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for his part—however involuntary—in what had happened to Ivy was

palpable, and Kai didn’t have the patience or the sanity to reassure him.

In truth, if it hadn’t been for Sion, they likely wouldn’t have found

Ivy in time to save her. Kai shoved the thought down into the deepest,

darkest corner of his mind. If he allowed himself to go down that path,

to think of what could have happened, he’d shatter.

The morning of Ivy’s abduction, Wyn had stolen Sion’s transponder

and sealed him inside his room with magic. An effective plan, and one

that would have worked had Sion not been in possession of a comm

glass. Flipping the long, standing mirror in his quarters to its

communication mode, the Helios had sent a warning to Tira, who had in

turn barged into Kai’s room and literally kicked him out of bed.

By the time Tira had been alerted to the situation, Ivy had already

disappeared from the citadel, sending Kai into a spectacular rage. Every

guard in the city had been enlisted in the search, but with the torrential

rains reducing visibility, it hadn’t been an easy task.

Employing Sion’s aid, Kai had teleported them into the Valley. He’d

been prepared to burn the entire village to the ground if the Court didn’t

tell him where to find his mate, but the moment they’d landed on the

cobblestone road, Sion had heard Ivy’s screams.

Kai didn’t remember much after that. Rage had consumed him,

reducing him to his most primal state, and he’d have ripped Wyn’s still

beating heart from his chest if Ivy hadn’t stopped him.

Logically, he knew they needed to question the sentry, but allowing

him to live after what he’d done to Ivy had been nearly impossible.

Waiting was excruciating. Too thin and too pale, Ivy looked so

fragile, so breakable, lying in the center of the big bed. For two days, she

slept on her stomach and didn’t move, not even to stretch or roll. Kai had

spent endless hours watching the steady rise and fall of her back, just to

comfort himself that she was still alive, still breathing.

On the second night, Hamlet had escaped his hold and leapt onto the

bed, ducking under the covers before Kai could catch him and snuggled

against Ivy’s neck. He’d intended to grab the beast and toss him out into

the hallway, but when his mate sighed in her sleep and smiled, he’d

decided the piglet could stay.

By the next morning, he’d almost convinced himself that she’d never

awake when she called his name in a reedy voice.

“I’m here, dove.” Kneeling on the floor beside the bed, he took her

thin hand, wrapping it in both of his own. “I’m right here.”

“Water,” she mumbled, blinking lazily to dispel the lingering sleep.

Standing, he eased onto the bed, careful not to hurt her, and helped

Ivy into a sitting position so that her shoulder rested against his chest.

“Just sips,” he encouraged, guiding the goblet of water from the

nightstand into her hands. “Easy, not too much, dove.”

As she drank, he stroked her hair, her arms, and kissed her brow,

touching any part of her he could reach. For the first time since the

moment he’d found out she was missing, he felt like he could breathe

again. The tightness in his chest loosened, and the heaviness of despair

that had coiled around him vanished.

“How do you feel? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?” He took

the goblet she handed him and placed it back on the bedside table. “Tell

me what to do,” he pleaded.

Her quiet laughter warmed him like nothing else could, dispelling

the darkness that had followed him for days. “Actually, I feel pretty

good. A little sore, but nothing like what I expected.” Tilting her head

back, she arched her neck to rub their lips together. “To be honest, I’m

starving. I want a bath, food, and information—not necessarily in that

order.”

Ancestors above, he loved her so much, and it physically pained him

to think that he’d failed her, that he hadn’t been there to protect her when

she’d needed him. It wouldn’t happen again, not ever.

“I’ll start the bathwater.” Sliding out from under her, he threw his

legs over the side of the bed and pushed to his feet. “Don’t move. I’ll be

right back.”

It killed him to leave her alone, even for a second, but he knew she

wouldn’t tolerate his hovering. Ivy never did anything the easy way, but

her strength and determination were just two things on the very long list

of traits he adored about her. Even as she spoke, he could see the

resolution returning to her green eyes. She wanted answers, and she’d

do whatever it took to find them.

While he waited for the basin to fill with warm water, he used his

transponder to call down to the kitchens, requesting they send enough

food to his quarters to feed a small army. They’d all been eager to

comply, or perhaps they just worried for his mental stability. It had been

days since he’d showered or shaved, washed his hair, or changed

clothes. Catching his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he had to admit

he looked more than a little unhinged.

That didn’t stop Ivy from pouncing the second he reentered the

bedroom.

“Tell me what happened.” Her gazed softened, and her lips twitched

at the corners. “Please,” she added to temper the demand. “Where is

Wyn? Has he said anything? Do we know who’s pulling the strings?”

“Ivy, my love, there will be time to discuss all of this when you’re

well. Right now, you need rest and calm.”

“No,” she responded, her voice dangerously cool. “I need to know

why Wyn tried to kill me, and I need to know who sent him to do it.”

“You
need
to stop being so stubborn and give yourself time to

recover.”

“I’m fine.”

“You almost died!” he exploded, the fear and uncertainty from the

past few days finally catching up to him. “Do you understand that?”

“I know, but I didn’t.” She stretched her arm out to the side, her hand

reaching for him. “I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m okay, really.”

Kai went to her because he couldn’t stop himself, but annoyance with

her still bubbled beneath the surface. He’d do anything for her, slay

every demon, but none of it mattered if she refused to take care of herself.

Holding her offered hand, he brought it to his mouth, rubbing his lips

over the knuckles.

“It can wait one more day, Ivy. Please.”

For a moment, he thought she’d argue. In fact, he’d expected it, but

his mate surprised him when she smiled gently and nodded up at him.

“Okay, one more day.”

She’d once called herself a warrior, but Kai knew it was more than

that. Ivy Dalton was a commander, not by title alone, but by her very

nature. Words like honor, courage, loyalty, and duty meant something

to her, and she cared deeply, more profoundly than she’d ever let anyone

know.

Ivy would always be the first one into battle, a leader by example,

and she’d do absolutely anything to protect the people she loved—even

die for them.

Kai just wasn’t willing to let her.

* * * *

of death.”

He’d been saying the same thing for three days, but little else. No

matter what questions they asked him, he remained unwavering in his

conviction that Ivy and her friends would bring about the destruction of

Xenthian. When asked why, however, he became irrationally angry,

unable to provide an answer, not one that made sense anyway.

By the fourth morning of questioning, Kai had to agree with his mate.

Whatever reasons Wyn had for attacking her, they very possibly weren’t

his own. That didn’t stop Kai from wanting to kill him every time he

came within ten feet of the sentry, but it did raise many questions he

couldn’t answer.

“Who sent you to kill Commander Ivy Dalton?” Tira asked, her tone

impressively calm.

“She is a plague, a—”

“Yes,” the captain interrupted, “you’ve said that. Who sent you? Who

told you to remove her?”

“Well, that’s a pleasant way to ask why he tried to gut me like a pig,”

Ivy muttered, watching the interrogation on the vidscreen from the

safety of the library. “I want to talk to him.”

Kai had managed to keep her in bed for nearly an entire day.

Considering her penchant for stubbornness, he considered it a highly

successful endeavor. She did seem to be feeling better, and some color

had returned to her cheeks. More importantly, she’d started eating again.

Even as they spoke, she nibbled on cheese and fruit between questions.

So, after much debate, Kai had finally consented to let her watch the

interrogation. Not on his life would he allow her anywhere near Wyn

Nightstar, though.

“No.”

“I don’t have to be in the room,” she reasoned. “I could talk to him

through the vidscreen.”

“Ivy, do you take pleasure in causing me anxiety and suffering?”

The female rolled her eyes and popped another cube of cheese into

her mouth. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

Kai clenched his fist on the top of his desk and grinded his teeth

together. “That’s what you said last time, and look how that ended.”

“Not my fault,” she countered. “If he hadn’t cheated, I’d have totally

kicked his sorry ass.”

“I’m sure you would have, dove.” He could humor her now that she

was safe and protected, but magic wasn’t cheating. The lack of it was just

a disadvantage, one she couldn’t afford.

A quiet breath huffed from her lips. “Anyway, listen. When we were

in the clearing on the hill, Wyn said something strange. Well, he said a

lot of fruit loop stuff, but this was different.”

Damn, he’d missed her. The sound of her voice, the smell of her hair,

the smile that could light even the deepest of wells—he’d missed it all.

“What did he say?”

“Well, in between all the threats and posturing, he said something

like, ‘Who knows if the Vasili will survive the heartbreak?’ It just doesn’t

fit.”

The answer to the question was a resounding “no,” he wouldn’t have

survived it. “If the elders want to remove me from power, it makes

perfect sense.”

Ivy shook her head, wincing as she squirmed around to sit up

straighter in her chair. “I agree, and that’s the point I’m trying to make.

He’s been going on about what a toxic plague I am, but he’s never once

said a word about you. I don’t think he meant to say that in the clearing.

I don’t think they were actually his words, if that makes any sense.”

Unfortunately, it made a great deal of sense, but it also brought up

many, more pressing concerns. “All Xenons can wield magic, but some

are born with special gifts, much like your abilities. What you’re

speaking of sounds very much like influential magic, but much more

powerful than I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay, so that means what? People with this magic can influence

others, like mind control?”

“Yes and no. In its purest form, the ability can influence moods. For

example, a guard with the gift of influence might use his abilities to calm

an angry prisoner, but the magic doesn’t control one’s thoughts or

actions.”

“Okay, and in its impure form? What happens then?”

“It’s…suggestive,” he answered slowly. “An idea is implanted into

the victim’s mind. If it’s repeated often enough, the person comes to

believe these suggestions or opinions are their own.” If true, it made their

situation far more serious than he’d originally thought. “It’s forbidden.”

“Yeah, well, so is murder.”

“You don’t understand. It’s a dark magic, Ivy, the blackest. For the

influence to be powerful enough to actually control someone else, it

requires a sacrifice.”

Her eyebrows drew together, and she leaned toward him, resting her

elbows on the cushioned arm of the chair. “What kind of sacrifice?”

“Blood.” Not just a prick of the finger or a shallow cut across the

palm, either. The ritual demanded the sacrifice of a life, usually someone

important to the caster. “It requires death.”

“Are the effects permanent?”

“Death is rather permanent, yes.”

Ivy snorted and shook her head. “I meant the influence.”

“If the victim doesn’t have contact with the caster, the magic will

fade, but it takes time, sometimes years, for the person to return to

normal.”

“We have to get a name.” Ivy struggled out of the deep, soft cushions

and stood with her hands rested on her hips. “Do any of the elders have

this influential magic?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but it’s not that simple anymore, dove.”

A spell like what she suggested took time and careful planning. Her

arrival hadn’t been the catalyst. It had simply been a beneficial

distraction, a means of misdirection. Someone had been plotting against

him for some time, right under his nose.

“How is it not simple? We figure out which elder has this suggestive