Chapter 33

 

The taste of copper greeted Zara before anything else. It was followed by a dull thrum at the base of her skull and the lingering sparks of pain all along her back and shoulders. She tried to sit up, tried to shift her weight off the lump she could feel pressing into the pillow, but even the slightest movement had her stomach threatening to revolt. The breakfast she’d consumed sat heavy and sharp at the back of her throat. She had to swallow several times before she could open her eyes to the piercing strobes of light, the swaying shapes, the figure perched in the chair next to the bed.

It was her room. She recognized the bed and its gossamer drapes. She recognized the scent of roses blowing the curtains gently over the mattress with every subtle breeze. She also recognized the girl sitting in the chair. There was no mistaking the riot of curls tumbling around bare shoulders, or the buzz of her inner voice complaining about all the ways Zara was lacking. It was nearly enough to make Zara want to turn over and stuff a pillow over her own head.

Lae rose when Zara groaned. Her shadow threw itself against the wall, pinned there by the lamp lit on the end table. The head bobbed at the ceiling, a giantess looming over the bed before the actual Lae appeared in Zara’s line of vision.

“Easy, miss.”

Zara groaned and struggled to shift when her entire body protested the decision. “What happened?”

She eased an arm beneath Zara’s neck and lifted her up into a sitting position. Another pillow was stuffed behind her, propping her.

Lae turned to the bottles arranged on the nightstand. The mountain of pillows hid most of them, but Zara heard bottles clinking and liquid pouring into glass.

“A guard found you at the bottom of the stairs. He said you fell.”

Zara tried to raise an eyebrow and was surprised to find even that hurt to do. “Is that what he said happened?”

Lae glanced sideways at her. “Isn’t it?”

Deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble, Zara let it go. “Maybe it did.”

She watched as Lae brought forward a glass goblet filled halfway with clear, pink juice. It fizzed slightly, creating tiny bubbles along the surface. Zara studied it as it was guided to her lips.

“What is this?”

“Just a potion to help with the pain.”

Zara sniffed at the drink, trying to identify the fruity fragrance. She guessed strawberries, but there was a subtle hint of roses and cinnamon, but that seemed like an odd combination.

There was a sweet tartiness to it when it touched her tongue. It spread across her taste buds in a silken caress from her esophagus to the inner linings of her stomach. She felt it settle somewhere deep inside her and disperse through the veins and marrow of her limbs, an ocean separating into the lakes and rivers that made her. Its warmth enveloped her in a satin cocoon of euphoria, of bliss, while simultaneously lulling her into a state of lethargy she wasn’t sure was normal.

“I don’t feel well,” she attempted, only the words seem slurred and fuzzy, even in her own head.

Lae took the now empty goblet and replaced it on the end table. She busied herself returning the stoppers on the bottles and jars, acting as though Zara hadn’t spoken.

Maybe she hadn’t, Zara thought numbly. Maybe she’d only thought she had. Maybe she hadn’t projected it properly. She couldn’t be sure anymore. Everything was growing hazy. The lights were becoming too bright, too sharply focused around the blur. Her ears were humming. Actually humming. A distant buzz that tangled with the drumming of her heart, which sounded much too fast. Its ferocity kept cracking against her ribs, sending tiny vibrations coursing through her.

“Lae…?”

Her fingers twitched on the bedspread on either sides of her hips, but remained heavily in place when Zara tried to reach for the girl. She tried the rest of her body. She tried to sit, tried to bend her legs, tried to lift her head, but everything from her eyes down seemed to have solidified into concrete.

“Lae, what…?”

“It’s all right,” the girl said at last, task of arranging the vials finally at an end. “It’ll be over quickly.”

Zara struggled to reach for Lae’s mind, but the heat was dulling her senses, slowing her gears so they kept sticking and clicking shut.

“What did you give me?” She couldn’t breathe. The air had thickened with oppressive heat. Her entire body was lit with fever. It rose off her skin in tendrils that matched the rays of sunlight at the hottest point of the day in the Isle of Cree. Just being near herself was enough to make her swelter. “What have you done?”

Lae had the decency to look away. A lock of hair draped over her face, obscuring it from reading.

“What … what did you give me?” Zara pressed, fighting to keep her eyelids from closing.

“Don’t fight it.” Carefully, Lae reached for the pillow she’d placed at Zara’s back and dragged it free. Zara felt herself fall into a recline position. “It’ll be easier for you if you just … relax.” The blankets were pulled away and cast to the foot of the bed. The gesture should have cast a rush of cool air to disturb the warmth along her skin, but Zara felt none of it. “He promised it would be quick.” She offered Zara a promising little smile, a healer assuring a patient that everything would be all right. “If all goes well, you’ll only have to do this once.”

“Do what?” Zara breathed.

Lae swallowed hard, working the muscles of her throat to match the unease in her eyes. She licked her lips and moved out of Zara’s line of vision.

In the distance, she heard the water running. It seemed to go on forever, or maybe it was a few seconds. It was impossible to tell when Zara blinked and when she opened her eyes, Lae had returned with a bowl between her hands. It was placed on the vanity, a dry cloth draped over the rim.

“Lae, please,” Zara begged. “I don’t feel well.”

Lae chewed the inside of her lip, looking on the verge of tears. Her green eyes met Zara’s across the flickering distance with remorse and an apology that made Zara’s heart sink.

“It’ll be okay,” she promised quietly. “It’ll wear off by morning. I added a couple of drops of sleeping potion to relax you. You won’t be asleep, but it’ll be quicker if you’re relaxed.”

Maybe it was the side effect of being in and out of consciousness, but nothing Lae said made sense.

“What have you given me?”

“Drosen. His Highness insisted.”

Zara tried to remember what she knew about drosen and was horrified to realize she knew nothing, except that it was causing havoc on her senses. It was switching off parts of her body, her mind that she needed and enflaming areas that shouldn’t be awake during such a time. It was fueling a need somewhere deep inside her that kept getting stronger the harder she attempted to push it down. Despite her efforts, a groan escaped her, a sound that was the very opposite of distressed. It was immediately followed by a pained whimper that curled her fingers into the sheets.

“What’s happening?”

Even the sound of her voice inside her own head was breathy, desperate, the husky whine of someone on the brink of passion. It would have mortified her if she could focus past the excruciating thrum pulsing between her legs, legs she couldn’t even move. Every strum sent a spark of electricity scuttling beneath her skin and tugging at the invisible wires connecting her clit to her nipples. The peaks shriveled to hard points beneath the satin confines of her dress. Every ragged breath from her pushed them into the fabric in a teasing game of pure madness. It was enough to make her want to scream.

Lae purposely stared unseeingly across the room at the closed doors, jaw as tense as the knotted fingers bunched together in front of her. She looked on the verge of bursting into tears, which gave Zara some hope.

“Lae, please don’t do this,” whatever this was.

Either the girl ignored her, or possibly didn’t hear her, but she didn’t move. She remained a rigid statue at the foot of the bed while Zara lay trapped in a body no longer her own.

A click at the door had them both flinching. They opened to a single, enormous figure clad in only a loincloth. Candlelight danced through inky strands falling free around broad shoulders. Brown eyes found and locked with Lae’s wet, green ones and softened in a way Zara hadn’t seen before.

He went to her as if Zara wasn’t in the room. His large hands closed lightly around her shoulders and he pulled her to him.

He said something too low for Zara to hear. Whatever it was, Lae nodded slowly, head ducked low against her chest.

Kyros sighed and planted a kiss to her crown before releasing her.

Lae wasted no time sprinting from the room, not even bothering to close the doors behind her. Kyros did that. He shut them, sealing himself in with Zara.

“What are you doing?”

“You won’t understand.” He turned away from the barricade, but remained on the other side of the room, a rigid shadow of apprehension. “You weren’t born into this. You weren’t taught how important … there are rules and traditions, necessary sacrifices we need to make for the good of our people.”

“I can’t move.”

Kyros blew out a breath and rubbed a palm over his face. He pushed it back through his hair and took a cautious step deeper into the room.

“I’m sorry, Zara. I don’t want this anymore than you do.” He started around the bed to her side. “But I’ll be as quick as I can without hurting you.”

Zara struggled to push up. Her elbow dug into the mattress, but there was no energy behind it, no strength. Her attempts were barely noticeable even to her.

“Kyros, please don’t. Please…”

He stopped, but he was still too close.

“The royal line needs to continue, Zara. That’s up to us. Our parents … my parents understood that. Tiana understood that. Once … once you’ve produce two heirs, a boy and a girl, we will never have to do this again. We’ll both be free to love whomever we want.”

“I love Magnus,” she slurred, fading even as she fought the rise of unconsciousness. “If you … if you do this, he’ll never forgive you.”

She was sinking. It was a painfully slow descent into oblivion, but she knew if she didn’t convince him before she went under, she may not want to wake up. She had to get him to see reason. She had to make him see what a bad idea this was, but words were beginning to fail her and she was running out of time.

“He already won’t forgive me,” he reminded her. “And this has nothing to do with him. This is family business.”

From somewhere, she found just enough drive to roll herself towards the other side of the bed. The effort would have paid off if the mattress hadn’t gone on forever in a satin ocean. All it did was turn her onto her stomach with nowhere to go and no way to get there.

It was by far the most frightening position. Not being able to see him, not being able to get away, filled her with a terror unlike anything else. She couldn’t even scream, and no one would come even if she did. She was at his mercy.

“It’s probably better this way,” he decided with resigned assurance. “So you know, you’re not the only one who would rather not do this. I would have given you more time, but you chose to be difficult.”

Blood hummed wildly between her ears drowning his words, but not entirely.

“Baron told you to do this?” she surmised with horror. “And you’re willingly going along with it? You’re a king!”

“It’s not that simple, Zara. He holds all the players. He owns our army, our lives. We owe him everything.”

“You!” she seethed. “You owe him. I owe him nothing.”

“We!” he growled back. “Whether you like it or not, this is your kingdom, too. These are your people. You are a Draconian princess and this is your duty as much as it’s mine.”

“If you touch me, it won’t be Magnus you have to worry about. I will slit your throat in your sleep. I will burn this whole place to the ground.”

“I don’t want to, but we have no choice.” He took her right ankle in a firm grip. “You’ll learn to forgive me.”

It was clear in that moment that nothing was going to change his mind. He had come into that room with the clear intension of following Baron’s orders. He had an heir to conceive and he wouldn’t stop until Zara had produced one, just as their mother had and their grandmother. Zara had a split second to wonder if they too had been given the drosen when he gave a yank of her leg. Silk hissed beneath her prone body as she was dragged to him. Her feet dangled over the edge of the bed.

“I can … I can make it feel good,” he said tightly. “So you can enjoy it, too.”

He was insane if he thought she’d ever enjoy it. The area he’d grabbed her leg blazed as though on fire. It felt contaminated and alien.

“Kyros, don’t. Please, I’m begging you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The only good thing about being numb from the neck down was the knowledge that she might not feel him. But there would be his weight and the motions of his hips, and the scent of his sweat on her. So, it made no difference if she couldn’t see or feel him, because she would always know what he’d done.

Yet that still wasn’t the worst part of that moment. The worst part was the buzz in her body, the thrill, the need to have him. It didn’t matter how hard her brain protested, how horrified and petrified she was when every intimate part of her wanted him to help ease the ache, wanted him to make her feel the way Magnus did. It was a level of betrayal she couldn’t even wrap her head around, nor did she get the chance to when his hands returned.

They brushed the backs of her knees as he leaned over her. Their heat coiled with his, making her skin prickle and her stomach lurch. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for it to be over. Tears soaked into the sheets, creating a dark, damp puddle beneath her cheek she couldn’t move away from. A sob caught in her chest, a hard sphere of razor blades turning every breath excruciating.

“Magnus!”

She knew it was useless. He was too far. Their link didn’t work. Plus, he’d blocked her off. But his name was the only safe place she had. It was her only escape from the fingers bunching into her skirt and the air that rushed over the skin being exposed.

It’s okay, she told herself, struggling for control. You’ll get through this. You’ll be okay.

Kyros took her hips between both hands and tugged her further back towards the edge of the bed and him, positioning her to his preference.

She just lay there, frozen from the eyeballs down, heart screaming, mind a jungle of terror. She couldn’t even sink her fingers into the sheets as something to hold on to.

The mattress shifted around her, dipping and rising with the motion of his form moving on top of her. One toned hand pushed a crater into the foam inches from her face. His weight settled along the length of her. His heat burned her through the thin material of the dress he hadn’t done more with than brush aside around her hips. He nudged her knees apart.

“I’ll be quick,” he breathed into her ear.

Zara sobbed, a sound that should have been gut wrenching, but came out deep and husky, the mewl of someone who didn’t want him to stop. She screwed her eyes shut tight, willing herself to go somewhere else, to close herself into another room where this wasn’t happening. She barricaded herself in her quiet place and waited.

Waited?

The moment she thought, the moment she felt herself beginning to accept what was about to happen to her, her eyes flew open. A deep surge of rage roared through her, venomous and loud. It ripped through the weak, docile creature she was allowing herself to become into an unstoppable, fierce beast unwilling to easily accept anything. She may not have had control over her body, and her mind may have been fuzzy, but she wasn’t a victim. She still had one thing he hadn’t accounted for.

She screamed. Not out loud, but in her head where she could do the most damage. She shrieked with all the force in her, every last bit of strength. She pushed the piercing range into the hills and valleys of his brain, wrapped them like barbed wire around his nerve endings and squeezed. She enveloped his whole skull in the sound, raising the volume until she heard vessels pop and his eyeballs rattle. He made a sound, something like a dog choking, but nothing else before he scrambled off her.

She heard his body hit the ground somewhere behind her, heard him writhing and struggling to scream. But the sheer intensity of having his mind invaded by razor blades stifled that need. It stole all his power, his strength. He was nothing. In that moment, he was completely at her mercy. She could kill him if she pushed enough. A simple snap of his vertebrae where it connected to his spinal cord and his whole life would end, but the most she could allow herself was to render Kyros unconscious as the last of her own strength weened. A dull throbbing echoed long after her mind had quieted. It rang between her ears in an electric hum. Blood bled into the sheets from her nose, soaking into the satin threads. Her heart clapped in applause and relief. She didn’t have the heart to tell it, it wasn’t over yet. Until the serum wore off, she was still stuck on that bed. There was a chance he could wake up before that and she couldn’t be sure what he would do.

But there was nothing to be done about that. She just needed to wait.

It was unclear how long passed. It could have been hours, or mere minutes. All Zara knew was that she must have dozed off, because a hand was on her arm, shaking her awake. She came crashing back into reality with a cry and a wrenching of her body away from her assailant. Her wide eyes sprung around the room, searching for the threat promising to destroy her and finding only a pair of enormous, blue eyes staring back.

“Valkyrie?”

She was cladded entirely in tight, black leather with her long, dark hair twisted into a French braid over one shoulder. A sword hilt peaked out just over her head, but all Zara could really focus on were her eyes, the clarity of them, the raw determination blazing in their depths.

The Harvester put a finger to her lips. “I’m getting you out of here,” she hissed.

She barely made any sound as she retracted off the bed, a sleek, black cat slipping into the shadows. Zara tried to follow her movement, but her body hadn’t fully regained its purpose. Minor feelings had returned, she noted. Her fingers moved and she could shift her neck slightly. She could feel her toes, but she couldn’t tell if they were twitching or not.

Valkyrie sprung back into view. She stuffed something into her back pocket and glanced towards the door.

“Can you get up?”

Zara shook her head. “They gave me something.”

A muscle worked in the Harvester’s jaw, intensifying the shadow darkening her face. “Yeah, they do that.” She crawled onto the bed and took Zara by the shoulder. “I’m going to turn you over and make sure you’re okay.”

She must have been, because Valkyrie seemed satisfied. The other woman smoothed Zara’s skirt down around her thighs and reached for her arm. The limp limb was thrown around the Harvester’s shoulders and Zara was pulled into an awkward embrace.

“I’m going to pull you up.”

“Kyros,” Zara protested.

Valkyrie grunted with the effort of hauling Zara’s whole weight. “He’s out cold. I have him tied up. He’s not going anywhere.”

“He’s alive?”

Valkyrie huffed. “Unfortunately. Now, come on.”

She saw it when Valkyrie managed to hoist her to the edge of the bed. Valkyrie, had fastened thin, plastic bracelets around his wrists and ankles, binding him like a captured pig. He was pushed onto his side, knees slightly raised to his chest, but not enough to conceal his nudity. His loincloth lay near his head, discarded.

Zara looked away from those, not trusting her stomach to maintain control, and studied the fine rivulets of blood trickling from his nose, ears, and the corners of his eyes. There wasn’t enough to cause concern, but he would definitely have a headache in the morning.

A ruckus by the door had both women turning their heads and holding their breaths. A figure appeared in the doorway, taller, definitely male. Light from the corridor surrounded him, a glowing halo silhouetting his daunting frame. It filtered through unbound locks with an auburn tint and glinted off the blade at his side. Zara recognized the frame even before he stalked deeper into the room, never making a sound until he was sprinting around the bed to their side.

“Zara.”

His scent enveloped her before his arms where there, scooping her out of Valkyrie’s hold and into his. The blade hit the ground, muffled by carpet and lay forgotten as strong hands closed into her dress, her hair and clasped her against a chest pounding as hard as hers was.

“Magnus.” His name was a whisper of choked disbelief.

“I got you. You’re safe.” He pulled back and took her face in one hand. “Are you hurt?”

He didn’t even wait for a response when shoving her hair back. Her chin was tilted from side to side. Then he was looking down the rest of her, searching, assessing, deciding for himself what she could have easily told him.

Physically, she must have passed his inspection, because he raked five fingers back through his hair and exhaled heavily. His dark eyes found hers. The hand at her chin gentled to allow the light sweep of his thumb pad to glide along the curve of her cheek.

“You okay?” he asked again, softer, gentler, with less panic.

Zara attempted to nod, but he missed it when his attention was averted to the fallen body of his best friend mere feet away. He straightened, already turning to face the situation he hadn’t noticed in his rush to get to her, but it hit him almost immediately what had happened.

His neck snapped back around to Zara and his hand was on her face once more. His fingertips bit into her jawline as he pulled her mouth to his nose. He sniffed.

Black eyes went opaque. His nostrils flared with the billow of rage that seemed to come straight off his very skin.

“Did he touch you? Zara!” he snarled when she took too long to answer.

“No,” she whispered.

He didn’t seem convinced. His eyes were boring holes into her, into her very soul. If her mind wasn’t so cloudy, she would have wondered if he was trying to read it.

“Magnus, we need to go,” Valkyrie murmured from behind him.

Magnus ignored her. “Did he hurt you?” he demanded, still glowering at Zara with a bloodlust that frightened her.

“No,” she attempted to assure him. “I promise. I’m okay.”

He didn’t move for a long moment, but he must have realized they didn’t have a lot of time to waste, because he bundled her up into his arms.

“I’m taking you home.”

She wasn’t about to argue with that.

Valkyrie scooped up his fallen blade and motioned for them to head out. But they barely made it a few steps when several more figures appeared in the doorway. Zara was surprised to see Serinda and two of her warriors standing with Liam on the threshold. Behind them was Lae, hands over her mouth.

“What...?”

Liam stepped forward, eyes on Zara. “Is she all right?”

“Drosen,” Valkyrie said in answer, and Liam’s eyes hardened. His mouth pursed into a thin, white line.

“Where is he?”

Valkyrie jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Hogtied and waiting.”

Serinda put out an arm when Liam started forward. “This is not the time for what you seek,” she told him quietly. “You will have your justice, but not here, not like this.”

“Wait!” Lae rushed forward. “You said that if I helped you get her, you would leave!”

Serinda faced the girl, face a carved mask of loathing. “Your king has killed a leader. Justice will be had.”

Lae realized the implication behind those words a split second before Zara did. Her eyes went enormous, nearly as wide as her mouth when she opened it to scream.

The warrior on Serinda’s right moved before anyone saw the punch coming. It collided with Lae’s jaw, snapping the girl’s mouth shut and flinging her whole head back with a crack. Lae’s tiny frame flew backwards, a ragdoll getting cast aside by careless hands and slammed into the ground.

She didn’t move. A fine trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth and crawled down to where a black bruise was forming along her jawline.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” she said curtly to Serinda. “I should have waited for your orders.”

Serinda shook her head. “Well done, Sasha.” She turned to the others. “As of this moment, King Kyros is under arrest for the death of Kyaerin Maxwell. He will be sentenced and executed for his crimes.”

“By me,” Liam added stiffly.

Serinda inclined her head once. “By you.”

She motioned for her warriors to grab the bound and naked king. The two stalked into the room and rolled Kyros in a blanket that each took a corner of. They dragged the unconscious king across the floor to the door.

“Will you be all right if we part ways here?” Serinda asked Liam.

Liam nodded. “The north thanks you.”

Serinda inclined her head. “I will send a messenger once judgment has been passed.”

Not waiting for a reply, she motioned for her warriors to carry on in the opposite direction. Despite the trio and their cargo, they made no sound passing through the corridors. Their stealth amazed Zara’s fuzzy head.

“They’ll be caught,” she thought lamely.

“No, Serinda’s too clever for that,” Valkyrie answered, making Zara realize she had broadcasted the thought. “Unless you see something?”

Zara shook her head. “Whatever they gave me has dulled my senses. I can’t hear or see anything.”

“Well, we can’t stay here.” Liam took Magnus’s blade from Valkyrie. “The diversion on the other side of the castle won’t keep the guards busy for long and we need to leave before they return to their posts. Plus, Gideon is waiting for us at the check point and if we don’t arrive on time, he’s sure to do something foolish.”

They turned left and moved quickly through the shadows. Magnus gripped her tightly against his chest, never tiring or slowing down despite the added weight. Even the patter of his heart against her chest remained steady. It was all Zara could do to keep from nuzzling into the side of his neck and breathing him in.

His arms tightened around her, and she wondered if he’d heard her. A question she never got to ask when they descended a series of stairs and found their way down a dark corridor. Valkyrie stopped them with one hand up when they reached a set of swinging doors. They made a quiet creaking sound when she nudged one open a crack and peeked inside.

“Okay,” she hissed, pushing them open the rest of the way and slipping inside.

Liam followed with Magnus close behind.

They were in the kitchen. It wasn’t the cozy kitchen at Final Judgment, but a sprawling maze of stainless steel counters and an enormous fireplace built into one wall. That was all Zara had time to see before they were cutting through the room towards another door on the other side.

“Hold on.” Magnus drew the group to a stop mere inches from their escape. He turned to his father. “Can you take Zara a second?”

Liam didn’t answer. He simply plucked Zara from Magnus’s arms as if she weighed nothing, and held her while Magnus shrugged out of his coat and swaddled it around her, enveloping her in the lingering scent of his body soaked into the residual heat left in the leathery fabric. He tucked it firmly in place before taking her back. He gave Valkyrie a nod and the Harvester shoved open the door.

No one stopped them as they hurried through the thick wall of darkness and delved deep into the forest. Their attempts at stealth evaporated with the snap of twigs breaking, of branches snapping, and snow crunching beneath their feet. Only light from the moon guided their path, and only once they’d passed the trees.

Reggie’s truck came into focus, a great, white beast hunched along the side of the highway. Gideon stood next to it, arms folded, body tense for anything. It relaxed when he saw them trample out of the bushes.

“Christ, I was just about to come looking,” he muttered, moving forward to meet his wife in the middle of the road.

Liam pursed his lips and exchanged a glance with Magnus as if to say, see?

“We need to go.” Valkyrie passed Gideon and moved to wrench the backdoor open.

“Here.” Gideon took Zara from Magnus. “Get in.” While he was, Gideon turned his attention down to Zara, blue eyes searching. “You okay, kid?”

Zara nodded.

Gideon lowered his face and gave her a quick sniff. He drew back, eyes narrowed.

“I know that smell. Do I need to go back and set that place on fire?” He said it lightly, but there was a hard edge in his voice that sent a chill down her spine.

She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

He made a humming sound that could have meant anything, but he didn’t push her as he took her to the mouth of the backseat and Magnus’s waiting hands. Together, they eased her onto the leather bench. Magnus caught her and pulled her in the rest of the way. He tucked her against his side, one arm circling her tight, propping against his shoulder. Gideon got in after her and Valkyrie slammed the door behind him.

“Good?” he asked his twin.

Magnus met his brother’s gaze over Zara’s head. “It will be.”

Whatever that meant, Gideon only nodded and turned his face towards the window.

It was while Liam was getting in behind the wheel and Valkyrie had claimed the seat next to him that Zara realized something—without her powers, without her ability to read minds, she had absolutely no grasp of basic communication. She didn’t understand subtle gestures. She didn’t get jokes, or properly grasp puns. They could have been speaking another language entirely for all the sense they made. The thought frightened her far more than she ever thought possible; was she really nothing without her abilities? She wanted to think she was, but given the proof in front of her eyes, she really wasn’t. She was nothing. A mute half breed with nothing to contribute. That made her useless. Was she really that useless?

She wanted to think no, but the longer she sat there, limbs dangling, body propped by the sheer grace of Magnus’s hold, useless was the word that seemed to fit best. Followed by pathetic and weak. It definitely made her appreciate her gift a whole lot more.

Not a word was exchanged throughout the entire drive. The silence was made deeper by the lack of inner voices she was used to hearing. There was an eeriness to the nothing that sent shivers along her spine.

“Cold?” Magnus tightened his hold on her.

She wasn’t, but she snuggled into him anyway and closed her eyes.

They were pulling into Final Judgment when she opened them again. The warm glow of firelight painted the windows a buttery gold, a welcoming heat beckoning her home. It spilled across the patches of disturbed snow, creating a long path in the dark.

Liam parked the truck and threw himself out into the night. Valkyrie followed, but circled the hood to Magnus’s side. She opened the door for him.

“I got her,” Gideon said, reaching out and steadying Zara so Magnus could jump out.

It was a dance Zara was all too happy to end. Being passed off from person to person, being supported and maneuvered, and positioned, had already begun to grate on her nerves. She was looking forward to getting control of herself once more.

Nevertheless, she said nothing as Magnus took her back into his arms and carried her to the house. His boots thumped on the steps, then the porch. Liam was already there, waiting on them before throwing the front doors open.

Despite the late hour, no one was sleeping. Riley, Reggie, and Octavian sat at a table littered with cups of coffee and untouched sandwiches. Reggie lunged to his feet when they stalked in, face lit with relief. Riley clasped both hands to her chest. Octavian merely sat back as if he’d known all along that everything would end well.

“You got her!” Reggie exclaimed, beaming.

“Is she okay?” Riley added, then realized Zara could probably speak for herself and added, “Are you okay?”

“They gave her drosen,” Valkyrie volunteered, stalking deeper into the room, a furious soldier on a mission. “He had her locked in a room with him.”

The hands at her heart flew up to cover Riley’s gaping mouth. “Oh! Oh, Zara, I...” She looked to Valkyrie helplessly, then back. “Why don’t we get you in a hot bath and some fresh clothes?”

That seemed to be the final decision. Magnus followed a fussing Riley upstairs to the room Zara had been given, not the room she’d shared with him. It probably meant nothing, but the fact that he hadn’t taken her to his room hurt. It was made worse by the fact that he immediately left the moment he’d set her down on the toilet.

Riley hovered by the door, looking small and uncertain, nibbling on her bottom lip. Her fangs kept puncturing the soft curve, but she didn’t seem to notice the beads of blood welling up from the holes.

Finally, she hurried forward and snapped the faucet on. Steam and the roar of water filled the small space, a drastic change from the spacious chamber she’d had at the castle, but infinitely more comfortable.

While it filled, Riley dumped a large helping of the lavender liquid Kyaerin had given her into the stream. It frothed the moment it hit the water and foamed. Its floral scent plumed into the air, filling it with calm.

She set a towel out and unearthed a sleeping gown from one of the dressers in the next room. She arranged a comb and elastic on the counter. She did everything, except glance at Zara, or say a word. She almost seemed too afraid to stop.

“Riley.”

Crimson eyes bright with tears finally found her. “Yeah?”

“I’m all right,” she promised, and even offered her a half smile.

Riley sniffled and looked away. “I’m sorry. I’m being an emotional wreck and you don’t need that right now.” She cleared her throat and set her face to determined. “It’s going to be okay,” she told Zara firmly. “You’re safe now and we’re not going to let them take you again.” With that decided, Riley reached for her. “Do you need help getting the dress off?”

The numb sensation hadn’t left her arms from the elbows down or her legs from the knees down. Most of her upper body felt normal again, which was a huge relief.

“Yes, please.”

Riley wasted no time undoing the metal hoop and sliding the fabric off her. It was tossed into the corner by the toilet, in a heap inside the trash bin. Then she ducked under Zara’s arm and helped her up, but without sensation in her feet, they refused to move, and Riley was left struggling to pull Zara to the edge of the tub.

“You’re going to drown her.”

Valkyrie marched into the room, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. She took Zara’s other side and together, they lowered her into the bath.

Riley exhaled loudly. “That wasn’t so bad.” She ignored the raised eyebrow Valkyrie shot her. “Why don’t you sit back and I’ll do your hair.”

Valkyrie made herself at home on the toilet seat while Riley busied herself washing and rinsing all of Zara’s hair. Neither woman spoke, but they seemed to be waiting for something. Valkyrie even had her elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped together between them, patiently watching Zara.

“I’m really all right,” she told them.

Both women exchanged glances. Only Valkyrie lowered her gaze.

Riley faced Zara. “We know what that stuff does, and whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. You need to believe that.”

It took her a second, but their concern finally made sense. The look on Valkyrie’s face, the tension running in ripples all along her rigid spine, the white line of her lips mashed together, the way Riley looked on the verge of tears.

“Nothing happened,” she whispered, her own throat bunched up.

No one had ever cared about what happened to her. No one had ever cared enough to sit with her in case she needed someone to talk to, or in case she needed to cry. Even during her two years with Suazar, none of the other children had gone to comfort those who returned the morning after, bloody, bruised, and in so much pain they begged for death. It just wasn’t done.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t cared, but they were all in the mindset that at least it wasn’t them. So long as someone else was getting hurt, they had another day where they weren’t. Zara had understood it. It was natural.

This was something new. Their presence, their willingness to be there for her after everything was the thing that made her want to weep.

“Okay,” Riley said with a small smile. “That’s good, but if you want to talk, or need anything...”

She let the offer drift into the air. It tangled with the scent of lavender and steam. Valkyrie said nothing, but she didn’t disagree. She met Zara’s gaze, blue against violet. It was the kindest Zara had ever seen the Harvester.

“You came for me.”

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. “Did you think we wouldn’t? It was stupid of you to leave in the first place.”

“I thought it was what everyone wanted,” Zara confessed. “You especially.”

The other woman lowered her chin and peered down at the square of floor between her boots. “I’m not very good at liking people,” she admitted and shot Riley a glower when the redhead snorted. She went on, still glowering. “I’m even less good at being nice. I’m a warrior. I kill things. That’s my job.” She pushed to her feet, a beautiful motion of endless legs and grace. Her eyes narrowed down at Zara. “But you pull that shit again and I’ll kill you, understand?”

She didn’t give Zara the chance to respond before stalking out of the bathroom.

“She likes to pretend she’s all tough and bad ass, but she’s actually really soft and gooey inside,” Riley said.

“Shut it, Red!” Valkyrie yelled from the next room. “Or I’ll stake you in your sleep.”

“Soft and gooey,” Riley mouthed, and gave Zara a wink.

Zara chuckled.

Riley and Zara managed to finish the rest of the bath without any incident. Riley helped her dress and brushed out her hair. The strands were twisted together in a braid and fastened with an elastic. When it was all done, Riley shouldered Zara’s weight and guided her to the parlor. By the time they reached the room, the soles of Zara’s feet prickled with a thousand needles and she could feel the skin on her fingers when she rubbed them together. It was the best sort of progress, even though her abilities hadn’t returned yet.

Reggie hopped up off the sofa when they entered the room. He beat Magnus to them and relieved Riley of Zara. She smiled her thanks and let him take her to the spot Magnus vacated for her.

“How are you feeling, Zara?” Liam asked once everyone was in their proper place, everyone, except the empty spot next to Riley.

She deliberately avoided Kyaerin’s absence when meeting Liam’s gray eyes. “Fine, thank you.”

He seemed to stare straight into her. The weight of his eyes settled heavily on her chest, making every breath painful and tight, but they were absent of the hate she’d seen there the last time. That was something, she thought.

“So, why did you leave?” Valkyrie demanded.

“That doesn’t matter,” Reggie cut in immediately. “She’s back.”

She shot him a grateful smile, but knew it was a question she couldn’t avoid. “I thought it would be best for everyone if I did.”

“So, you went there of all places?” Valkyrie pressed on, no longer the woman Zara had met briefly in the bathroom, but the formidable and cold warrior princess.

“I didn’t have a lot of options,” she reminded the Harvester.

“Right, just run off to live with the people who destroyed your family,” Valkyrie muttered, folding her arms.

“Easy, love,” Gideon urged, settling a hand on the back of his wife’s neck.

“Did you expect her to sleep on the streets?” Reggie jumped in. “She had to go somewhere.”

“Why go at all?” Valkyrie retorted. “You don’t run from your family.”

“I didn’t think I had a family here. Not anymore.” She bit her lower lip, relieved that Magnus was behind her, saving her from seeing his face. “You all made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t wanted, and I don’t blame you. I let you down. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t.” Liam raised his eyes and locked them with Zara’s. “We let you down. I let Kyaerin down.”

“Dad—”

Liam cut Gideon off before he could finish. “As the head of this house, it’s my responsibility to maintain order, and to protect my family. I didn’t protect her. She never should have been there. I allowed for her to be put in harm’s way. Her death is on me and no one else. No one,” he repeated stiffly, staring straight at Zara. “I never should have said those things to you. It was wrong of me.”

“No...” Zara began, but Liam kept talking.

“I’m the one who owes you an apology, Zara. You didn’t deserve what I did. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, because of what...” He blew out a breath. “Kyaerin would have been so ashamed of me. She would have been appalled by my behavior. If anything had happened to you , I never would have forgiven myself.”

Eyes stinging, throat clogged, Zara could only muster a weak shake of her head.

“What happened?” Magnus demanded.

Liam never took his eyes off Zara, not once. “I told her to leave.”

“What?”

Liam never wavered under Magnus’s growl. He only nodded as if to confirm his guilt.

“Why would you do that?”

“That doesn’t matter—”

“It does matter,” Magnus argued. “You kicked my mate out of her home. I deserve an explanation.”

For the first time since the start of the conversation, Liam lowered his eyes to the carpet, and Zara realized he was protecting her. He didn’t want to tell his sons about her prediction, nor about her not telling anyone about it. She didn’t know what to think about that, except that she couldn’t let him take the blame alone.

“I knew about your mother’s death four days before it happened.”