The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(107)

“Well done.”

“Save her.” Sebastian couldn’t keep the desperation from his voice. “I held up my end of the bargain. Now you have to hold up yours. The magic binding our contract compels you.”

Teague acknowledged this statement with a flash of his golden eyes. He swirled the contents of the vial, and then said, “An anam Arianna Glavan filleadh ar a corp.”

The mist swirling within the vial spun frantically, and then a single wisp of light rose out of the flask, gathered itself into a ball of brilliant white, and sped toward Ari.

Sebastian watched, heart pounding, fists clenched as the light sank beneath her skin and spread throughout her veins. When she remained still, her eyes closed, Sebastian felt himself sliding. Falling through the flimsy net of hope he’d managed to cling to and plunging into a pit of despair that felt endless.

But then the sallow skin on her face began returning to its golden sheen. A finger twitched, and her eyelashes fluttered. When she took her first shuddering breath, Sebastian had to grab the desk to steady himself.

She was alive.

She was safe.

Whether her plan worked or not, whether Sebastian was freed or spent the rest of his life in servitude to Teague, for this moment, it was enough that she was here.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and found his. He was about to tell her that she was going to be all right, when he heard parchment being viciously crumpled behind him.

He whirled around and found Teague wadding up Sebastian’s contract, his lips curled in malice as he threw the contract toward the wall.

As the parchment that promised safety for the princess in exchange for Sebastian’s services hit the floor, Teague bared his teeth and said, “Thanks so much for the additional souls, my boy. That will give me the ability to manufacture enough apodrasi to quadruple my business. I’m afraid, however, that you and the princess are too much of a liability to keep around. Our contract forbids me to harm the princess as long as you uphold your end of the bargain, but it doesn’t forbid me from killing you.”

Sebastian barely had time to brace himself before Teague charged straight for him.





FIFTY


ARI BECAME AWARE of her body as if she was awakening from a long slumber. First, there was a sense of heaviness wrapping around her, anchoring her to the ground. Then her scalp tingled and her toes itched. She took a deep, shuddering breath and felt her rib cage expand and contract. Her nostrils flared and the scent of fae magic and blood swamped her.

Ari blinked, and the room swam into focus. She was sitting in Teague’s chair in his study, her torso leaning against his desk. Her skin felt cold, her muscles sluggish. Just beyond the desk, the crumpled form of Maarit lay unmoving on the floor.

She stared at Maarit as her memories flooded back.

Stealing the contract. Teague somehow stepping out of Maarit’s body and speaking the last word in Ari’s incantation. Unbearable pain and her desperate attempt to reach Sebastian before everything disappeared into a vast sea of nothing.

Teague had taken Ari’s soul.

And somehow, Sebastian must have found a way to make Teague give it back.

Something crashed into the bookshelves to her left. Slowly, Ari turned her head and saw Sebastian kick Teague off him and then lunge to his feet as the smaller man attacked.

Teague moved with incredible speed, landing punches that were a blur of motion Ari could barely track. Sebastian blocked some of the blows and took the rest, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to the fight the way Ari would have expected him to. Instead, he was steadily working his way toward the desk where Ari sat, flexing her fingers and marveling at the steady cadence of her heartbeat.

Sebastian rocked back on his heels as Teague’s fist connected with his face, and blood began pouring from his nose.

A trickle of anger ran through Ari, igniting warmth in her chest. She pressed the palms of her hands flat against the desk and slowly sat back in the chair.

She had her soul again, but they were still in trouble.

Sebastian was in trouble.

Teague whirled and slammed his fists into Sebastian’s stomach, sending him crashing onto the desk in front of Ari. She tried to reach for him, her movements disjointed and slow, but Teague got there first.

Landing on top of Sebastian, his face a mask of fury, Teague wrapped his hands around Sebastian’s throat and squeezed.

Sebastian punched the fae, landing blow after blow, but Teague simply laughed while his fingers squeezed, and Sebastian’s face began to darken.

Maybe Teague was stronger and faster because he was fae. Maybe Sebastian had already been injured to the point that he could no longer defend himself.

The reason didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sebastian was choking to death at the hands of a monster, and Ari, with her sluggish, uncoordinated movements, was his last defense.

Her legs shook as she tried to stand, and she gripped the edge of the desk as she swayed. Sebastian cut his eyes to hers and then stared at her chest.

Really? He was dying in front of her, and now he decided to stop being a gentleman about her neckline?

Teague laughed—a cold, cruel sound that sent anger flooding through her body, lending her strength.

She met Sebastian’s eyes, trying to send him a silent promise that she would find a weapon and do her best to get Teague off him, but his gaze slid from hers and very deliberately looked at her chest again.