Page 177 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

“Shite,” I mutter aloud to the darkness.

But I’m no longer terrified by the pitch black. I sit up, brushing blood and glass off of my clothes as best I can, and then I reach for my sister’s dead body. With searching fingers, I find the necklace with the key on it, and yank it free. I get to my feet and visualize the doors. I just need to find the one that has Nemeth behind it.

“Nemeth?” I call in the hopes my mate will answer. “Are you here?”

There’s no response. But I have the key now, and I know he’s close. I touch each door, and when I find the wall, I backtrack. He was in the second to the last cell, if I’m correct, and I run my fingers over the door, looking for the lock. When I find it, I pull the padlock off and toss it aside and then step in.

“Nemeth?” I take a step forward. “If you’re not in this cell and I touch a dead body, I’m going to be really mad at you.”

There’s a rustle of wings close by, and then green eyes flare to life, shining in the flat darkness around us. They look fevered and cloudy, but they’re still my Nemeth’s.

Before I can say anything, a familiar hand curls around my neck. “Good,” he says in a thick voice. “A hostage.”

And then he collapses to the floor at my feet.

“Nemeth!” I squeak, moving to his side. He quakes on the ground, his entire body trembling. I hear the sound of scratching and grasp his hands in mine, stopping him before he can claw at his neck. “I’m here, love. It’s me. Candra. Are you with me?”

He groans, and for a moment I think he’s unconscious again. Then, ever so softly…

“Milettahn.”

Hot tears spring to my eyes. “That’s right,” I say. “It’s me. I’m here and I love you and nothing is ever going to separate us again.”

“Dying…”

I shake my head, flinging my arms around him and hugging him tight. I can feel the roughness of his skin from the rash, the heat blazing through his form, the quaking of his body. “You’re not dying,” I whisper. “Your blood saved me, you know. Meryliese tried to poison me, but your blood and my Fellian blood saved me from the poison.”

A brilliant idea flashes through my mind. If his blood saved me…maybe my blood can save him.

For three days and nights,I lie in the bed next to Nemeth’s as he tosses and turns, caught in the grip of the plague. His skin is covered in a terrible rash and he sweats constantly, moaning and delirious. He has to be strapped down so he doesn’t hurt himself in his thrashing, and a magical collar placed around his neck to nullify his ability to teleport, so he doesn’t do something dangerous while lost in the fever.

I give him blood several times a day. I don’t know if human blood will kill him or not, but maybe the thread of Fellian that runs through my veins will be enough to save him. I watch my mate struggle with the plague, and I pray to the Golden Moon Goddess for what feels like the first time.

Strangely enough, my resentment of the goddess is gone. I no longer hate her or feel trapped to a fate I want no part of. Fate is just that—fate. It happens and sometimes we’re in control of it, and sometimes we’re not. It’s a relief in an odd way to know that the goddess’s anger has never been focused on me or Nemeth. That the constant storms and flooding and the wrath of the goddess was focused solely on Meryliese, who deliberately woke the tower’s curse to punish a people she felt had betrayed her since birth.

But Meryliese is dead now. Ajaxi, too. He’d barricaded himself in the highest reaches of Ivornath’s palace, only to be shivering and scratching frantically at his neck when he was found. Caught in the grips of the plague, he faded faster than Nemeth did.

We tried giving him some of my blood, too, just because it was the right thing to do. Erynne refused. It didn’t matter—the plague tore through him twice as fast as Nemeth, and I can’t say I’m disappointed that he died.

I’ve been told the uprising is a success, with Second House in control of the palace and the humans freed from their bonds. Things are chaotic right now as Second House tries to establish order. The humans are looting and being a menace, stealing food and whatever they can. I don’t blame them—I’d be an absolute arse to my former slaveowners as well—but eventually things will settle and we’ll have to figure out how to live together again, Fellian and Liosian, under the mountain. This is the only place with food and shelter from the incessant rain, so like it or not, we’re going to be companions for the next few years.

I gaze over at my mate, who is covered in sweat, a thin blanket over him. “Please wake up,” I whisper. “Please talk to me.”

“How are you feeling today, my lady?” Riza asks, bustling into our quarters.

I turn towards her, managing a smile. “Tired. Weak. Waiting for Nemeth to open his eyes.”

She beams at me, a tray in her arms. “I’ve got food and your medicine. Eat something and we’ll get you fixed up, and I’ll tell you the news from the palace.”

Riza gives me my medicine and I obediently fold my arm up, listening as she chatters. She has a thick, savory porridge for me, made (again) with mushrooms, but I don’t mind the taste. I eat it and sop it up with bread, knowing that I need my strength if I’m going to keep giving blood to Nemeth.

“Two new houses are infected with plague,” Riza tells me as I finish my meal. “Your sister’s blood doesn’t seem to do as much for them as yours, so we’re going to need more vials when you feel you can donate.”

I nod and take another thick chunk of bread. “I don’t think Erynne has the same amount of Fellian blood in her that I do. I think it’s related to my curse.”

“Whatever it is, we gave them the last of your blood and it seems to be helping. They’re sweating but no rash so far, so the healers are hopeful. They’ve been quarantined and only humans are allowed in to see them, so the spread should be minimal.” She nudges a bit of meat toward me. “Eat more. You need to produce more blood as quickly as you can.”

I make a face, but put a slice of braised fowl on my plate. If I make more blood, I can give more to Nemeth. “How is Second House coping?”

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