Eather surged, and I didn’t attempt to pull it back. I latched on to the power—my power. I summoned it, thrusting out both arms. Silvery sparks erupted from my fingers, and I slammed my hands into the draken’s chest.
His feet left the floor, and he flew backward, hitting the wall across the hall with enough force to crack the stone. Then he fell onto his side, limp.
A strangled laugh left me. Holy shit, I’d just knocked out a draken. There was no time to be awed by my awesome strength, though. I spun toward the brown-haired guard.
Eather pulsed behind his pupils. “Shit.”
I threw my hand out. Power erupted from my palm, and something happened. The crackling and spitting Primal essence took shape in my hand, stretching and lengthening, forming a thunderbolt.
My eyes widened.
“Good Fates,” rasped the guard, stumbling back.
A low rumbling growl came, jerking my head to the side. The draken pushed off the floor, his skin thickening into scales and darkening to a crimson shade. His jaw opened, and his ruby eyes flashed a bright, shiny sapphire as smoke spilled from his nostrils.
I reacted out of an old instinct, one born of the Primal power I wielded. My arm cocked back as I prepared to throw the thunderbolt— What sounded like the moan of the wind echoed from within the chamber I’d come out of. A low, howling noise that rose into a shrill cry, causing my skin to pimple. I looked over my shoulder.
Something bolted out through the gauzy shroud, crashing into me. Concentration broken, the thunderbolt collapsed into a shower of harmless sparks as I fell backward.
Grasping it by the shoulders, I hit the floor hard. Air punched from my lungs as the thing went wild, shrieking and snapping. But it wasn’t a thing.
Even in my confusion, I knew it was the man who had been dead only moments before.
And he still looked dead.
His skin had taken on a ghastly gray pallor, and dark shadows had blossomed beneath his eyes—eyes that now burned coal-red. Pale, grayish-blue lips peeled back, revealing four long canines that hadn’t been there before, two on the upper row and two on the bottom.
Just like the fangs that had appeared on the seamstress, Andreia.
“What the fuck?” I gasped, shoving him off.
I scrambled away, my heart thumping as he landed on his side. His body twitched, arms jerking uncontrollably, and head whipping toward me. The sound he made then was like the shrieks of a hundred souls sentenced to the Abyss, sending a chill down my spine. He launched to his feet, coming right for me like no one else was around.
I stumbled to my feet, bracing myself— A shadowstone sword swept forward, catching him at the neck. His scream ended abruptly as the sword cleaved through, severing the head.
Stunned, I watched the body crumble, unable to process how the Chosen had gone from what I’d seen in the chamber to this.
“Fucking Craven,” the guard muttered, and my gaze snapped to him. A lock of brown hair fell over his forehead as he nudged the head with his foot. “Abominations.”
I’d been right.
What Andreia—what this Chosen—had become was a Craven. And the woman who’d bitten him had been something else.
“Your Highness,” came a raspy whisper from behind me.
My shoulders tensed. How had I forgotten about the draken? My escape plan? The Craven and whatever the woman was fell to the wayside. I searched for the embers and found them. They throbbed to life, a little weaker than before but still there. I stepped forward and twisted, calling the essence. Heat hit my veins as my eyes locked with ones that flickered between crimson and sapphire—
A hand landed on the nape of my neck, warm fingers digging into the side of my throat. I tried to lift my arms and step away from the sudden pressure, but my muscles went rigid, and a dizzying whirlpool of darkness rose, pulling me into the vast nothingness without mercy.
I dreamt of my lake and the cool, dark waters gliding over my skin as I swam under the bright stars.
Dreaming of it didn’t surprise me. This place was a source of good memories, and I was relieved that my mind had decided to bring me here instead of someplace terrible, but I couldn’t exactly remember what had happened before this. I had been somewhere in Cor Palace, hadn’t I? I wasn’t sure. Everything existed just out of my reach, clouded in mist. And besides, this…
I knew nothing bad could reach, scare, or disturb me here. Because I wasn’t alone.
A wolf sat on the bank of my lake, one more silver than white. He watched.
And I knew I was safe.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When I opened my eyes, all I saw were bars above me and the fragmented glitter of light in the center of the cage’s ceiling. And I felt the softness of a blanket beneath me.
My brows knitted in confusion. How did I get back here? I’d been in a dark hall, with—
“You’re awake. Finally.”
The warm, summery voice sent a rush of adrenaline through me. I shot upright and to the side, losing my balance on the narrow divan. I started sliding off the edge.
Kolis caught me by the shoulder, his hand flat against my bare skin. “Careful.”
I jerked away from his touch, pressing into the back of the divan as I reached down beside me, my fingers scraping off nothing but the thick fur of the blanket.
Kolis knelt before me, his head tilted. “What, pray tell, were you grabbing for?”
My dagger.
Or the broken glass cock.
I’d been reaching for a weapon out of instinct and honed reflex. “I…I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” A single brow lifted.
Stomach shifting unsteadily, I eyed him from behind several strands of hair that had fallen across my face—pale hair now stained crimson.
Fuck.
The attempted escape, what I’d seen in the darkened part of the palace, and my subsequent failure came rushing back. My gaze shot to the floor behind Kolis. The shiny tile was clear of blood and gore. I looked toward the chamber beyond—
“If you’re looking for the guard you senselessly murdered with an object typically designed to bring pleasure—though I must admit that was somewhat impressive,” Kolis observed. “You will not find him.”
I stiffened, and the lingering cobwebs of sleep cleared. I focused on him. He was dressed much like before, wearing nothing more than the gold band around his biceps and loose linen pants.
“He has been removed,” the false King continued. “And the chamber was cleaned.”
Breaths coming in short, quick pants, I refocused on Kolis. “Senselessly murdered?” I winced at the hoarseness in my voice.
“What else would you call it?”
“Self-defense,” I snapped.
His cool stare flickered over my face. “Did he attack you?”
“No—”
“Did Callum strike you?”
“No, but—”
“Then how is what you did considered self-defense?” he countered.
My lips parted in disbelief. Was he seriously asking that question? “You are keeping me prisoner. I do not need to be attacked to feel threatened.”
“You’re not a prisoner.” His head straightened, sending strands of golden hair falling against his shoulder. “You’re a guest.”
“A guest?” I whispered.
“A troublesome one,” he amended in that same flat, arid tone.