Page 35 of House of Embers
“I am the Father,” he roared. His magic radiated out of him,pinning her in place. She dropped to one knee as her mind trembled under his power. Blood ran from her nose, down her lips, and over her chin. “You will obey me.”
Finally, when it stopped, tears were in her lashes and there was desperation on her too-beautiful face, satisfaction on the faces of those assembled. Applause rang out at his outburst, as if it were a show and not her life.
The collar opened with a soft click as the Father stepped up to where she knelt before him.
“This is for your own good,” he said.
“Please,” she whispered as he circled her throat. “Mother wouldn’t have wanted this.”
“Don’t,” he snarled, “mention her in my presence.”
The room shuddered as his outrage turned to a physical press against their senses. Isa had to close her eyes to suffer through the pain.
The lock clicked into place.
“Now you are mine,” he told her with a wicked smile. “Stand.”
And she could do nothing else.
Chapter Thirteen
The Capital
Clover
“It won’t be forever,” Clover assured Darby.
She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. The wind whipped her black hair across her face, and she turned away from Clover. “We don’t know how long you’ll be gone. YouandHadrian. Gone without me. I won’t even know if you’re okay.”
“Kerrigan will be able to check in,” Hadrian reminded her. “We’ll be all right. We can take care of ourselves.”
“My little street rat,” Clover crooned with a wink.
Darby burst into tears at the affectionate name. “I can’t.”
Clover pulled her into her arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “We’ll miss you, but we’re coming back. Okay? I love you.”
Darby jerked back. Her tear-limned eyes were wide with shock and wonder. “You…love me?”
“I do. I love you.” Clover’s eyes lifted to Hadrian. “I love you too.”
He flushed all over at the words. “I love you.”
Darby hiccuped. “I love you.”
Clover claimed her mouth one more time. Savored the sweet tasteof her. Then she pulled away with as much force as she could muster, or else she’d stay forever.
“You ready to fly?” Clover asked, slinging her bag across her back as she approached Gerrond.
The Sayair male was shorter than Clover by a few inches. His clothes were brightly colored—red pants, a pink tunic, and his striking emerald cloak—and his long, honey-colored hair had been tied up into a messy bun at the top of his head. The hair at his nape had been shaved off entirely.
“Have you ever flown before?” he asked carefully.
“Once,” she admitted. “I didn’t throw up.”
“I was part of the House of Dragons,” Hadrian offered.
Gerrond grinned. “Ah, then you are most familiar with dragons. Excellent. It’s a several-hour flight to the city, so we should get going.” He gestured to his dragon with dirty yellow scales. “This is Henrley. He isn’t very talkative, so don’t expect him to say much unless we encounter danger.”
