his chest again. His stare leaving marks along my skin. Sleep was a reprieve because it meant I got to see him. Got to live in the delusion that I was his and he was mine. But waking… Waking was designed to break even the strongest spirit. Reality clawed at my fragile peace and yanked me back into despair.
Eyes forced open, all I could see was him, and the agony started all over again.
I slept in short intervals and quickly lost count of how many times I gained and lost Noc all over again. Just as I realized I was sleeping, my mind revolted and the glaring truth of his absence shocked me into heart-wrenching awareness.
Not to mention true sleep was next to impossible, thanks to a beast stationed on a small, metal perch fastened to the ceiling. Pear-shaped and covered in tiny green feathers, it sat without moving—but it was far from quiet. A staticky dissonant sound constantly streamed from its trumpetlike beak. Just low enough to be mistaken for white noise. Just loud enough to scrape along my nerves and steadily drive me insane.
Wynn would try anything to subdue me. He didn’t know what kind of fight he had coming.
Somewhere amidst that, I tried in vain to summon Onyx. Hand splayed out, I focused on the symbol and willed every ounce of remaining power I had into that tree. Pictured Onyx’s lithe body. His ink-black fur and explosion of peacock feathers. He could get me out. He could save me. But with the flux of power came an instant reprimand, a stabbing and violent pain reminiscent of needles hammering into my bones. Whatever Wynn had done to enchant this room, it worked.
Food appeared on sterling silver platters, carried in by a low-level Havra, a beast with gangly limbs and the ability to materialize through walls. I didn’t dream of eating it. There was no telling what kind of drug Wynn could have slipped in there. So the Havra would wait for an hour or so, and then disappear with the platter, food entirely untouched.
The buzzing continued. Sleep came and went. So did Noc.
I didn’t know how much time had passed until Wynn visited me again.
Marble slab groaning open, Wynn stepped through the threshold into my hell. Casting a quick glance between me and an untouched tray, he shook his head.
“It’s been two days. You need to eat.”
Crinkled white cotton tunic. Loose-fitting trousers. Black boots. He wore approachable like a garment—except I knew it was all an act.
When I didn’t respond, he sank to the floor, kicking his feet out in front of him. “We need to discuss your future here.”
“I’m not interested.” I met his gaze with as much ire as I could summon. Staring him down was all I had left.
He flexed his hands before settling them in his lap. “Here’s the deal—you’re living on borrowed time. The woman who placed the hit doesn’t know you’re here. If she did, she’d demand your head, and I wouldn’t be able to deliver you to her, what with the Myad deeming you worthy. You might be a criminal in the eyes of the court, but your spirit says otherwise.”
“The only criminal here is you.”
“That’s exactly my point.” The vibrant Charmer’s symbol on the back of his left hand taunted me. “The spell requires a fallen Charmer. If not you, then it’s me. She’s tired of waiting, and I refuse to be her fallback.”
My aching muscles protested as I pushed myself into a sitting position. “What, you’re protecting your own hide? How very courageous of you.”
Wynn’s eyes flashed. “You don’t understand. This is the only way. So I am going to charm you, ensuring all of your beasts will be at my command. And if that’s not good enough for her… Well, like I said, we’ll do away with your Myad, and you will revert to the pitiful state you were in before its blessing. Your death will be painless.”
I laughed. Hollow and sharp, the sound skittered around the room like a frightened spider. “You’re out of your damn mind. You couldn’t charm a human, so now you’re trying your hand at a Charmer?”
Nails scraped along his beard. “Not quite. Humans are beyond the realm of taming. Like Zeelahs—all of the magic is bred right out of them.”
My lungs came to a standstill.
“That’s the theory, anyway.” Crossing his ankles, Wynn continued to speak more to himself than to me. “Her spell won’t save us from our fate. But our people