Page 56 of Heart of Night
I go with trust. Not because my most recent experiences have led me to believe this world is a trustworthy place where people mean no harm, but because how much worse can it get? Usually, my evening meals knock me out, so if I do ingest the drug, it will be just another night out cold and a morning of hurling up my guts.
But if the message is real and I get to eat actual food that will strengthen me instead of weakening me, I might have a chance of recovering some of my powers. And if I manage to do so over a few days, maybe I’ll get strong enough to stand a chance against the guards outside my door.
Not against Herinor, though. Even if his magic wasn’t in the game, he’d easily outmatch me with his physical strength and his skill with a weapon.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. He isn’t supposed to aid me. His bargain won’t allow it. But what if he turns his eye when I make my escape? Would that kill him, too?
Before I can come to a conclusion, a knock sounds on the door, making me jump in my chair as I crumple the note between my fingers and shove it into the décolletage of my nightdress before ripping a large piece of bread off, hiding it in the vase at the center of the table, and rearranging the white and pink flowers so there are no traces left.
“Come in.” Bread still in hand, I turn to the door without standing from my seat and pretend to chew. One never knows who’s coming to check on me.
A moment later, my whole body chills as Ephegos steps into the room, led by General Katrijanov, who hasn’t bothered to wipe the blood from his face where a thin streak graces his cheekbone. He flashes me a cold smile that I don’t return. I do, however, notice that his gaze wanders to my hands—either to determine whether I armed myself with the dull knife they provided with my meal or because he is interested in whether I’ve started eating.
His lips twitch before he packs away that smile and turns to Ephegos, who is studying me, head cocked as if expecting me to stand and curtsey or simply fall to my knees in front of him.
I don’t bother to stand at all. Before their magic and strength, it doesn’t matter if I even attempt to defend myself. I’ll lose. I’ll always lose—unless I get my powers back, which, judging by the quick glance Ephegos sends toward the tray on the table before spotting the bread in my hand, I’m on the best way to achieving.
Whoever wrote that note might truly want me to live.
“To what do I owe the pleasure,” I ask after laying the bread back in its place and pretending to swallow the bite I never took.
Ephegos’s features turn into that fake friendliness I remember from his time at Myron’s court. Traitor. Monster.
Katrijanov steps forward first, lowering his head so he looks straight into my eyes. I refuse to shrink away, steeling my spine even when I’ve used up most of my strength for the day and my emotions are all over the place, swirling like a hurricane of terror and hope fueled by that sizzling connection originating in my shoulder and ending in the dungeons where Myron is being held captive.
The blood on Katrijanov’s cheek is fresh, but the missing gash in his skin informs me it isn’t his.
“Got into a fight, General?” I ask him with less fire than I feel while he straightens and stalks around the room as if in a military inspection.
Ephegos laughs a melodious laugh I want to shove back down his throat. “The brave general faced a particular brand of monster just a minute ago. Fortunately, Crows with an establishing mating bond are easy to control… Something I’d like to be able to say about humans as well. But you, dear Ayna… You are a piece of work. You have always been, from the day you set foot in Myron’s court.”
“At least you still acknowledge it’s his court.” I try not to spit at him and quietly thank whoever sent the note that my head isn’t spinning yet the way it likes to do during dinners when the drug’s effect is kicking in.
“His court.” Ephegos muses at the ornate ceiling as if the little curves and swirls will respond. “It was. Now it’s mine.” His grin widens as he steps up to the table, sitting down across from me. Katrijanov stops his tour by the window, eyeing me like an eagle does his prey, and a shiver spreads along my body. A sort of expectation is surfacing in his eyes, and I know he’s waiting for something to happen.
His chin dips as if in agreement.
Wait… “What do you mean, Crows with an establishing mating bond?”
Guardians, he knows. He knows about the connection. He’s probably seen Myron’s tattoo when he’s tortured him in the dungeon.
Anger so profound it makes bile rise in my throat and wash through me. I flap my hand across my mouth so I don’t throw up all over my dinner. I still need to eat the meat and the vegetables even if I feel like my appetite will never return. I need my strength to free Myron.
To free the male Vala bonded me with.
I can’t yet handle the thought of him being my mate, but what happened during the banquet is proof that they are all onto something.
Ephegos’s chuckle is soft, his gaze pitiful as if I’m a little puppy he intends to save from the streets. How I hate him. More even than when I found out he betrayed all of us.
“Mating bonds are a beautiful invention of the gods to keep immortal creatures loyal.” He cocks his head so birdlike I can see his Crow features even when he doesn’t shift. “Useful, don’t you think? Especially when vengeance comes into play.”
The dark glint in his eyes promises nothing good.
Mating bonds. Clio was right. Deep in my core, I know that she was, that they all are, but it hurts too much to allow myself to hope this will lead to anything other than pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was alive?” I bite out the words, keeping a leash on my temper so I don’t do something stupid like outright attack him with my bare hands.
“And take away the pain that comes with losing a loved one? I don’t think so.” He leans over, gesturing at the plate. “Eat.”