Chapter 52: Tormented

“Hmm.” She muttered. Face hardening and he sensed what was coming. “And why do you not leave these woods?”

He felt the light die from his eyes as the old argument rose. “Do you truly wish to do this today.”

“I wish you to tell me the truth every day.”

“I do.”

“The pieces you like.” She countered. Sitting up a bit more. “Perhaps if you were more inclined to leave here, you’d be more inclined to be where I am.”

I’m almost always where you are. You just don’t know I’m your shadow.

She’s wondering about me possessing a secret wife again. What binds me here. Why we can never be together. His chest tightened at the prospect of arguing with her just now.

I’m no good for you.

At length she fell asleep there on that log. Looking like a sleeping fey girl.

Alazareth slid to his feet. Headed for the castle. Armor materializing over him. Rolling up the back of his legs and over his shoulders, before the helmet sealed over his face with a clatter. A sweep of his hand had a sword forming there. As hard as his fury. I’ll kill her. Sever her head from her shoulders.

The Dark Dread will never touch Riaura again. His step was purposeful and carried him quickly up the levels of stairs to the queen’s chamber. When he ripped open the door, he found the dark-haired queen sitting calmly next to the fire.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” She murmured breathily.

“I’m going to kill you.” He growled.

As he approached, she lifted her chin and the face shield on his helmet raised but he was too angry to pay any mind.

“Ah, so you are the one who came into my chamber. The wolf that threatened me.” Her brows drew together. “Yet you look different then you did when we sipped wine together. Tell me, how many times have you tried to kill me? Yet you think this endeavor inclined to be any more successful?”

“What insanity do you speak of Dread?” He demanded. Gripping the sword so tightly the wood covering the hilt snapped and fell apart. Leaving him holding only the sliver of steel forming the handle.

It will be enough. He worked it in his hand.

“When you slipped in here before and I caught you, you swore you weren’t poisoning me and drank with me. But I traded you glasses.” She eased close and when he lifted the sword she pressed her hand to the blade, maintaining the lock her black eyes had on him. He noticed the orange seam but not before it was too late. She was close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder.

He felt the sway take over. Radix’s magic. Melting him. Shredding his will and freezing him where he was. His legs became soft as pudding. And his feet locked where they were.

What is this? What’s she doing to me?

“Clever boy. You must have poisoned us both. I would’ve loved to partake of you that night. But alas, you’d have no taste of me then. Perhaps now…”

Sebastian. He swallowed. Sebastian poisoned himself? He shook his head to dismiss the thought. Trying hard to focus his muddled mind. Vision becoming blurred. For a moment Marod’s hair looked long and silky blonde. Lips lush and colored pink rose. Eyes green and bright.

Riaura…No! His mind corrected him. Blinking hard he willed the images to clear. Seeing Marod with her mass of tangling brown hair. Now woven with white in the front. Her dark eyes coated in the white film that’d left her partially blonde since the poisoning.

She has his magic. She’s going to try and kill me.

“No.” She whispered. “I won’t kill you. Yet…” She walked around him. Tracing a pointed fingernail over his armor as she went. Creating a rasping scrape which split the metal and sent it falling to the floor. Dissolving as it touched. “He wants you to…Suffer. And I want her to suffer.”

Why must you make Riaura suffer?

“Why do you hate her so?”

“Because I am queen here.” She enunciated. “The little wretch thinks to replace me, but ’tis I, that shall live forever. Queen of Nightway for an eternity.” She hummed in a sing song voice before her tone turned razor sharp. “I’ll kill her myself before I let her unseat me as queen.”

She intends to kill her?

She moaned and threw her head back. Exposing a length of neck that looked familiar to him. Blonde tresses waving across it.

His lips ached to touch there. Leave a trail of fiery kisses. To hear his lover’s sweet voice whispering his name. He grunted and fell to his knees, fighting the strange beguiling. Shaking his head like a dazed animal. A glance down his body revealed he was now only in his white tunic and breeches. Feeling very much like he’d been drugged.

“What a fine specimen you are.” She purred. Still circling him.

Like a vulture eying her meal. Just be done with it! Trying to lift his arms or attack proved as futile as he feared.

“Just kill me, Woman. If that is your intent.”

She clucked her tongue. “Tsk. Tsk. Not until I’ve had my fun.”

What fun?

Is it to be torture then?

She stood before him. A sweep of her fingertips made her dress disappear. Materializing next to her in a heap. Exposing a body that resembled a melted candle. Overly large in areas where she should not be. And wide limp breasts which swung like pendulums dominating her torso. Flesh hung limply from her arms and thighs as though she had once been a much larger woman.

He cringed. Desperately willing himself to look away but he was locked in place. Trying to close his eyes revealed his eyelids refusal to obey.

Leaning forward she hooked one fingernail in his shirt, deep enough to catch his flesh and drug it down. Splitting his tunic and leaving a line of blood where she had cut him as sharply as a razor.

Reaching beneath the fabric over his shoulder she pushed it aside and let the tattered shreds fall to the floor.

“No.” He murmured. Unable to imagine anything more foul than what it appeared she intended.

Why?