Page 18 of Enthralled

Lir, Mixael, Khas, Andreas.

“Castien,” I whisper.

Their names batter around inside my skull. So many names, so many faces. All so dear to me. And I left them. I left them behind and never looked back. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone! But does that matter? Do all my good intentions count for a damn thing? Whatever I meant, whatever I felt, I abandoned them all. For Oscar.

A sob thickens my throat. Quickly I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. If only I could press out those images of my brother, standing by while I was bound to that stone slab, and Estrilde prepared to perform her evil rite. He would have let her do it. This boy whom I have loved with my whole heart, for whom I have sacrificed everything and everyone. He would have let her cut my unborn child out of my womb.

I gave up everything for him. Only for him to give me up in turn.

A low groan catches my ear. Blinking through the haze of tears, I turn to see a strange creature lying on her back in the middle of the floor. A small, haggard, undernourished thing with no color in her skin other than purple bruises dotting her limbs and neck and shoulders. Lank hair hangs in patches from a pale scalp. Even as I watch, one skeletal hand reaches up, quivering, and grips the hilt of the knife plunged deep into her shoulder.

“Ilusine!” I gasp. Rolling over, I crawl to the fae woman’s side. She breathes fast, her eyes closed and sunken deep into her gaunt face. I reach for the dagger, but when my fingers touch the pommel, her withered lips roll back, revealing a flash of yellowed teeth.

“Don’t touch that!”

I jerk my hand away, half-afraid she’ll bite. “I’ve got to get it out.”

“And watch me bleed to death? I think not.” Her eyes open, bright slits of fury in her skull’s head. “Get something to staunch the blood first.”

Nodding, I rise. My limbs are unsteady, and it takes a few tottering steps before I am sure I won’t topple over. Gripping the table for support, I make my way into the kitchen and search for a rag or towel. One of Mama’s old aprons hangs by the window. Oscar certainly hasn’t used it in years. It smells a little musty but it’ll do.

I stagger back to Ilusine only to find her sitting up and grasping the dagger hilt herself. “You should lie down,” I tell her. “It’ll slow the blood flow.”

“I will not,” she answers coldly. While nothing about her looks like the magnificent fae woman I knew, her voice has not altered. “Do you think a little flesh wound can undo me?”

Before the words have even left her mouth, her whole body folds up on itself. She collapses in a heap. I rush to her side and drop to my knees beside her. Her eyes are open but glazed. I reach for the hilt. Her hand latches hold of my wrist. I startle and stare down into her unseeing gaze. “Please, let me pull it out,” I urge.

“The . . . knife . . . isn’t the problem.” Ilusine grimaces and shuts her eyes tight, her eyelids like wrinkled tissue paper over her colorless eyes. “Breaking the gate. I drew on too much power, and . . .” Her words trail off in a slow exhale. She releases my arm, and her whole body goes slack. Is she dead? Fingers trembling, I feel for a pulse at her throat. It’s there, faint but present. She’s still alive then. For the moment.

I sit back on my heels, dash tears from my cheeks with the back of one hand. “Why did you do it, Ilusine?” I whisper. “Why did you save me?” I’d harbored such bitter jealousy toward this woman. I’d not wanted to admit it, but it’s true. Because Ilusine was everything Castien needed and deserved in a wife: a beautiful, powerful princess with the will to fight and the intelligence to maneuver in the dangerous courts of Eledria. What do I have to offer by comparison? Hatred. Abandonment.

Another stab of searing pain shoots through my heart. I cannot let my mind continue down this path, or my body will simply shut down. That won’t do Ilusine any good. And I must help her. She risked her life to save me; the least I can do is try to save her in return. I reach for the knife again, not at all certain what to do. I wad the apron in one hand, ready to stuff it into the wound, and—

The front door rattles under the force of a pounding knock. “Clara! Clara, are you in there?”

“Oh, thank gods,” I breathe. Dropping my hold on the dagger, I scramble to my feet and fall over myself in my need to reach the door. I yank it open, and a blast of cold air strikes against my bare skin. Only then do I remember that I’ve been stripped down to nothing but my undergarments.

Danny stands before me. He stares as though coming abruptly face-to-face with a ghost. Then his gaze drops slowly, and his eyes widen. “Clara,” he begins. “Clara, what . . . ?”

I grab his arm and drag him inside. He’s still dressed in his wedding clothes. That’s good, I think. It means not much time passed while I was away in Eledria. There must be a gate somewhere still linking this timeline with that in Aurelis. Unless, of course, it was the gate Ilusine just destroyed. But I won’t worry about that right now.

“Thank the gods you’re here, Danny!” I say, slamming the door shut behind him. “You’ve got to help. She’s taken a knife to her shoulder and—”

“Wait, Clara. What happened? Where did you go?” Danny grips my shoulders. His fingers pinch painfully. “I saw that woman.”

“You saw Estrilde.”

He stops. Slowly, I lift my eyes to meet his, watch the shadow fall across his face.

“You remember her,” I say softly. “Don’t you.”

Danny swallows. Then he drops his gaze to his feet and nods.

“How long have you remembered?”

“All along.” He lets go of my right shoulder and rubs a hand down his face, pulling at the skin around his mouth. “I never forgot. But it was such a relief to realize you had. To know everything you’d endured had been wiped from your mind, and we could . . . we might . . .”

“Live a lie?” I whisper.

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