These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(60)

I’m dizzy and drained. Weak. I need to know where I am—to see where they’re taking me—but my eyes refuse to cooperate, and unconsciousness grips me.





Chapter Fifteen

When I come to, the sky is pitch-black. The moon is hiding behind clouds and there are no stars in sight, but my eyes adjust quickly. In the distance, a modest temple’s been built into the side of the mountain.

We’re still riding. I’m slouched in front of a large body—male if I had to guess. I count three males and a female around us, but hear others close by.

These are the people who rescued me from the fire. The ones who healed me. The ones who want me alive. But I know with every inch of my being that they are not allies. I try to move and wince. My wrists are bound, and my muscles ache.

“I think she’s sore,” the male riding behind me says. His meaty palm gropes my thigh. “I can make you real sore, honey.”

“Back off,” the female riding beside us says. She sneers as she looks at my riding buddy. “The queen wants her alive and unscathed.”

The male behind me grunts but moves his hand from my thigh. “I’d only leave a few marks—just enough to show the girl what we do to traitors.”

These people healed me to take to Queen Arya. Was the fire a trap? A way to make me drain my power so I’d be easier to capture?

Misha. I think his name as hard as I can, but I hit that wall again. Our connection must rely on my magic on some level, but they injected me with that toxin when they snatched me from the capital, and until it leaves my system, my power is gone.

In the far distance, the thunder rolls, and just beyond that . . . hoofbeats. Someone’s coming.

Sebastian? An ally of my captors?

The female beside us perks up in her seat and glances toward the trail behind us. I’m not the only one who heard it.

“We have company,” she announces, squinting off into the distance.

“How far?” a male in the front asks. He’s tall and has the same white-blond hair as Sebastian. I bet he’s part of the queen’s Golden Military. Maybe they all are.

She shakes her head. “The storm makes it hard to tell. Less than half an hour.”

Her friends stand and peer back in the direction we came. “Who else would be this deep in the mountains at this time of night?”

“Could be anybody, now that the unclean ones have their power back. Whole world’s gone to hell.”

I narrow my eyes on that temple in the distance, closer now. Can these fae see in the dark like I can? Can they see the ravens circling the temple steps? When they chose this path, did they know they’d be riding through a pack of Sluagh? I doubt it. Sluagh are too powerful to risk in the dark.

Maybe that is Sebastian riding toward us, but if he’s alone, we’ll be outnumbered. I need to give him a chance, but I have no weapons, no allies, no magic. Nothing but Sluagh lurking too close for comfort.

If I can’t use my magic, I’ll have to rely on theirs.

I wait until we’ve almost reached the temple steps, then clutch my stomach and bend forward.

“Gonna be . . . sick.” My voice sounds like my body feels—beaten, pulverized.

“What is she muttering about?” the male ahead of us asks.

“She feels sick,” the female says, barely sparing me a glance. “Those injections do that, honey, but we can’t let you have your magic, now can we?”

“No. It’s not—” I rock back and forth, parting my lips and miming dry heaving.

“Aw, shit,” the male behind me says. “She’s gonna hurl.”

“So let her,” the female says.

I gag and lean into the male I’m riding with.

“Nah, I’m not doing this,” he says, jerking his horse to a stop in front of the temple. He hops off, then swings me off the horse, practically dropping me on the ground.

The others stop, and the one in the lead groans. “We don’t have all night.”

I gag again, louder this time. If I can just keep them focused on me, maybe they won’t notice the ravens that circle so close.

I crawl onto the marble steps and get a boot to the gut. “Get up,” grunts the male standing in front of me. “We aren’t going in there. Finish your business; then we’re back on our way.”

“So sick.” I stumble to my feet, then collapse again, trying to look weak—not that it’s hard. My body’s wrecked, and with my hands bound, it’s tough to get my balance.

The female hops off her horse, and my riding buddy winds a rope around his hand and yanks hard.

I stumble forward, only now realizing that they don’t just have a rope around my wrists, but one around my neck as well. Like a leash. Or a noose.

This could end very, very badly.

They climb on their horses. The male holding me snaps the rope. “Enough. You’re just stalling.”

“I could knock her out again,” the female offers, stepping toward me.

I swallow hard and pray my captors are too distracted to see the ravens I feel circling closer.

Suddenly the male holding my rope looks around wildly. “Shit! Over there!” He drops the rope and the horse’s reins and darts into the woods.

“What the—” the female ducks, as if something’s attacking her from the sky. “No! Please!”