When I open my mouth to argue, he adds, “I’ll take care of it,” with eyes that glitter oddly in the dim. “And when I’m done, I’ll come for you. I’ll take care of you. But you have to trust me. Just stay away from the Keep until I return.”
The look on his face seems blurry. But it’s also soft. Tender. And this time when he slides his fingers up my arm, I allow it. It feels good and I’m so tired, so cold. So achy.
For him.
A lump of misery flares in my chest. No.
Eogan’s hand brushes my neck and he leans in. His fingers pressing hard.
I force up thoughts of Isobel wrapped around him and what he’s done to me. To my parents.
No. I shove against him and end up banging my head against the wall as he slides a hand around my owner circles. For a moment, his face grows even more indistinct. Fuzzy. Like when I first thought he was the bolcrane.
“Nym, jussst calm down.”
Something’s wrong. “Who are you?”
Suddenly he’s on top of me, with both hands around my neck, choking me so I can’t breathe.
I bring my knee up, but he’s too quick. His leg crushes against my injured thigh, shooting fire through me, and in the in-between seconds before my lungs explode and my lightning flashes at the cave entrance, Eogan’s body wavers in front of me.
A hint of silver glimmers. His form grows smaller and paler and his eyes dim.
Until he’s morphed into Lord Myles.
What the—? The lord protectorate presses harder, but this time when my knee thrusts up it lands a hit in his man-treasures, sending him backward enough for me to fall forward on him, choking, coughing, gasping, blinking in his face, grabbing for which vision is real.
Then he’s swearing and clamping down on my arm, sending an explosion of unbidden images through my head—of him talking to me at Adora’s party—touching my arm—of orange hair stuck to blood on the floor, and Eogan’s throat being slit. And Colin being eaten by a bolcrane a few hours ago. They hit me one after the other in tangible, real-life succession until the realization settles.
He can manipulate thoughts.
“You were following us!” I shove his hand off and scramble away. Horror is dripping from every pore in my body. “Why? What are you doing here?”
The lord protectorate stands and limps toward me. “So you found your way through my ability? Impressssive. You know, the few times I’ve used it on you, I secretly hoped you’d catch on.”
The sky sparks along my fingertips. I hold my hand up and let its energy crackle, illuminating the air around us.
“I love the white hair, by the way. Very . . . Elemental.”
My hand snaps with the storm’s rumble. “I’ll ask again what you’re doing here.” I edge toward the cave’s entrance.
He takes a faltering step and grimaces. “Let’s just say I have a certain interessst in seeing the Bron generals succeed. And while by law I have every right to see you hanged, I thought it’d be more beneficial to offer a choice. You can leave the Bron generals alone and come work for me. Or . . .”
I raise a brow.
His hand flicks out so quick it’s on my skin before I can move, and a vision of Isobel and Eogan passionately kissing nearly launches me off my feet. It’s followed by Eogan stabbing Colin, then turning the knife on me. I squirm as the blade plunges into my chest one, two, three times before it reaches my heart. With a shriek, I fold in half from the impact.
I squeeze my eyes shut until, after a few seconds, the pain disappears. When I reopen them, Lord Myles is right in front of my face, smirking with those stupidly shiny teeth and offering me a different vision—the one of him and me standing hand in hand, raining a lightning storm down upon the kingdoms. But this time, an old, shriveled man with wolfish features is sprawled disgustingly at my feet. Dead. And there’s a crown on my head and a white dress displaying my neck, my arms, my hand, which is no longer crippled but perfect and beautiful. Gone are the memorial marks and circles on my skin.
I am perfect. Strong. Elemental. And I am in control.
It makes my heart ache with a hunger I can’t explain and leaves me gasping.
I stumble back and bump into Colin, but it’s the noise outside that yanks my attention. A rustling of horses and leather.
He’s brought others.
“The Faelen people—your people—deserve better,” I say, finding my breath.
“Which is why I’m going to give them a ssstrong king instead of a weakling.” The lord protectorate pulls out a knife and holds it up so the morning light glances off of it, then slides a finger on the flat side of the blade. “You can help with that, you know.”
A shift behind me and suddenly I feel Colin’s hand on the small of my back. I sense him hesitate, then roll over and slip away as I keep my gaze on Myles. I watch his eyes register Colin’s movement.
“He won’t last long out there.”
If he thinks that, he doesn’t know Colin. Keep him talking, Nym. “You honestly think you’d make a better king?”
“Not just me. You and I together. The most powerful Uathúils this world has seen. Just think what we’d become once I finish training you.”