he did not possess.
“Kaysar?” Chantel asked, her voice reedy.
Something was off. He whipped to her side. “What’s wrong? Tell me.” If he knew, he could fix it. He must fix it.
“I feel funny.” Her cheeks were pallid. She blinked rapidly, as if to stave off dizziness. “Weakening fast...so tired.”
Ah. The elderseed was wearing off. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, sweetling.” He draped an arm around her waist, holding her up. “Release the vines and cleave to me. I’ll take care of you. I will let nothing harm you.”
Her gaze searched his before her lids sank over her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder, she breathed, “Promise?”
“You are mine, and I take care of what’s mine. Remember?”
“Oh, yes. It’s nice to be wanted.” She obeyed at last, wrapping her arms around him. Foliage withered as her body went limp against his.
Sleep had claimed her.
He swept her up, clutching her slight weight against his chest. This felt...right.
Jareth hadn’t attempted to rise yet. He panted, “She isn’t yours.”
“She wasn’t.” Kaysar grinned with staggering satisfaction. “But she is now.” He would be securing her agreement posthaste. When in trouble, she’d turned to him.
“You’re a monster, and you’re going to ruin her. You know that, yes? Do you even care? She’s already poison—because of you.”
Ruin her? When he planned to give her the world? Kaysar laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I am merely what your family made me, Jareth. You know that, yes?” He resumed his journey to the mountains, done with the conversation. For once, he had something more important to do than torment a Frostline.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“TIME TO WAKE UP, sweetling. You’ve slept long enough, and we have much to discuss.”
The sexy voice roused Cookie from a deep, sublime sleep. “Just ten more minutes,” she muttered. “Fifteen if you have a heart.”
A heavy sigh greeted her words. “Once again, it seems I can deny you nothing. Sleep, then. And sleep well.” Sexy Voice hummed the most beautiful song, and she slipped into the darkness...
However long later, the barest shaft of light pierced the fog that encompassed her mind. She tried to blink open her eyes, but her lids remained glued shut. Oh, well. She rolled to her side, getting more comfortable. Huh. Her memory foam had amnesia.
“You’ve been sleeping for three days, Chantel. An endless eternity.” Sexy Voice had returned. The bed dipped, as if he stretched out beside her. “I have so much to tell you. So much has changed.” His tone effortlessly glided from firm to irritated.
She’d taken a three-day snooze?
“I insist you wake, Chantel. Micah has destroyed my playground. The goblins are missing, and the lack has encouraged people to move here. Willingly. He’s made the Dusklands habitable. The outrage of it all!” The bed shook, as if he’d shuddered. “I suppose there are a few welcome developments. I’m able to flitter in and out of the palace. Which I sacked. Jareth is my prisoner, of course.” A weighty pause left her suspended. What would he tell her next? “Do you hate me now? Do you hate yourself?”
I know him. Who... Lights switched on in her mind. Memories crystalized, and she let them. “Kaysar,” she breathed.
She recalled his betrayal. Learning about his tragic past and the Frostlines who’d held him captive. She remembered the sweetness of his lips. The elderseed. Unleashing her vines and—Whoa. Her body jerked, as if shocked by a live wire. She’d killed. She’d killed a lot. Now, Kaysar feared she blamed him, hated him, for encouraging her to do it?
Did she? She thought... No. How could she? Miss Murder Curious had enjoyed every minute and scream. Every death. And hate herself? No again. Anyone who endangered her or her loved ones—er, or rather, her companions, whoever they happened to be—earned a bad end. But...
A part of her feared what she was becoming. Because there was no going back. That, she knew.
Cool metal glided along her cheekbone, sending warm shivers cascading over her. “You don’t mean to tempt me to distraction, do you, sweetling? You just do.”
Sexy voice, sexy words—very sexy man. Lust welled, as if it had only waited on the sidelines. She longed to touch her dark king, to be touched by him, but she couldn’t open her eyes. Her lids were too heavy.
Though she fought, she failed. The fog in her mind only thickened, snuffing out the lights. All too soon, she drifted back to sleep...
However long later, Cookie’s eyelids popped open. She blinked into focus, lights switching on in her mind