41. Chapter 41

forty-one

K allessa awoke with a start, her entire body throbbing in excruciating agony. A horrible, acrid stench assaulted her nostrils, burning her throat as she gasped for air. Her mouth fell open, whether to scream, cry, or simply make the torment stop, she couldn’t tell. But before a sound could escape her lips, a firm hand clamped down on her jaw, forcing her mouth to remain agape as a hot, pungent-tasting liquid was unceremoniously poured down her throat. She struggled against the iron grip, desperate to resist, but had no choice but to swallow the foul concoction lest she choke. Each agonizing gulp felt like a knife stabbing her insides, and each wheezing inhale was as labored as if she were breathing through the narrowest of straws.

After every ragged breath, more of the acrid liquid was ruthlessly poured into her mouth, while an unyielding hand held her head immobile in its iron grip. Swallow after excruciating swallow, Kallessa struggled against her tormentor, writhing in vain. Sobs wracked her body as the foul concoction seared her throat and insides. Finally, the merciless hand released her and she fell back onto the pillows, shaking uncontrollably from the agony that ravaged her from within .

A strange woman spoke, her harsh accent unfamiliar. “The prince must not see this. He wouldn’t understand and would try to stop us. Go check the door, Penny.”

Faint footsteps walked away, only to return moments later.

“He’s outside, behind the stables,” the other voice said, quivering, but almost familiar, though Kallessa couldn’t quite place it before the hard hand gripped her jaw again, forcing her head back.

“I’m sorry,” the harsh voice uttered, laced with something like regret, before pouring more of the scalding liquid into Kallessa’s mouth again and again. She choked and sputtered, her slender frame convulsing as she fought against the torment, until finally the darkness claimed her once more.

As the sun carved its path across the winter sky, Nevander’s gaze drifted toward the house more and more. Finally, he could take it no more. His body ached as if he’d just fought a battle as he trudged toward Wynlar estate. Exhaustion clouded his mind, each trembling step an effort.

Murmurs drifted from Kallessa’s room as he climbed the stairs. His brother’s voice. Nevander’s jaw clenched. What was Tarrick doing in there?

He burst through the door. The pungent odor of Shaydn’s concoction assaulted his nostrils as she stirred a murky liquid, her silver-blonde hair coiled tightly at her nape. But it was Tarrick who drew Nevander’s attention-leaning over Kallessa, studying her with an almost predatory gaze .

A primal surge of protective fury coursed through Nevander. He yanked Tarrick away, spinning him around. “Get away from her,” he growled.

Tarrick tugged his arm free, his expression one of mild annoyance. Gone was the lush from earlier; now he looked every inch the polished prince. His clothes were neat and pressed, his dark hair combed and face smoothly shaved. He looked as fresh and polished as Nevander felt disheveled and worn.

“It’s nice to see you too, brother.”

Ignoring him, Nevander strode to Kallessa’s bedside. Her flushed cheeks and roving eyes beneath closed lids sent a spike of panic through him. He touched her fevered brow, and she flinched, a voiceless moan escaping her lips.

“Why does she look worse?” he demanded, whirling on Shaydn. “Is she in pain?”

Shaydn’s icy eyes studied him. “Van, when was the last time you ate?” After a weighted pause, she added, “Or bathed?”

He clenched his fists. “Who cares?” he snapped, gesturing urgently at Kallessa. “How is she doing?”

Tarrick sauntered up, glancing dismissively at the bed where Kallessa lay unconscious. “I don’t see the appeal, honestly. She’s not nearly as pretty as that girl you had at the last winterfest. Remember her? The one with the huge—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish the crude remark. White-hot rage exploded in Nevander’s chest. He swung at Tarrick’s smirking face, but his fist only met air.

“She must be some good tail for you to care that much,” Tarrick taunted, leaning back .

A roar tore from Nevander’s throat. “I’m going to kill you!” He lunged again, but Tarrick was too quick. Instead, his brother’s fist slammed into Nevander’s temple, and an explosion of pain burst across his head.

Nevander stumbled back, stars bursting across his vision. The force of the blow sent him crashing into the nightstand, knocking over a glass of water that shattered on the floor in a spray of shards. He shook his head, trying to clear the dizzying haze as Shaydn rushed over.

“What are you doing?” She demanded, her harsh accent thickening with anger.

Nevander wanted to yell. Me? What about him? But no sound came out. A curtain of blackness crept into the edges of his vision as waves of dizziness washed over him.

Kallessa.

His legs gave out, and he slumped to the floor, giving in to days of relentless exhaustion. He could no longer fight it.

I’m sorry.

He desperately tried to raise his head, but he couldn’t. His body stopped responding to his commands.

No.

But the darkness ate at the edges of his mind, forcing him to succumb. And he crumpled, his breath leaving him in a reluctant sigh.

As consciousness slipped away, Tarrick’s words drifted to him, muffled and distant.

“Well, it seems he really does love her. ”

The words echoed in Nevander’s mind as oblivion claimed him, leaving him to wonder if he’d imagined them-or if his brother had seen right through him all along.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, Kallessa could have sworn she heard Nevander’s voice, but it didn’t sound right. A razor sharp edge of agony laced through his usually smooth baritone, followed by an anger as harsh as a hail storm battering against a windowpane.

She needed to help him, to soothe away whatever was causing him such distress. Kallessa struggled against the invisible bindings of darkness that held her captive, fighting with every ounce of her strength to break free from their relentless grasp so she could reach him. But try as she might, the inky tendrils wouldn’t release her. Before, the darkness had been an embrace, a haven from the searing pain that lanced through her, but she couldn’t hide any longer. Not when Nevander needed her.