Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

TRESSYA

So far there was no news of any disturbances at Emberforge. The queen had fallen asleep and missed my arrival. I'd made it back to the carriage with enough time to practice looking bored.

The deep skirt and coat with doublets was a ridiculous riding habit, but it was the only outfit I had that was appropriate. Back home, I shunned convention, riding in breeches, and got away with it because I mostly rode alone. Radnisa had risen early and laid the outfit out. She glared at me while I dressed, not wanting to miss another moment to gloat over the misfortune of my life.

Father kept a stable of purebreds for hunting, and King Henricus housed them in a castle. Not even the stable hands were up, so I could take my time strolling along the stalls, eyeing each of the horses. There was a pinch in my chest, and I clutched at the bone carving while I swallowed the lump. It would get easier with each passing day to forget Carlin and the small things that reminded me of our time together.

The animals were in perfect health, large and muscular, and I longed to ride freely by myself rather than being confined to the crown prince's side. Expecting food, the horses came toward me as I passed, some snorting and pawing at their hay, disguising the noises coming from the last stall.

I stilled in shock, my mind slow to recover, so I remained staring at Andriet and his guard lover locked in a feverish kiss, torsos stripped bare, limbs entwined, so thoroughly lost in each other. I should've ducked back to the previous stall or averted my eyes, and I was about to, but something in their shared hunger for each other stilled me. The guard's midnight skin contrasted against Andriet's pale body like the night sky meeting the soft glow of a silver moon. My body tingled alive at the wet sounds of their intense kisses and the fever they both shared. It hadn't been long ago I felt that desperate passion, and yet it felt like an eternity. I almost sobbed at the ache that cleaved through my heart. The loneliness tore a wound through my soul.

I'd made no sound, so it had to be the heat of my stare that alerted Andriet to my presence. Our eyes locked as he broke their kiss. An instant wash of heat flared up my throat into my cheeks as he jumped away from the guard.

"Tressya," he cried.

On seeing me, the guard covered his face as if in shame, then turned away, slinking down to the hay to retrieve his clothes. Too many people in my life had made me feel that way. Curses, that I would be someone to make another feel so wrongfully judged.

"I'm sorry," I snapped. "I didn't mean to…" Stare .

"Tressya. It's not?—"

"No, don't." Apologize . This was humiliating. Not because of what I'd witness, but that I'd lingered, gawking at them.

The guard hurried to dress, doing a poor job. And I was perhaps making things worse by remaining to watch.

"I'll just?—"

"Please, Tressya, let me explain." The pale skin on Andriet's chest turned red, the flush making its way up his neck and into his cheeks.

"There's nothing to explain." Then I winced. Did that sound dismissive? I turned my back, allowing them to dress while trying to shut out the sounds of their whispered exchange.

Once dressed, the guard rushed out of the stall and past me without glancing my way. Then, remembering himself, he doubled back and bowed, but he couldn't raise his head to meet my eyes. This was a disaster, but he fled before I could say anything to ease his shame.

I swiveled to face Andriet, wanting to soothe his humiliation, and found him buried in his tunic as he slipped it over his head. Now was the time to avert my gaze. I didn't. My eyes followed the striation of muscle along his flank as he bent to retrieve more clothing. He was lean but muscular, with a fine sheen of fair hair across his chest.

He took his time dressing, averting his eyes all the while until I could no longer hold my tongue. I moved across to the stall door as Andriet straightened, boots in hand.

"He… Ah… buttoned himself up crooked." Really? That's what I had to say as comfort?

Andriet looked as though he would curl in on himself, and I almost wept from the mortification in his eyes. I couldn't bear the devastation shadowing his features to make him look drawn and aged.

On seeing he was about to speak, I raised on my toes and placed my fingers over his lips. "I don't want to hear any apology. It's I that should apologize."

He pulled my fingers from his lips. But I used my other hand, smothering his mouth again. "I'm not that kind of princess, remember?"

I took both his hands and guided him along. "We can't steer our hearts." Then I slipped my arm through his, tucked myself in beside him, and walked us back along the horses' pens. "It's very clear you love him."

"I…" he shook his head.

I turned to face him, taking both his hands. "This is the most important thing you must learn about me. I would never judge a true and honest love. So few will ever feel it. So if you're one of the lucky few to have found it, then I say keep it safe and treasure it."

He seized my face between his palms. "I can't believe you. How did my brother become so fortunate and be such an idiot not to realize?"

I pressed my hands against his. "All we can do is take pity on the fools."

He chuckled, then sighed, dropping his hands as his expression turned, reflecting the sodden days that seemed to plague Tarragona. "You're right. I love Daelon. I've always loved him. We grew up together, you see. Sword fighting with wood until we were old enough to use blades. We were both confused by our feelings toward each other and too shy to voice them. Until they became too big, too intense to ignore."

He collapsed against the wood pillar, staring out the stable door. "But we're doomed. I have my duty as prince. Father's already scheming his next alliance. My head's on the block. I'll be married and forced to spend my life with someone I could never love. How will she ever understand?"

I went to him and rested a hand on his cheek, feeling the warm clamminess of his partially dry sweat. "Believe me, there is no one more understanding of how you feel than the woman standing in front of you."

He stretched his neck back and groaned. "It happened to you, didn't it?"

"Forbidden love. It's a joy. And a curse."

He leaned down and gently pressed his forehead to mine. "We can only rejoice in feeling the pain of our loss, for if we felt nothing, our hearts would be nothing but stone." He then placed a finger under my chin to lift my eyes to his. "We shall endure our broken hearts together."

"No. We'll do more than that. We'll survive. That I fervently promise because I am sick of enduring."

I'd endured my life in my father's court thanks to Carlin. Far away from my seat of peace, I would find a new way to survive. The Mother had forced her will upon me by burying the mysterious dark mist within and nurturing a dormant talent. I would harness what grew inside of me to whatever end so that I would have the strength to shape my fate beyond my constraints, by whatever means necessary.

Andriet leaned close, so I felt the moist warmth of his breath on my cheeks. "I love your vehemence." He bared his teeth as he said the last word. "I wish it was mine own."

"Don't worry, I'll hold enough for the two of us."

The vehemence Andriet spoke of was liquid iron in my veins, fast hardening to form the mold of my body. Perhaps it would surround my heart until that too became encased in iron. Maybe that would be a blessing.

The stable hands disturbed us as they arrived to prepare the hunting horses. We ambled out to sit on the grass, where we exchanged love stories as if we were carefree, forgetting for the while both of us were chained to lives decided for us. Nothing about this moment felt real. Not even with Carlin had I found the chance to be honest about my heart. If only the moment would last for eternity; if only this was who I could be.

It wasn't. And soon the king's party arrived.

Andriet helped me to my feet while Lady Astaria's gaze roamed over my now creased skirt before skimming to Andriet with a secretive smirk. "Your Highnesses," she said in a wispy voice.

"Brother," drawled Juel. "This is really becoming a problem." He waved a finger between Andriet and I. "I fear what people will say."

It meant little to anyone that Lady Astaria arrived everywhere on Juel's arm.

"Nothing you won't encourage yourself, I'm sure." I curtsied in my usual graceless manner, then turned my back on Juel, so I wouldn't have to look at his face. "Which horse is mine?"

"I believe it's this magnificent dapple gray."

My eyelids fluttered closed with my inhale on hearing his voice, but nothing could stop my wild raging heart. Already the strange tingling feeling bothered my wrist at the site of his bite.

Blowing out my held breath, I turned, hating how my deep inhale did nothing to ease the chaos raging inside of me.

I avoided his gaze and instead looked the horse over. "She's magnificent." I meant it, along with my genuine smile. I loved a powerful, headstrong animal, one that required skill to manage. I ran a hand down her neck, feeling a muscle quiver under my palm.

Bloodwyn moved close to the horse's face, his voice dropping low, narrowing the conversation to the two of us. "She'll require a strong hand. She's barely tame."

"Spoken like a true male. According to your kind, all powerful females are untamed and in need of strong handling."

My body reacted standing this close to him, burning a hole up through my core, incinerating my common sense. Two days on from our time at Emberforge, mercifully away from his suffocating presence, and I remembered I was a disciple, but my body continued to fight against me.

Discipline . As a disciple, he was my enemy.

Do not forget that. If the Mother knew about the Razohan claim, maybe she wouldn't have tied me to the House of Tannard. But she didn't. Which meant my duty hadn't changed. The Tannard line currently upon the Tarragonan throne remained mine to protect. I would marry Juel and birth the next heir. It didn't matter that the Razohan filled my senses, so I could think of no one else when he was around.

Since my duty was clear, I should let everyone know who drank and danced and reveled beside them, and who had joined the hunt, while plotting the House of Tannard's end. But I didn't even know his real name or his real face.

Bloodwyn had convinced everyone of who he was, moving amongst them like he was one of them and no one noticed anything unusual in his mannerisms or countenance. Had the Razohan changed his features to look like Bloodwyn, or had he assumed Bloodwyn completely? If the latter, it would explain how he knew so much about the goings on in Emberforge. He'd skillfully milked Petrulus's mind of all his knowledge.

By the way they all accepted Bloodwyn, I knew I would have a hard time convincing anyone of my sanity if I announced him as a traitor. That was the sort of dangerous skill I was up against.

I couldn't help my eyes from following the gentle strokes he ran along the horse's cheek, like a loving caress. I licked my lips and turned away. The prickly heat coursing through my body turned the stupid riding outfit into a prison.

"Your Highness is an accomplished rider?" The purring sound of his voice speared a shard of longing like a red hot lance into my groin.

"Her Highness is a more accomplished hunter."

He arched a brow. "Excellent. I look forward to the chase."

"It will be hard to look forward when you have two stakes stuck in both eyes."

His chuckle left me speechless. I gritted my teeth and turned away. Damn that I liked the sound of it.

It was a good thing I'd finished dressing myself once Radnisa left the room after delivering her usual diatribe. Beneath my voluminous riding habit, I'd strapped one dagger to my thigh. I'd yet to devise a plan for how I would retrieve it in a hurry, but it was now warm from my body heat and pressed solid against my thigh as a reminder I was not without help. If he continued to distract me, I would stake him and be done with it.

"A friendly warning. Stay out of my way on this hunt. I'm guaranteed to mistake you for prey." I kept my voice low.

"Come now, princess. We had such fun the last time we met."

I looked around, fearing Juel and Lady Astaria were still close. Silly me. As if they would find my conversation of any interest. Juel was helping her onto her horse across the courtyard.

"I woke up with my sanity intact today."

Bloodwyn dipped under the horse's head, and I jerked away in surprise, but he caught my waist and pulled me closer. I slapped his hand away, tempted to step back, but I never stepped back from anyone.

He took advantage of my reluctance to step away and leaned down, our faces too close for decency. "You know who I am."

"And you're one breath away from everyone else knowing who you are, so move away and let me breathe."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I'm the legitimate heir to the throne."

"Two other males here can also claim that title." I was serious. I couldn't breathe because if I did I would smell…him.

"I said legitimate." He spoke with clenched teeth.

Discipline. No way would I allow him to think his proximity was affecting me. "Is this how you win hearts?"

"It's how I tease my enemies." He winked. He bloody well winked at me.

Curses to my body. What was it doing to me? I was showered in hot ash every time the Razohan got near me. My skin pebbled and prickled wanting to feel his touch.

When he leaned down to whisper in my ear, my heart felt like it tried to punch out of my ribcage. "I'm going to win, Tressya. The throne is mine."

"That's a problem because I intend to win." I held my breath rather than allow the smell of him to become a memory. Good luck, Tressya. I feared it already was lodged deep inside my mind.

"You don't understand what's at stake. If you did, you would abandon Henricus and his sons and come to my side."

"Because you told me to?" I scoffed, my voice rising too loud.

Bloodwyn glanced over my shoulder.

"Your arrogance is typical?—"

"Listen." The amber in his eyes became more like the glow of flames. "I mistook you for an intelligent woman, one who knew how to survive. I hate to learn I was wrong."

I ignored his belittling remarks. "I'll ensure you fail."

Bloodwyn sucked in a breath, baring his teeth. "You have no power to stop me. You can't control my soul. I've already warned you."

"Do you really think that's all I'm capable of?"

"Make haste, princess," Andriet came up beside me, breaking the stalemate of our hardened stares. "The others are about to leave."

I looked around to see the court had already mounted and was preparing to head through the gates.

"Yes," I said, sounding like I'd woken from a dream. Nightmare more like it. "I'll be right there." I gave Bloodwyn one more narrow-eyed glare. "You can never hide from me, no matter your disguise," I whispered, flittering my gaze across his body.

"I don't intend to hide from you."

"You can't take all of her attention," Andriet grumbled to Bloodwyn, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward my stirrups.

The cacophony of barks and whines from the hunting dogs filled the air as the horses snorted and pranced, growing jittery to the excitement building through the gathered party.

I swung up into the saddle before the stable hand could place the footstool on the ground, or Andriet could put a hand to my waist.

"Well done," he said. "You're a masterful horse rider as well, I see. Is there no end to your talents?"

"As if I would share my weaknesses," I teased, then, remembering who was present, I swallowed my smile and looked over Andriet to Bloodwyn, who waited on his large black gelding, his eyes on our exchange. I glared at him, wanting his attention far from Andriet, even if it meant placing it all on me.

The Mother would be furious if she knew how much I risked the House of Tannard by allowing their enemy to walk amongst them unchallenged. But I would allow him his secret for now. Besides, I was not without skill. His soul may be protected from the Sistern's power, but I was not defenseless, and growing even less defenseless over time thanks to my developing skill in the death arts. I welcomed him to be my shadow. As I would shadow him.

The horn marked the beginning of the hunt. The budding excitement unleashed once the king led the hunting party clear of the gates, and many spurred their horses into a mad gallop, inciting the dogs into a frenzy of barks as they raced the horses across the field. If the barking dogs weren't enough to alert the forest creatures of the hunt, the thundering hooves would send them scurrying to escape. It seemed the hunt was more for showmanship and not a successful kill.

****

After hours of riding, there was still no sign of our quarry, and the hunting party was now spread out. Some had lost interest, while others grew more interested in enjoying the beautiful day.

The king was intent on catching his stag and drove a group of noblemen to the south of the forest. I could hear the baying dogs, still wild with excitement, and their horses' pounding hooves. Andriet rode alongside his father. I wondered if the reason he was intent on keeping pace was to prove his riding skills in front of the king.

I slowed my mare, savoring my solitude. After hours on the move, she didn't fight me. Instead, she slipped contently into a gentle pace. At home, few could keep my pace once I was on a horse. Whereas now, I preferred to waste as much time as I could meandering over fallen logs and pretending there was no one else in the forest but me, so my frustration was real when I heard the heavy thuds of a horse's hooves.

Please, let that be Andriet. It wouldn't be because I last saw him leaning far over his horse's withers, determined to lead the hunt. It could be none other than my shadow. Fine. I felt ready to unleash some of my venom. Who knew, maybe during the process, I would trick him into revealing more of his schemes.

I glanced over my shoulder as the horse neared. To my dismay, I saw it was Juel approaching. Never mind. I had no intention of gaining my future husband's adoration, so he might as well feel some of my mood at being disturbed.

"The hunt has left you behind," he said.

"And Lady Astaria, it would seem."

"On the contrary, she's neck to neck with Andriet. The hunt stimulates her passion. She's quite the fire when she gets going. Not you. It would seem."

"I don't kill for pleasure. Only when the need arises."

He humphed, then his wane smile dropped, and he frowned, perhaps trying to work out my meaning.

"For the happiness of both of us, we should make an agreement. You're obviously thrilled with Lady Astaria and?—"

"Are you trying to dictate our marriage terms?" He sounded affronted.

"I'm trying to find a way forward between us that will stall my dreams of killing you."

"I beg your pardon," he spat.

"Let's not play games, Juel. Neither of us wanted this marriage. I'm offering you?—"

"Wait." He snapped. "You're marrying into the House of Tarragona, the wealthiest, most powerful lineage in the near realms. I command legions your father, ruling over his miserable little kingdom, could only dream about. Power lies at my command. I need only click my fingers, and women fall to their knees and beg for my attention. And you're what Merania gives me. The Crown Prince of Tarragona." He snorted a derisive sound before turning away.

With the hunt moving ever more distant, a lark sung out a call.

"A woman like you," Juel continued, just when I thought he'd exhausted himself, and hoped he would ride on. It was obvious I would get no cooperation out of him. "There would've been few offers coming your way."

He shook his head as he huffed a breath. "Your father deceived us, and yet we upheld the alliance when it was within our right to refuse."

I strove for my calming breaths. "Look, Juel?—"

"Who would want to marry a bastard? It's only because our heritage is so strong we bothered to contemplate such a union."

That word. After all these years; after all the times I'd suffered hearing that word and all the ways people twisted it like a knife through my gut, why did it still hold the power to diminish me? It was as though Juel knew it, stabbing it around whenever he could. His circumstances were far superior to mine, even without the title of bastard. He knew that, which meant he used it with pleasure.

Perhaps now he'd exhausted his anger he would stay quiet. Our marriage was coming too fast, and I wanted us to agree before I was forced into his bed. I had to make this as pleasant for myself as possible. That hope diminished now I had wounded his pride.

"What of the claim from the northern men?"

He reined in his horse. "What of it?" he snapped, then laughed, but it was dry of humor. "Are you suggesting they're more worthy? Maybe we should send you north. Those beast-men might well mistake you for one of their own. I'm sure you would take great pleasure in being?—"

"Oh look. There's a stag." Not a stag at all, but a young doe. Still, it would shut him up.

He glanced in the direction I pointed, then looked ready to share another scathing remark. Bother, he wasn't interested.

"Fine. I'll make this one mine." And I dug my heels into the sides of my horse.

She exploded from under me, but I was ready. Gripping my legs firm to her flanks, I leaned forward to give her her head. In my periphery, I saw Juel react likewise, and I couldn't help but smirk. No way would he allow a woman, and a bastard at that, get the better of him in a hunt.

Juel's horse was larger than mine. Its strong powerful legs vanished the distance with each stride, but the mare was swift and agile, weaving through the trees faster than the larger horse could manage. Even so, it would be hard to lose such an accomplished rider.

With our sudden turn of speed, the doe fled. Being so small, it disappeared into the thicket without a trace. For me, this was not about the doe or the chase, so it didn't bother me we'd lost her. I spurred my horse on, giving her as much rein as I could, determined to be the one to win because this had turned into a race.

Our horses soared across the ground as if they had wings. One misplaced step, and a fall could be deadly, but I was as caught in this challenge of wills and skill as much as Juel. Weaving through the trees, clearing fallen logs, we paced each other as though our lives depended on our success. It was more than our lives. It was our pride. The doe was long forgotten.

In places, the forest grew dense, forcing our horses apart. In other places, it cleared, giving us a glimpse of each other hunched low in our pursuit. Whenever our eyes met, I could read the furious determination set as ugly creases across his brow and around his mouth, his body hunched, tense, out of rhythm with his horse's stride. When his horse veered around a tree, he looked ready to topple from his seat, and my heart rose in triumph. It was his strength and skill that kept him in place.

We rode so fast the wind snagged my hair and sent it billowing behind me. The cold bit hard against my cheeks and found many ways to get beneath my clothes to chill my skin.

As we raced toward a large fallen log, I gathered the reins and prepared to go with my mount as she cleared the thinnest end. When her hooves hit the ground, Juel's sharp cry ripped through the air. I reined my mare in hard and spun to see he'd gone down. His horse lay across the lower half of his body.

I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a thrill, but the pleasure vanished when I realized his horse wasn't moving despite his howls of agony and punishing fists as he punched the animal's body.

There were two choices I could make; one I would love to take without a second thought, but that was not the choice I made because I was yet to be so hateful and cold as to turn my back. He was of the Tannard line, the man I was supposed to marry.

I dismounted and led my mare back toward him. His howls of agony silenced the birds and muffled my horse's clomping hooves, but not the beat of my thumping heart. My body felt numb, and a strange emptiness filled my heart the closer I came.

The blood quickly coated the dead leaves and moss on the forest floor, before mixing with the loamy soil to create a sludge under his right thigh. So much blood, it had to have come from his horse.

"I'm injured. Get help, woman."

I slung the reins over a broken branch and approached.

"Stupid woman. Can't you see I need help?" he squealed. "Of all my luck, I'm stranded with an imbecile." Then he let out a series of curses and long, drawn-out howls.

"It looks as though the horse's neck's broken."

"What do I care about the horse?" His voice rose into a high-pitched hysteria. "I don't care about the horse. For mercy's sake, you stupid woman, get me help."

The horse, he no doubt took much pride in, now pinned him to his possible death.

I crouched. "I can't move the horse myself. And I doubt anyone will reach you in time."

I was sure now the blood was his.

"What are you saying? You murdering whore. What are you saying?" He screamed at me, eyes flaring wide in horror. "Father will take your head for this." He looked at the sky. "Mercy on my soul." His eyes rolled back to me, his face a mask of vicious fury. "You murdering whore," he spat with as much venom as he could muster, but I could see his energy waning, see the exertion it took to mount such hatred.

The luster of his complexion, the soft pink drawn from the hard ride, drained from his cheeks, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out across his brow.

I bent lower, positioning myself so I could see his leg better as I tried to determine where the blood came from. His sword, which he'd not removed from his waist, had pierced through the leather sheath protecting the sharp blade. The glint of its polished metal caught in the weak sun's rays. When he fell, it must have severed through his thigh.

"Mercy, you wretched whore, have mercy," he cried. His voice broke, and his eyes filled with tears. Neither triggered any of my mercy. Was this the true feeling of a heart made of stone?

"I'm your betrothed, the crown prince," he croaked. Fear filled his eyes and dribbled out with every word he spoke.

I looked into his pale eyes, thinking how glass-like they were now, easily shattered. "And I'm sorry mine is the last face you'll see."

"Arrrrh," he growled, but his voice lacked vigor despite how much his fury clung to him. "You fucking bitch. I'll kill you." Then, mustering the last of his strength, he screamed for help.

It could've been instincts. Maybe it was my one chance at revenge, or perhaps my heart really had turned to stone because I smothered his mouth with my hand. "Die with honor, not as a baby crying for its mother," I hissed.

His eyes grew so wide I saw the rimming white, filled with fine red veins that were now pale. He grabbed at my wrist, but there was no strength in his hold.

I couldn't look at him as I held my hand to his mouth with my heart thumping so hard it felt like my body vibrated. A small part of me screamed, but a bigger part of me held my hand firm to his mouth and tried to ignore the way he feebly pawed at my wrist. I was going against the Mother's command, suppressing the screams from the man she sent me here to marry.

Would it curse me to act so vile and cruel? Mother, I hope you don't hate me for this. She was a disciple herself. Of course she would understand.

When he released my wrist, I still couldn't look at him. I stared out into the forest, my pulse violating my body with its harsh rhythm. I would never know what effect my choice had until it was too late, but right now, this felt like freedom.

Finally, when the warmth of his breath ceased, I removed my hand and turned away, rising to my feet. It was too late to make another choice, too late to act as a good disciple should.

"This is your home now," I said. "This is where you will reign, over dead trees, fallen logs, moss, and insects." I turned around to find his spirit hovering above his glazed eyes, staring vacantly at the sky. He looked at himself, at first in shock, then horror, once he realized what it all meant.

"You," he snarled and rushed forward until he was right in my face, his expression twisted in vengeful fury, and I tried my hardest to stay where I was and not stagger away from him to avoid his touch.

"Say what you want to say."

The fury vanished. "You... you see me?"

"Yes. That's my talent. But right now, I wish it wasn't."

"You murdering whore. We should've sunk your ship before you reached the shore," he growled.

"But you didn't, and here you are now, through no fault but your own."

"This is how you wanted it. Wasn't it, you conniving wench? You'll never be queen. You ruined your chance when you let me die. Father has no use for you. In fact, he loathes the sight of you. Bastard whore."

For once, hearing the word affected me little. "The dead can't reach me." I patted my chest. His words held no power to pierce my heart.

"No one will love you. Who could ever love a bastard? And an ugly one at that."

He jutted his face forward, and I feared he would get too close and force me to endure his icy touch. As of yet, he didn't realize how the dead made me feel. If he knew, there would be no end to his touching me. His handsome face was contorted with the poison in his heart, but I stayed where I was, meeting his glare as the thundering of horses' hooves grew steadily louder.

"They'll know you did it," Juel laughed. "You'll lose your head for murdering me," he shouted into my face.

We were eye to eye, with only a hand's width separating us. The pounding hooves of the approaching horses trembled through the ground and into me.

I screamed.

Juel's hands grasped for my neck. The ice of his fingers, like sharp shards, stabbed through my throat, filling me with the suffocating well of his rage. Losing my balance, I stumbled sideways, my vision blurring to an oily darkness. My legs gave out, and I went to my knees, sinking into a mud pit of Juel's loathing. His icy grip choked, while fear clung to me like a fierce giant's fingers.

I tried to rise to my feet. "You're mine when you die," he snarled into my ear.

My hands were at my throat, pulling at the collar, trying to release a grip that wasn't there, desperate for a breath. "Let go," I groaned, but his sudden and relentless assault left me without my wits. I couldn't think straight to summon enough determined energy into my voice.

"You're bound to this forest," I gasped. "Your power is over the insects now."

I screamed. It warbled out of me, dying and hoarse at the last. Juel loomed up in front of me. Leaning close, all I saw was the ugly sneer on his face. I doubled forward, violently retching my breakfast, my body falling through his as his wicked laughter echoed through my head.

Once I finished vomiting, I tried again to lurch from the ice of his grasp and his unending venomous emotions, but he clung to me like mud. This was my punishment for the choice I made, so I surrendered, allowing his spirit form to pass through me as I screamed. Again, and again, and again. No matter how much I drowned in Juel's chill and his unending hatred, I kept screaming until it hurt my throat.

"You can no longer affect the living," I gasped, panting my breaths.

"I seem to affect you," he sneered, holding his mouth to my ear.

"You're now a part of history."

The hunting party burst into the small clearing. I fell to my hands and knees, taking Juel with me.

"Help him," I begged through forced tears as Juel clung to my back like a cloak. "Juel, please, help him." Then I dissolved into wails as Andriet, the king, and many others jumped down from their horses.

"You fucking bitch. Stop it," Juel hissed, his face still close to my ear.

"He's…" I swallowed, striving to find my way clear of the ferocity of Juel's emotions. "He's… there's so much blood." I stumbled to my feet, tripping over my skirts, the hem now heavy with grime. "His horse went down." I palmed my mouth, then let out a wail. "Juel." The agony in my voice surprised even me.

Men were running. The small clearing turned to chaos. On seeing his father approach his body, Juel finally released me and shadowed his father.

"It was her. Father, it was her. Take her head. Take that fucking bitch's head."

My mind swam free from the weight of his emotions, but after such a struggle, I was exhausted. And I would play on that exhaustion. After all, trauma would make any woman faint. I covered my face but saw partial movement through my fingers and the concern in Andriet's eyes as he rushed toward me.

I gave into the heaviness in my limbs having struggled in a mental battle with Juel for so long, having worn every foul emotion his vengeful heart contained, and buckled into the hands at my waist, allowing them to take my weight and sweep me into strong arms. I turned to look up at Andriet, but it was Bloodwyn who held me secure to his chest.

He smiled down at me and murmured, "That was an excellent show, princess."