The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(59)

Flexing his hands, he gently pulled back on the reins, relieved when the horse instantly slowed to a walk. Another ten minutes of walking through a sparse grove of date trees, with the road at the edge of his vision, and they’d reached Kosim Thalas. He cut over to the road and slipped between two carriages. Torches lit the city, throwing their golden glow across the cobblestones in wide circles. He urged the horse toward the first intersection, and then pulled his mount to the side to wait in the shadow of a shop with bolts of cloth, beaded belts, and feathered headbands on display.

The carriages from the palace rolled past with agonizing slowness. Left with nothing to do but wait for Teague, the full weight of the princess’s situation hit Sebastian, and a stomach-churning punch of panic started as a ball of ice in his chest and then spread to every part of him until he was trembling from head to toe.

She was under contract to the most ruthless man in Súndraille.

She was one tiny word away from having her soul ripped from her body. From being gone.

And there was nothing Sebastian could do to stop it.

His breath came in sharp gasps, and he leaned his face against his horse’s warm neck while he fought for control.

He’d felt fear like this before. When he heard the sound of a whip cracking through the air. When Parrish had died, and he was the only one left to absorb his mother’s bitterness and his father’s rage. When he’d first decided to flee east Kosim Thalas because starving to death in the merchant district seemed like a better fate than the life laid out before him.

But that fear had been for himself. For the pain he knew was coming, or the future he was terrified to pursue.

This was so much worse.

This was his closest friend—his only friend.

This was Ari, a name he could only bring himself to call her in the safety of his thoughts.

He had no way to rescue her from the danger she was in. No way to take the risk on his own shoulders instead. He didn’t kid himself. The princess, with her skills, her connections, and her confidence, was worth five of Sebastian to a businessman like Teague. There would be no more trades. No more negotiations.

He closed his eyes and focused on taking slow, deep breaths. On counting to one hundred and then counting again while he waited for his heart rate to slow. For his muscles to stop shaking.

He couldn’t rescue her, but the princess was remarkably capable of rescuing herself. He had no doubt she could prove it if put to the test.

But she wasn’t going into Teague’s home to find a way to rescue herself. He knew his princess. She was going to search for the key to destroying Teague.

And what would happen to her if she got caught?

Sebastian swallowed hard and straightened in the saddle. He might not be able to rescue her, but he could help her with her search. He could be another set of eyes and ears. He could protect her from getting caught.

All he needed was a way to earn Teague’s trust and gain entrance to his home.

Teague trusted only those who proved themselves absolutely loyal to him. Who didn’t hesitate to do every unspeakable thing he required.

Sebastian’s skin crawled at the plan that was taking shape inside his head. It would mean becoming everything he hated. It would mean diving headfirst into the squalid underbelly of east Kosim Thalas.

It would mean following in his father’s footsteps.

The band of tension around his chest felt like it was crushing him and his scars burned, but he ignored them as Teague’s carriage entered the street and moved toward the intersection.

He shoved the rest of his fear into the dark, shadowy corner of his mind where the memories of his childhood lived. He’d put his plan into motion. He was doing this for the princess. It didn’t matter what it cost him as long as she was safe.

Holding on to that thin comfort, he urged his horse onto the road several carriages behind Teague’s and began to follow it.





TWENTY-FIVE


ARI WOKE, BRUISED and sore, to find the sun streaming through the windows of her room on the second floor of Alistair Teague’s villa. She hadn’t been able to see much of the property when she’d arrived the night before, but even with the sparse torchlight provided at the gates and the porch, she’d been able to tell that the place was nothing like the rest of the homes in Súndraille. Instead of gently domed rooftops and gracious arched windows, Teague’s house squatted in the center of a wide, tree-filled lawn. The roof was flat, the walls were dark, and the windows resembled narrow cat’s eyes glaring suspiciously at the world. She’d gone to sleep feeling trapped and terrified.

This morning, the shutters on her narrow window were thrown wide, and a crisp sea breeze tangled gently with the sheer drapes. She closed her eyes as the scent of brine and sun-warmed grass drifted in and imagined she was standing on the south cliff with Sebastian, reveling in the power and mystery of the sea.

Tears burned her eyelids, and she blinked rapidly. She wasn’t on the south cliff. She wasn’t with Sebastian. She was trapped in a monster’s lair, one simple word away from losing her soul.

She was alone.

All her life, she’d been surrounded by people she cared about and who cared for her. Her mother. Thad. Cleo. Mama Eleni. Sebastian.

Now her mother was gone. Her brother and her friends were out of reach. And Ari had foolishly thought she could bargain with the Wish Granter and win. She’d thought he’d choose not to take Thad’s soul in exchange for a chance at unlimited power and the promise of safety that power brought, but that he’d leave her out of the bargain.