Page 21 of Lady of Ashes

Her attention was drawn back to Mikale as he poured a small glass of water and held it out to her. She reached for it tentatively, glaring at him suspiciously.

“It is just water, my pet. As the Assassin Lord has told you, we do not want your magic suppressed. We never did.”

She kept her eyes locked on his as she greedily drank the water down, already aching for more. The water pitcher was still practically full, and Mikale smiled mockingly, noticing when she glanced at it. “You know what you need to do to get more.”

She scowled, handing the cup back to him in clear refusal, her hand shaking from the cold. There was a small ?re burning in the hearth, but it wasn’t nearly large enough to heat the space.

Mikale sighed in disappointment. “You will not win, my pet. He always wins.”

“I will die before he wins,” she spat back.

“No, you will not. Because he wants you alive,” Mikale said simply, leading her to the bed.

He pulled the covers back and motioned for her to get in. She almost groaned at the soft mattress beneath her ass. She pulled her legs up and laid back, savoring the feel of the pillow beneath her head. After sitting on a stone ?oor for who knew how many days, this was pure bliss.

Until Mikale climbed over top of her to lie beside her, that damn chain still ?rmly in his grasp.

“No,” she barked in horror. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“You do not get a choice in the matter,” Mikale replied, pulling the covers up.

She wanted to argue, but the warmth of the blankets quelled her tongue. And when Mikale wrapped an arm around her and tugged her into the cradle of his hips to tuck her in close, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from his warmth either.

She knew this for what it was. The Assassin Lord excelled at making you so miserable that you started giving in on little things. You began making small concessions and tiny exceptions so that when the big request came, you’d already given up so many things that the last leap didn’t seem so big any more. He was a master at manipulation.

But he had also trained her in that manipulation, so now it would come down to a battle of wills. And as her limbs soaked in the warmth surrounding her, she vowed she would win and kill him before the end. For now, though, she closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness where she could see the stars.

CHAPTER 8

SORIN

Sorin found himself surrounded by trees in a forest as Luan pulled them all through a rip in the world. The moon ?ltered through the leaves, glaring off the light layer of snow and illuminating some of their surroundings. He turned in a slow circle, trying to ?gure out where exactly they were.

“Eliza,” he called, summoning his general to his side. “Do you recognize where we are?”

She came stumbling over to him, and he gripped her arm to keep her standing.

Fuck.

He’d forgotten they would all be reeling from the loss of their magic here.

He glanced around at the others. Cyrus was doubled over and appeared to be doing his best not to vomit. Rayner was leaning against a tree. He would still be able to move among the smoke and ashes here, but he wouldn’t be able to wield them, and he would weaken faster. He was pale, and his breathing was uneven. Luan had his arm looped around Arianna’s waist, supporting all the Lady’s weight as her head fell forward against his shoulder, and she tugged her cloak tightly around herself. The Earth Prince met his gaze, his lips forming a grim line.

“You are all right?” Sorin asked him.

He nodded once. “We need to get everyone behind the wards. Perhaps the mortals know where we are.”

“Sloan and I will scout ahead and ?gure out how far from the tunnel system we are. That will give you all time to … adjust,” Finn said.

Sorin nodded in agreement as he led Eliza over to another tree, helping her lower to the ground atop her pack to keep the snow from soaking into her cloak. “Even knowing this was coming, I wasn’t prepared,” she muttered.

Sorin could say nothing in response. He remembered when he’d ?rst come to the mortal lands nearly four years ago. He had spent the ?rst ?ve days violently sick in a cave in Toreall, adjusting to not having his magic at his ?ngertips. It was like having a piece of your soul inaccessible to you. Being able to wield their magic was as essential as eating and breathing for Fae. Not siphoning it off throughout the day in the Courts would drive the power to seek a different outlet, making a Fae volatile, much like Scarlett’s had done when she was on her tonic. Not having access to one’s magic at all was a different kind of torture in and of itself.

“Once we ?nd Cassius, he can brew a potion for you all to have access to your magic if you want it,” Sorin said into the night.

“Fuck that,” Cyrus hissed. “You said the High Witch brewed some for you to bring with.”

“She did,” Sorin con?rmed. “But they are for emergencies.”

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