss of escaping air whispered through cracked seams, and a hidden door swung open.
He hauled me, struggling, into the low-lit, windowless room. It was whitewashed and stinking of lemon—a feeble attempt to cleanse the obvious horrors that occurred in this tomb. Weak candles flickered in chunky marble fixtures cemented to the walls, illuminating a steel cot soldered to the floor. A chain hammered into the floor with thick links wrapped across the tile, ending in an empty ankle shackle.
The memory of the man Wynn had imprisoned flashed in my mind. The ultimate crime. Taming a person was strictly forbidden. There were stories of a handful of Charmers over the centuries who had tried, unsuccessfully, to make a human theirs. The people in question never survived. Something about our charm always turned their brains to mush.
I still didn’t know why Wynn had risked it. He’d always been curious, but nothing compared to this degree of insanity. How many others had he detained after my banishment? And for what purpose?
“The way I see it, there are three possible outcomes here.” Quiet frustration seeped through his words, and he pushed me to the floor. I tried to kick him in the gut, but he trapped my legs in a vise grip, and my bones shuddered. “You fight me, and I take you straight to her, where you will die.” Quick hands yanked off my boots, and I thrashed in vain against him as he shackled my ankle. “Option two, you play by my rules. The charm works, and she finally sees that my way is the best option for protecting our people.” He crouched low into his heels, once again studying my face.
I strained against the chains. “And what’s option three?”
“The charm works, but she still wants to move forward with her plans. In which case…” He tipped his head to the ceiling and rested his hands on his thighs, drilling his fingers against his knees. “I’ll force you to relinquish your Myad. Its blessing makes you unsuitable for her needs, but without it… True, you’ll die. But it will be painless. You’ll simply slip away.”
“You’re a lunatic.”
“If that’s what it takes.” He shrugged. “And don’t hold out any hopes for that assassin. He’s no better than me. Maybe worse.”
Noc. He’d promised he wouldn’t risk eliminating his curse if it put me in danger. But how could he not know? I had warned him. Told him Gyss were mischievous, their offers not to be trusted, and he didn’t listen. I was still here. Still the brunt of a wish, still alone and unsure of whom to trust.
It couldn’t have been deliberate. He wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t.
Satisfied with my prison, Wynn removed the cuffs from my wrists. “He used you for his own purposes.”
“Liar.” Noc was cunning and dangerous. Yes, his curse consumed his focus and likely had made it difficult for him to see through the Gyss’s trap of words. But to use me? Never.
Voice soft, Wynn shook his head. “Whatever he told you, whatever you thought you found, it was all fake. He won’t come for you.”
A breath caught in my chest. Wynn was wrong. I had to hold on to what little piece of life I’d found outside Hireath.
“I’ll give you some time to adjust.” He stood and moved toward the doorway.
With a slow but definitive groan, the thick slab of wall closed behind him, and for the first time since spying Wynn in the ruins, I screamed.
The sharp wail rang through the room, shaking the chains and echoing endlessly around me as the walls of my prison crept closer. Jagged edges ripped my already tattered insides, and a heavy fist wrenched my heart tight.
Noc.
* * *
Sleep was a special kind of hell. Noc was an immovable force I couldn’t escape. The feel of his skin on mine. The burning need to bury my head in