Page 70 of Enslaved

In the darkness behind my eyelids, I seem to see that gruesome reflection again. My own face. Covered in gore. Both eyelids sewn shut.

“Well. It’s done now, isn’t it?” My voice is shaky and small. “I’m back in Aurelis. Soon Danny will be home. I’ll serve out my Obligation and return to my own world. You and I should rarely cross paths. Perhaps never. We can be grateful for that at least.”

Silence. Then the Prince breathes out a long sigh, stirring the fine hairs of my neck. “You are such a fool,” he says, his voice a deep rumble. “But I’m the worse fool, I suppose. I see what is happening, what I’m allowing you to do to me. And even now I cannot seem to stop myself.”

“Stop what?” I turn to him then, eyes open, pleading. “Go on, Prince. Speak your mind.”

His brow puckers. “Will you force me to answer?”

I feel then the yawning depths before me—the terrible reality of what his answer, spoken out loud, will mean. Especially now. Now when my Obligation belongs to another.

I drop my head. Shake it once. “No. Fulfill what I have commanded of you, and I will consider your Obligation ended. There need be no further ties binding us.”

He takes a half-step toward me. From the tail of my eye, I see one hand start to reach out. But he stops. Slowly closes his fist. Then he turns and marches across the room to the door.

“Wait.”

He pauses. When I dare turn to look after him, his head is bowed, his shoulders set as though bearing a great burden. He doesn’t look back.

“What did Ivor pay for me?” The words emerge small from my lips but seem to echo in the silence of that room. “What price did you set for my service?”

“A small one.” He turns his head partially so that I can just glimpse one eye. “The opportunity for a word with you in private.”

My stomach knots. My Obligation might not be worth much, partially used-up as it is. But the Prince could have sold it for a great deal more. “And . . .” I stop, pinch my lips together before continuing. “Was it worth the price?”

“Hardly. My words are wasted on you.”

A tear slips from my lashes, races down my cheeks. “I’m sorry you made such a poor bargain after all.”

With that I turn away from the fire and march to the window. It is open to the night and looks out upon the magically illuminated gardens. A cool breeze dances across the trees and blossoms, rises to chill my bare shoulders. Down below me the fae dance and laugh. From this vantage, I spy a couple tucked away behind an arbor, locked in amorous embrace. Oblivious to the world around them, lost in a small sphere of pleasure meant only for them. I observe them from this distance, and somehow that glimpse of their delight only makes my heart harden and sink.

Behind me, the door opens. Shuts.

I let out a strangled sob and grip the windowsill, leaning heavily upon it. Another tear falls, then another. I dash at my cheeks but cannot seem to stop them. My chest burns as though my heart has been set ablaze. I can only wish this agony would end.

Suddenly, a hand slips around my waist, presses flat against my stomach. I catch a breath. A single tug, and I’m drawn back against a warm, broad chest. Breath tickles my ear, and another hand touches my jaw, gently trails down my throat.

“I will come to you.” His mouth rests just against my ear, his voice low and deep: “Should you need me. For any reason. Not for Obligation, only for need.”

I’m shaking, shuddering. But he holds me closer, as though he can hold me together, keep me from bursting into a million pieces.

“Call my name,” he whispers. “I will come to you. From anywhere in all the worlds, I will come. Just call my name.”

“Castien.” My throat vibrates against his fingertips.

“No.” He leans in closer, his nose against my temple. His lips just brush my skin. Not a kiss, a mere stroke of contact. “Not that.”

Then he speaks a single word, softly. Breathes it into my ear.

The next moment he is gone.

“This chamber has been prepared just for you, miss. You’ll be comfortable here, I’m sure.”

I scarcely hear a word the dwarf says. I stand in the doorway, staring into the room. My room.

It is . . . very nice. More than nice. It’s the same basic size and shape as the room I’d had while in Estrilde’s service, but everything is plated in gold. The bed. The wardrobe. The washstand. Gold. Even the curtains are embroidered in gold threads and the mirror frame covered in gold leaf. It looks like it’s meant for a princess, not an Obligate.

I’m reluctant to enter. But what else can I do? I offer the dwarf a timid smile. “Thank you.”

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