Chapter Eighteen Jasalyn

Chapter Eighteen

Jasalyn

"M Y BLOOD IS YOURS TO wield. Your blood is mine to preserve," the young fae warrior before me pledges, his dark head lowered in deference. "Blood for blood, magic for magic, life for life, I declare myself your servant." He slices into his palm, watching the blood well up there before making a fist and directing it to flow into the goblet between us. With a brief swirl to mix the contents, he lifts the goblet to his lips and takes a drink.

They line up for their chance to bow to me, for their opportunity to bend a knee to the king they deserve, the king who would never abandon them for the sake of a lowly human. It is I who will protect their rights as magical beings. It is I who recognize their birthright as members of the fae elite.

"You honor me," I say, accepting the goblet from him. I take a drink of our combined blood and close my eyes as I feel his power—his magic, his life force—attach to mine. "Now your death shall never be in vain, and through me, you too shall reign forever."

The hands are everywhere, holding me down while his magic cuts into my skin like a hot knife sliding through butter. He always makes me meet his eyes. "Look at me, little human. Why are you so scared? Together we can rule the world."

"Look at me, Jasalyn." Hands on my shoulders, rough fingers on my chin. "Look at me. Come back to me."

The voice cuts through the fog of my nightmare, but the memory pins me down like those too-strong hands. "Wake up, little human."

"Please, Jas. Look at me."

I blink and focus on the blue eyes in front of me. Blue. Not silver. Not Mordeus. "Kendrick," I whisper, and I lean forward to kiss him—to touch those lips to mine. Because I need to. It's what I want, and something nameless drives me to take . The comfort of his mouth, the warmth of his embrace.

He pulls back. Keeps me at a distance with stiff arms, hands on my shoulders. "No."

"No?"

"Jas. The ring."

"The ring?" I glance down to my hand, remembering—the ring, the magic, the kiss— and see where we are. My whole body goes cold.

We're in the forest, and the midmorning light sifts through the trees, casting dappled shade on Kendrick's worry-stricken face.

How did I get here? Did I black out?

A spike of panic has me scanning the trees, and I catch sight of Gommid a few feet away. His lips purse into a frown before he disappears.

"What happened?" I look side to side, searching for an explanation. Several yards behind Kendrick, standing with two horses by the trees, Remme and Skylar stare with adoring eyes that tell me my ring has them in its grip.

The last thing I remember is listening to Kendrick and Skylar argue. When did I put on the ring? Did I have Gommid take me somewhere?

"Jas." He cups my face, eyes scanning every inch and strokes my jaw with his thumb. "Where did you go?"

"I don't..." Dizziness crashes over me, and I close my eyes. I reached for him. I almost kissed him.

"Jas, look at me. You need to take off your ring."

The ring. That's why I feel this way. The ring is meant for the darkness.

But I'm shaking too hard, and Kendrick has to slide it from my finger.

We take two steps toward our friends before my head spins. The world tilts on its side, and I collapse.

"She must've snuck away while we were sleeping."

"We need to know where she went. If she told someone about our plans—"

"We can trust her."

"I want to believe that as much as you do, but the fact is she used the ring to sneak away in the middle of the night. We need to know why."

Their voices seem distant, but I know they're not far. I'm somewhere safe. Soft. Warm. A bed.

"Answers can wait. She's halfway to death."

"And is that the cost of the ring's magic?"

"Do you think she was telling the truth? About it giving her the kiss of death?"

"I'll go to the archives today and find what I can."

They need to know I blacked out. I want to tell them I don't remember sneaking away. I should call for my goblin. Gommid could tell us where I was. But I can't find the strength to open my eyes.

"I'm sure she had a reason for leaving and for going wherever she went. We'll get our answers soon enough."

"You're assuming she wakes up."

"She's going to wake up."

The last comes from Kendrick, and even though the rest of their conversation has my mind spinning and clawing to avoid sleep, those words soothe me. She's going to wake up.