31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

" W hat kind of training?" Eoin walks me through the castle, and we stop in the great hall.

I want to tell him, but I've drug it out so long now, I fear it'll just make it worse.

"It has to do with my powers."

He nods slowly. "What did Luc mean you used some of his? Did you figure out how?"

"It was an accident. I'm not sure if I could replicate it again or not. I was dreaming when I pulled his magic."

He turns from the portrait over the hearth with creased brows and down-turned lips. "You can accidentally use magic in your sleep?"

"It appears so." I grimace.

"Horrifying." He looks around the castle like he's contemplating all the fae bodies inside who might do the same.

"How is your mage training going? Razenna said they found a place for you to practice, and you found quite a few books."

His face brightens. "Oh, Bron, there's so much information here. I've learned more in the last few days than months at Ravton."

"That's great! Can you show me some?" I grasp his forearm, and he covers my hand with his.

"I'll show you tomorrow while you tell me what happened at the library. I've heard stories. It doesn't sound like you." The way he's looking at me, I can tell he knows I'm hiding something. There's hurt and something else lingering in the corners of his eyes.

"Let's get you back to your suite, though. It's nearly midnight."

***

A rhythmic tapping on my door draws my attention from the mirror. "Just a minute," I mumble through the hair tie in my mouth. I finish braiding my hair and tie it off on my way to the door.

"Don't make me wait again." August grumbles and extends his hand. I take it, and we phase.

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. We stand in the middle of the library courtyard near the water fountain. Candles are scattered across the fountain, ground, and nearby tables, casting the stone fountain and bookcases in warm, flickering light.

Ciaran appears near the fountain holding a drinking horn. I jump, and he smirks. This is far too eerie of a setting for males to appear out of nowhere.

"I thought only royal bloodlines could do that." My voice feels too loud in the dark, vast courtyard.

"Ciaran is my cousin and next in line for the throne, as I have no children." August walks toward Ciaran and takes the horn. The muscles in his back flex as he leans back, drinking the contents. I want to tell him to put his shirt on again. His body is distracting, and my mind replays my memorable dream with him.

"And the general of your armies?" I ask.

He wipes the corners of his mouth—blood. He's drinking blood. "You wouldn't trust the second in line with so much power?" he asks.

"Most people wouldn't." My eyes dance between August's drinking horn and Ciaran.

August shrugs and walks into a nearby aisle. He returns with a gold-framed mirror and leans it against the fountain's base.

"I had Ciaran bring me fresh blood. I don't want to go into this hungry." His eyes catch on my neck, and I swallow hard. He disappears into the aisle again and returns with a series of ropes. "I also had Lydia clear the library out tonight. No one is here to see or hear what is going on, and more importantly, no one is around to potentially be hurt."

"W…what sort of training are we doing in here?" I ask. My voice is soft and shakes ever so slightly.

"I think we can both agree; you don't have control of your darkness, and she's dangerous. We need to coax her out." He untangles the ropes in his hand before he continues. "You don't know what you're doing. I'm going to tie you up, so you're less likely to hurt yourself or run loose."

"The hell you are," I say and step back towards an aisle. He steps towards me, rope in hand, and my throat closes. I squeeze my eyes shut, images of that night on the castle wall flashing through my mind.

"I'm not going to tie you up unless you explicitly agree," he says, "but you agreed to let me train you. I promise you this will help, and you have my word; I will release you as soon as you regain control."

A part of me wants to run out of the labyrinth, and a deeper, darker part of myself wants him to tie me up and do as he pleases with me.

"What will happen if I let you?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

"We will coax her out, and you'll work on regaining control."

I suppose I really need to learn this skill soon. And clearly, it's time to fess up to Eoin. Maybe if I regain some control, things will go over better during our talk. "Okay," I say, the reality of my problem sinking in. "Let's do it. I'll do whatever it takes."

He points to an open circle on the ground surrounded by candles. "Kneel. Sit back on your heels."

His voice is gruff and authoritative. I do as he says.

He separates three long strands of rope. "There's a reason I've chosen this kind of rope." He kneels beside me and pushes my knees farther apart. A growing sense of unbridled desire blooms within me, and I wonder if he can hear my racing heart.

He loops a double-column tie around my thigh and ankle and loops it several more times before making a square knot inside my thigh. His hands work between my legs, tying the final knot. I can feel the warmth of his hands near the apex of my thighs, and my racing heartbeat descends so low I squirm a little. He pauses and looks into my eyes. The air around me charges slightly and I pull in reflexively.

August clears his throat and continues. "I chose this rope because I thought it might have an effect on you." He grabs the second strand of rope and begins tying my left ankle to my thigh. I take notice of the rope—ultra light pixie spun rope.

"In your experience, what sort of state have you been in whenever she takes over?"

"Absolute terror," I say, barely above a whisper. I see where this is going, and I don't like it.

"In order to coax her out, I'll need to frighten you," he says gently, fingers once again inside my thighs. I swallow hard, fear now matching my arousal. He grabs the last strand of rope and gestures for my hands. I hold them out to him, trembling slightly. He ties them swiftly and loops a strand around the back of my neck, restricting most of my arm movements.

"Lesson one: your darkness is a tiny piece of the goddess who blessed you. Her primary function was to shield you from harm, which she did generations ago, as you are clearly fin-less." He gestures to my bound legs. "Modern scholars believe the remnants of this blessing carry on, in that she will sometimes appear to protect you. There is no reason for you to fear your darkness, but she can be a threat to others. The sooner you can reconcile that, the faster you'll be able to gain control." He adjusts the mirror slightly, angling it towards me.

He brings out another length of rope. "I will not be gentle, and I won't stop until she emerges." My mouth goes dry, and I try to stand, ropes straining against my legs. How can I be so aroused and scared at the same time?

"I can choke you," he says, holding out the last length of rope, "or I can try biting you."

I stare at the rope, and my stomach churns. "Please don't choke me."

His lips curl up slightly, and something about his demeanor changes. He seems colder, deadlier.

"When you feel the change, watch yourself in the mirror."

I nod. He walks back to Ciaran, and they mumble in an unfamiliar language. The anticipation of what's to come kills me, and I squirm, pulling on my ropes. I'm scared; I'm so scared.

Several of the candles around me go out, deepening the shadows and stretching my fear. August and Ciaran go silent.

Ciaran's eyes flash golden and focus on me. "Is she. . . projecting?"

"Yes," August says. "I wasn't sure if she could project or glamour, but it seems quite clear now. It's good, though. I need her scared."

Ciaran's eyes haven't left me. "She's unquestionably projecting, but I wish she wouldn't pull us into the terror with her." He shivers as if he's caught a chill, and I notice the hairs on his arms stand up. "My shield doesn't seem to work on it," he says.

"What are you talking about?"

"We've nailed down your second gift," August says. "You can project, not glamour. Feel your well, you're using your magic as we speak." He's right. I can feel it slowly draining at a steady pace. "You're pushing your emotions onto us, which right now feels something not too far from terror."

He turns to Ciaran. "I need you to stay for this. I'm going to bite her." Ciaran frowns. "I know; it's been a long time since I've bitten anyone. That's why I want you here. . . to make sure I don't lose control."

Ciaran's jaw clenches, and he nods. His uncertainty adds a new layer to my fear. He sits on the ledge of the fountain, and August approaches me. His muscles tense as he looks down on me.

He opens his mouth, and his fangs lengthen. He is beautiful and terrifying. "Remember the mirror," he says, and his voice is different—deeper and darker.

He drops to his knees with me and grabs a fist full of my hair, tipping my head to the side. I cry out, startled by the sudden aggression. His grasp is harsh, and the skin on my scalp is tight. He hovers by my neck and inhales deeply. My heart beats wildly, and my breath comes in rapid, shallow succession. I close my eyes and whimper.

He yanks my head to the side even farther and quick as lightning clamps down on my neck. The sharp pain of his fangs piercing my skin burns, and I writhe, trying to escape his grasp.

He lets out a low growl and tugs on me with his teeth, like a wolf with his prey. I feel that familiar pulling sensation, and my eyes darken around the edges. Just before I slip away, August's tongue slides over my flesh as he sucks.

The pain shifts to pleasure as I concentrate on the feeling of his mouth on my skin. Knowing that he is tasting me, consuming me, is lighting a fire within me like I never knew possible.

I reach with my bound wrists as far as the ropes let me and run my fingers down his abdomen, feeling his taut muscles. The air around me charges.

He releases his grasp on my hair and runs his hand down my backside. A small groan escapes my lips, and the air electrifies. Ciaran jumps up. There's so much energy in the air it practically vibrates around me. I'm not the only one enjoying this.

August releases me and faces me. My blood tints his lips, and wild eyes search me with desire and something else. He grabs the ropes on my thighs and yanks me towards him, tipping my knees into the air. The force of the motion has me falling to my back, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

A shield catches me and lays me down gently before I strike the ground. He's already on top of me and bites into my neck once more. His body presses into mine, and my blood heats.

"Shit," Ciaran says. "That's enough, August."

August lifts one hand in a vulgar gesture.

"I knew this was going to happen," Ciaran mumbles right before throwing his shoulder into August, knocking him off of me.

August stands and faces Ciaran, murder in his eyes. Ciaran matches August's intimidating stance and positions himself between the two of us.

August swings at Ciaran and is blocked. Their fight quickly breaks into an all-out brawl, exchanging blows and threatening comments.

Ciaran brings August to the ground and pins him in place. They continue to swing at one another, and a feeling of cold, heavy dread settles into my chest as I ponder what Ciaran will do if he overtakes August.

Just then, Ciaran looks up at me, fangs bared in a menacing snarl. His eyes catch the light of the candles and reflect like a predatory cat. The image is enough to send me back into a panic.

Cold sweat drenches me, and my heart races. I might be sick. I squint my eyes shut and feel that pulling sensation.

"The mirror!" August yells. I tip my head up towards the mirror and stare at my reflection. Like blood in the water, inky blackness spreads from the corners of my eyes, filling them until they're solid black as night. I lose all control as she takes over.