Page 85 of The Arrow and the Alder

That should have been her cue to leave. To let it lie. She could thank him in the morning. Instead Seph pressed her ear to the door. There was no movement beyond, no sound whatsoever. It was entirely possible that he was asleep, and yet…

Something was wrong. She felt it as surely as she felt that impossible tie between them. Perhaps the burn upon his palm was even worse than she’d thought. She put her hand on the door and pushed.

Locked.

A minor inconvenience, really, which left her with the question: how badly did she want to have this conversation right now? Was it worth his potential fury at her unexpected intrusion?

Seph decided it was. Truth was always worth fighting for.

She slid the metal lock picks from between her breasts and had the door open in less than a minute.

The room was dark and not much larger than hers. A lantern glowed dimly upon a nightstand beside a bed that didn’t look large enough for Alder. But there was no prince in the bed to verify that. In fact, the bed was still made, and Alder’s bow lay upon it.

Seph frowned, slipped inside, and closed the door. “Prince Alder?” she asked softly.

Her sensation of him drew her attention to a far corner, where lantern light faintly dusted the space. There, she saw the silhouette of a large figure hunched upon the floor.

Alder.

Something was definitely wrong. “Alder, it’s me…Josephine. Are you all right?”

In answer, he let out a low and agonized groan.

What in Ava’s name…?

Seph crossed the room, grabbed the lantern, and approached Alder, but the moment its glow washed over him, she stopped in her tracks.

He sat on the floor with his arms curled around his knees, and he was naked. This alone should have startled Seph, but any sense of propriety vanished when she noticed his back. The thick and tangled network of rope-like scars and the shapes sliding beneath his bare skin, like hands and fingers pushing out against his flesh as if something within were trying to break free.

Seph’s blood turned to ice, and she stood paralyzed in horror while Alder groaned and trembled.

Things are not always what they seem, my Josephine.

Abecka had known something was amiss, but had she knownthis? And then so many other things made sense. Why he looked so haggard and exhausted each morning, and why he’d tried so hard to be rid of her at the start. He hadn’t wanted her to see this. He hadn’t wantedanyoneto see this.

But what wasthis?

Seph wanted to run—to fetch Abecka or someone who might know what to do—and she probably should have, but for some reason, she could not bring her feet to move. It seemed cruel to leave him like this, all alone and subject to the torment currently afflicting him. To betray a secret he’d clearly fought so hard to protect. So, against her better judgment, Seph set down the lantern and crept closer until she was standing beside him, watching him clench and gasp and moan upon the floor as he struggled against whatever warred within. Sweat glistened upon his back, and his muscles flexed and pulled in restraint against the thing writhing and clawing inside.

“Alder, can you hear me?” she asked, her heart pounding.

He didn’t react—it was as if he couldn’t hear her through his fight—and she reached out and lightly rested her palm upon his shoulder.

She might have touched him with a branding iron.

Rys’s ring burned hot, a warning as Alder bolted to a stand, whirling toward her. His teeth bared in a hiss, his eyes glowed bloodred, and Seph was momentarily struck by the mass of pure muscle standing before her. She’d known he was strong—his clothes had never been able to hide that, no matter their bulk—butsaints. She’d never seen such power in the form of a body, all that impressive might shaped into corded muscle. Despite her dire circumstances, her mouth went dry, her pulse roared, and in that momentary distraction, all that beautiful muscle lunged right for her.

Seph was thrown back, landing on the floor with a wince and a gasp, and then Alder’s enormous body was over hers, pinning her down. His powerful legs trapped hers, and his hands were at her throat, squeezing.

“Ald—” Seph tried to get the word out, but his hands were a vise, slowly crushing her windpipe as his red eyes burned into hers. Seph squirmed and bucked and tried to throw him off, but he was a slab of granite, seething and snarling like some feral beast. Veins popped out of his skin, and something dragged across his chest from the inside.

Seph flailed, pleading with her eyes, but to no avail. Alder could not hear her; he’d been possessed by a monster.

Some enchantments are woven to deceive. They could be permitting you to touch the coat only so that this power can claim you. Possess you.

He’d said it, Seph realized now, because he knew from experience.

And Seph needed to do something before he strangled the last breath from her lungs.

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