Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(12)

"We will destroy you," Ovailia said, her voice hard. I just met her gaze. I had nothing to say to her. I could rebut. I could be scared and give her what she wanted. I did none of that. I did, however, choose to laugh. It wasn't the wicked laugh of my father or the taunting laugh that had just graced Ovailia’s lips, it was light and joyful, the change in mood jarring. Ovailia's face fell and she looked around, her shoulders stiffening in expectation. I took my opportunity and slammed my bare foot against the ground, the rippling energy moving around us again, sending Ovailia off me and causing my father to fall away. His hands released my arms as he fell into the ground.

I didn't wait. I spun away, regaining my balance as quickly as I could, and stumbled away from them.

I called out for help, trying to ignore the gripping panic that was trying to stop the beat of my heart, and spun around to where Ovailia and Timothy were attempting to get back to their feet. I sent a stream of energy toward them, hoping to restrain them before they regained their bearings, but Ovailia caught sight of what I was doing and blocked my weak magic with a powerful shield of her own.

I immediately moved to attack, sending a bright light toward them, only to have Timothy block it as Ovailia sent her own attack in my direction. I dodged and blocked the attack a moment before it would have hit me, only to see another force in my direction.

"Come on, princess," Timothy taunted, "let your ol' dad give you a present!" I blocked his assault, but just barely. I could feel the heat graze my shoulder as the muscles in my arms tensed, the warning of what my father's magic would do to me as clear as if he had said it. The attacks kept coming, one after another, and I knew what they were doing. I wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough, to fight off one, let alone both of them. I had walked into this fight knowing I was too weak, my anger fueling my desire, but now my only option was to play defense. I couldn’t attack. I could only hope to hold off their attacks long enough to give myself enough time to escape.

I fell to the side, sending heat through the ground with my skin contact, the earth responding to my touch. I rarely had control over what my touch would do in these caves, but this time, I focused. I forced the magic into my desired outcome and watched as they crumpled to the ground, their mouths opened in horror as their bodies heated up from the inside.

I picked myself up and ran, stepping over them in my haste to get away, to find Talon.

I spun around the corner and slammed into the thick barrel chest of a man who smelled of death and smoke. I didn't need to look up at him to know who it was. I pushed my hand into his chest and sent a stream of fire into it, only to be met by a shield that blocked my pointless attack.

"My, my, Wynifred. You would think that after a few hundred years, you would know better," Edmund hissed, his thick fingers curling around my tiny forearm.

I tried to pull away, but I wasn't even sure why. There was no escaping now. His fingers met the small indentation of my spine through the skin in the back of my neck, and I felt the white-hot heat of his magic shock into my spine. His magic surged, numbing each and every one of my nerve endings and muscles before I could move even so much as an inch. I felt the ripple of the attack move through me before everything went dead, my body going limp as I fell into his arms. He held me against him, my head lolling. My unfocused eyes came to rest on the bruised, bearded man Edmund had been dragging around by the chains attached to his wrists.

I couldn't even move my eyes, I realized. I just stared at the intense green gaze of the battered man as Edmund placed a smooth stone on my tongue, his magic pulsing just enough to force a reaction that would make me swallow it. The tiny stone slipped down my throat and toward my stomach. The further it traveled into my body, the more numb and unresponsive my magic felt.

An omezující stone. The rare rock that was given to prisoners as a magical restraint.

I felt it as it lodged itself in my stomach, my numbed body unable to fight it. I felt my magic slow to a stop, freezing in place before it traveled to surround the rock – where it would stay until I could find someone powerful enough to remove it.

I could feel the wetness of my silent tears roll down my cheeks, my body accepting my defeat without my permission, accepting my loss.

"Wonderful," Timothy said as he came up behind us. "I was hoping someone would grab the little whore."

Timothy grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, my eyes drifting to the roof of the cave tunnel, unable to focus on their own.

Edmund chuckled at my father's comment. His rumbling voice vibrated through my head as he hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me down the hall, my desire to find my mate pulling me in the opposite direction.





Chapter Four





My body was still numb. Edmund had carried me into the dungeons below Prague after he had incapacitated me. The dark space was cold, wet and smelled of mildew. I had wanted to look around, see what horrors had made this place forbidden, but my eyes still would not respond to my commands. I stared into the darkness as my hands were bound and chained above my head, the chain extended until I was pulled to a stand, my weight supported by my wrists, my weak legs not able to hold me. Even though I could feel the stone against the balls of my feet, I couldn’t move my legs to try to stand against it.

They left me there, alone, strung up against the cold stone. I hoped that the mysterious power I shared with the stone of these walls would awaken and ignite, but the rock Edmund had forced down my throat had done its job. I was powerless.