Page 67 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
He didn’t have to enjoy the things he did to her, only ensure they kept her alive. Leaving her chained and sobbing on the floor had caused a piercing agony inside he couldn’t name, couldn’t escape. But they’d been listening. The demons, right on the other side of the door. As if they believed Zarathos wouldn’t follow through. Not to mention what had happened at the ceremony. The damn mark on his arm had been cold and aching from the moment they’d stepped into the arena, telling him what he already knew. That his Bloodbound was in life-threatening danger.
He shook his head. Disaster.
When Aryana returned to the room, she wore the dress but offered her bare back to him, her hair swept to the side. Seeing her like that, the gown catching the curves of her body, did odd things to him.
“Will you button?” she asked.
He fingered the clear elixir in his pocket. He didn’t want to take another dose yet so soon, but he would if he had to.
Stepping up to her, he worked on the tiny buttons, trying to ignore how close her soft inviting skin was to his hands, how her scent drifted up to him, and how he wanted to simply reach out and touch her.
“I wish I had a weapon,” she said.
He cleared his throat, refocusing on her words. “Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”
Her shoulders fell. “Probably.”
After he finished, he took her by the arm, pulling the shadows around them. When they reappeared, they were a short distance outside the vampire castle. The building towered over them, a monolith of ancient stone.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked her.
She looked away, most likely cursing all that he had seen about her in the crystal ball. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? Because if we get caught in that room—”
“I’m not weak,” she snarled.
The way she’d taken out her lover who’d attacked her when she had little-to-no-training attested to the fact that she wasn’t weak. Not to mention how she’d resisted her uncle when she became wise to his manipulation—how she’d tried to escape it as opposed to caving to it.
If he was being honest with himself, she was probably the strongest person he knew.
But he’d rather die than tell her that.
“Fine.” He removed his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Why are you giving me this?”
He reached into the pocket and pulled out the same crystal ball they’d used two nights ago. “I cannot go in with you, but there is a spell that will allow me to place my mind and body into this. Until you set me free.”
Surprise entered her expression, then she grew calculating. “I have to release you?”
His stomach twisted. And he gripped her arms, his nails pressing into his cloak. “You will free me when I say, or you will be dead. We both will be dead.”
“My, but you don’t enjoy depending on someone, do you? What? Afraid I might betray you?”
He let loose a snarl and released her. “If you do, it’ll be your death.”
“What about getting to the alcove?”
“As long as you carry me in, it should get me through the door to your father’s room and even into the alcove, since technically it is not a person entering, but an object.”
“And the spells protecting the scepter?”
He grabbed a new vial off the vanity and smiled. “This is Neutrolisis, a neutralizing agent. It removes any magic or power binding any object.”
“It looks like the potion you normally take.”
Yes, it did resemble his Elixir of Purification, but there were minor differences.
