Page 122 of Haunted

He was wrong. When Niawen went into labor, I found her. It was a strange twist of fate. Because Kenrik took Niawen’s light, he was bonded to me, but he kissed her in their escape from my city before they separated and he went south.

That simple kiss forged another bond between them. Niawen had just a single drop of light that held on to a part of Kenrik. That’s all it took.

So he felt her labor pains, after she had been blocking him for months. Her pain was so extreme she lost control. She could not block Kenrik through her labor. Kenrik’s sympathy pains soaked right through our bond to me.

I would have by all rights felt them anyway, if Niawen and I were still bonded.

I learn everything through that labor, through the birth of my daughter.

Where Niawen is, in what part of the country. Whom she’s with.

Emrys bonds. A great tool.

A tool Kenrik and I use over the years to torment each other.

A bond that I nag him through—an infernal bond we’ve been unable to sever.

At least not by death. No matter how many assassins I’ve sent after the prince, he’s killed them all.

I don’t worry about him—much. He’s become a vagabond, because I swore I’d kill everyone he loves—from his king father to his prince brother and every cousin, aunt, and uncle in between—if he interferes with my life.

So he exiled himself. Oddly enough, to Morvith, across the Great Divide, where Commander Meuric came upon Kenrik and took him under his demented tutelage.

As I said, he doesn’t bother me much. The prince has his own problems now that he works for the empress’s brother.

That still doesn’t keep him out of my head from time to time.

Kenrik may be insanely strong thanks to Niawen’s light, but she has power—power she’s hidden from me. She thinks to keep herself concealed by frittering away her light until it’s virtually nothing.

She’s wrong.

Now that I’ve found her, I’ll always be able to see her light, no matter how miniscule it is.

My patience is insurmountable. She should have known it was only a matter of time until I found her.

So I watch her, Niawen, my lost love, from a crouch, in the form of a beast, a mountain cat I possess so I can stalk her.

Caedryn? What are you up too? Kenrik asks.

I snort. He’s listening today, is he?

How am I seeing through a beast? he asks.

A mountain cat, I hiss. She’s a pretty creature.

The cat moves into a crouch and peers through the leaves of a bush. When its ear twitches, I ignore its urge to scratch. I want to see only Niawen. My consciousness has been in and out of this beast for months, and it’s slowly going mad. It loses its will when I’m inside its head, and I haven’t been taking care of the creature.

How are you in this beast’s mind? the prince asks.

Oh, Kenrik. I’ve been using this trick for some time. I just haven’t shown you yet, but today, I have something extra special to share with you.

Niawen laughs as the wind blows her ash-colored hair. Her eyes are as green as I remember. A blistering need to possess her consumes me. I feel her inside me, as if we share the bond we had as man and wife. It’s just memory. We aren’t bonded by the light anymore.

Her thoughts and her emotions once attacked me with ferocity, and I devoured them, drank them up.

I would give anything for that bond to be renewed.

But circumstances are different now. Too much time has passed for me to consider her mine.

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