“Are you hurt?” He smoothed back her hair. “What’s happening here?”
“Rielle is leaving you, I’m afraid.”
Rielle turned—and there he was.
Corien.
He moved slowly across the room, light-blue eyes fixed on her face. Tall and slender, hands held carefully behind his back, sleek dark coat buttoned at his shoulder and trailing to the floor. Pale face, cheekbones high and elegant, a full mouth that curved with delight at the sight of her.
Rielle’s breath came high and thin. Her dreams, as vivid as they had been, had not done him justice.
“My God, Rielle,” he murmured, his hungry gaze raking down her body. “I didn’t think it possible, but you are even more exquisite now than you are in my mind.”
Her father stiffened with fury at her side. “Rielle, you know this man?”
“Who are you?” King Bastien stepped forward, a furious expression on his face. “Why have you brought us here?”
Corien took one step closer to Rielle, then another. His eyes never left her face. “I wanted to make sure Rielle didn’t run from me. And you won’t, will you? Not with all these very important men so dangerously close to me.”
“You won’t hurt them.” She shook her head, her voice cracking. “I forbid it.”
“Queen of my heart,” murmured Corien, putting a gloved hand to his chest, “my greatest wish is to please you. But you must promise to leave this place with me, tonight, or I’m sorry to say you will force my hand.”
Panic and craving waged a war in her chest. “But I can’t, I need more time.”
“More time? For what? To be poked and prodded, studied by lecherous magisters and ordered around by an idiotic king too frightened to face the truth?”
Lord Dervin stared at his hands. “I never meant for this to happen.”
Corien laughed. “As if you could have stopped it!”
“Rielle, who is this man,” her father demanded, “and why does he talk to you this way?”
“He’s an angel,” Rielle bit out.
Corien’s eyes flared with displeasure, even as his smile grew.
King Bastien drew his sword. So did Rielle’s father, shoving her behind him.
“That’s impossible.” King Bastien looked as though someone had kicked him in the gut. “The Gate is strong. It was meant to hold for—”
“For a long time,” Corien snapped. “Not forever. Rielle, it’s time to go. Unless you’d like me to demonstrate firsthand what I’m capable of?”
Rielle swallowed hard and moved toward him, her power itching to touch him even as her mind screamed to stay put—but her father threw out his arm and stopped her.
“You will stay away from my daughter, whatever you are,” he said, “or I will—”
“Do what? Kill me?” Corien chuckled. “My dear man, I’d like to see you try.”
Rielle’s father didn’t hesitate. He lunged at Corien, raised his sword to strike. Then his body jerked, his eyes clouded over, and his sword crashed to the ground.
“No!” Rielle ran to him.
He looked at her, head tilted unnaturally to the side, and struck her hard across the face.
Rielle staggered to the cave wall. When she touched her lip, her fingers came away red.
“Interesting,” said Corien calmly. “I only told him to stop you. His mind was the one that chose to strike you.” He turned to her, and she could feel through their connection a twinge of genuine sadness. “Could your father be angry at you for something? I thought you two had put that mess behind you.”
Rielle glared at him. “Release him, or I will destroy you.”
“If you try, they’ll be dead before I hit the ground.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “I thought you…”
“That I loved you?” Corien’s face softened. “Child, I love you more than I can say. I’m doing this for you. If you don’t leave them, they will stifle, shame, and punish you for daring to breach the walls they are building around you.”
He approached her slowly. “They will use every memory you share with them—every sweet feeling, every kind moment—to wring out all the power they can from that miraculous body of yours. And they won’t stop, or even consider sparing you, because they will be too afraid of what faces them. If you hesitate, they will remind you of their supposed love for you and chain you with it until you back down and do as you’re told.”