He releases the bite, then licks the wound. “We must go.” He pulls out, and I breathe out a hard sigh.
Dressing quickly, he pulls my clothes from the floor and brings them to me.
“Hurry. We shouldn’t have tarried.”
“I enjoyed tarrying.” I roll over and stretch my arms above my head.
His gaze goes to my breasts and then lower, the evidence of our love-making on my thighs. “Taylor,” he growls. “You will drive me mad with lust.” He searches around and finds a small towel. “Here.” After cleaning me up, he hands me my clothes. “We have to get you out of here. It’s not safe.”
“I’m perfectly safe.” I sit up and pull on my shirt. “You’re the one who’s iffy.”
“What?”
I snap my fingers, and dozens of undead guards rush into the room, followed by my father, a cruel grin on his face. “No!” The voice inside me is louder. It’s as if she grows stronger each moment we’re in Leander’s presence.
“It seems the traitor has come back to me.” Shathinor motions for the guards to take Leander. “Foolish usurper. You should have burned my body and scattered the ashes across Arin.”
“I’ll get that taken care of this time around.” Leander blasts the room with ice.
“Not so fast, lover.” I call on my dark heart of death and send an orb of black to swirl around him like a shadowy prison. “Touch that and it’s going to leave a mark.”
“Taylor.” He turns to me, his eyes wide. “What are you—”
“My daughter.” Shathinor motions for me to come to him.
I shimmy my pants on and walk to his side, ever so obediently.
“This is your father?” Leander seems a bit less surprised than I’d expected.
“Did you know?” I ask.
He rolls his shoulders and keeps his gaze on me. Even now, caged by death, he’s formidable and unfairly sexy. “I suspected you might have a necromancer in your lineage after what happened with Delantis and Vanara. But this …” He shakes his head. “I never expected Shathinor, the evil of old.”
“Your mate shares my blood. She is more mine than yours,” Shathinor crows.
“Not true.” I silently send the words down the bond.
Leander’s nostrils flare as if he heard me. “Then why are you caging me?”
“All in good time.” I wink.
“What happened to you? Where did you go?” He stares at me as if he can see through me. “You’re still you, but somehow not.”
“I’m a better version of me,” I say out loud. “Taylor the changeling was weak, pathetic. I’m strong, and nothing will stand between me and my destiny.”
Leander’s gaze never leaves me. “You speak of the prophecy?”
I shrug. “Guilty as charged. Destroying the summer and winter realms seems like a great start.”
“They will fall and rise again under my banner.” Shathinor puts his arm around my shoulders.
I groan inwardly.
“My daughter is the prophecy made flesh.”
“She’s my mate.” Leander’s gaze locks with mine, and my heart twists.
“That’s unfortunate for you,” Shathinor gloats. “But her heart is set on you. So, I will allow her to keep you as a pet.”
“And if I decide to freeze you to death rather than be held prisoner?”
“Then I will kill your friends. One by one.” He whistles.
Scuffling sounds in the hallway have Leander’s glower deepening into thunderhead territory.
A host of guards yank Valen and Grayhail along, their bodies bound with iron.
“Release them.” Leander steps forward, but when his elbow brushes my barrier, the skin blackens, and he steps back.
Something filters through me, something that has no place here—guilt. “You should feel guilty. Let him go.” That voice, the one from inside is back like a bothersome gnat.
“Leander! I’m here. I’m here!” the voice screams, and I put my hands up to my ears. But it doesn’t stop. Is she growing stronger?
“Taylor.” His brows rise. “I can hear you, little one.”
Another noise behind me catches my attention, and I turn to find the obsidian witch Selene leaning against the door frame.
She looks me up and down. “Your feral looks good on you, changeling.”
“My feral?”
“The wings, the hair, the ruby lips.” She shimmies, her hard breasts shaking. “Hubba hubba. I never knew the queen of darkness, the ender of worlds, the embodiment of death would be such a turn-on.”
“Selene.” Shathinor purses his lips. “One more word and I’ll have you wrapped in iron like the other two.”
“I’d like to see you try.” She smiles, her black teeth glinting. “I let myself get caught, and I’ll leave when I like.” She splays her claws and examines them before returning her gaze to me. “Besides, I can smell doom, the first hint of the coming destruction. I want to taste it.”
I walk to Leander and stand just beyond the orb. “You came for me.”
“I will always come for you.” He moves closer. “I promised you that, and I will keep that oath until I go to the Ancestors.”
“And then?” My eyes water. Where is this weakness coming from?
“And then I will wait for you there.”
He pushes his hand through the orb, the skin turning black, but he still caresses my cheek as his flesh withers. “You are mine, and I am yours. And nothing save death can part us. And even then, not for long.”
“Leander.” The voice in my head—no, not just a voice. I know who it is. I’ve known all along. It’s me. “I love you.” Both the Taylor inside and the one I’ve become say it together.
“I love you, too.” He pulls his blackened hand back and turns his gaze to my father. “Mark this, I will be your end.”
Shathinor laughs and pulls me back by his side. “Your threats are empty, king. Come now, Daughter. We have plans.” He guides me out the door as the undead warriors advance on Leander.
As I lose sight of him, I can still feel him, the bond between us stronger than these stone walls.
12
Leander
“Well, this is cozy.” Valen grabs the bars and immediately lets go. “Iron. All iron.” He stands back from the side of the cage and looks up. “Up there, too.”
“Settle down.” Cenet stalks by the cage, his snakelike tongue darting out and tasting the air. “You aren’t going anywhere.” He points to the nearest changeling guard. “If they try anything, skewer one of them with your iron sword.”
“Sir.” The changeling guard steps forward, sword drawn, as Cenet leaves the throne room.
“Nice guy.” Valen hitches his thumb in the direction Cenet went.
“Step back. You heard Lord Cenet. I’m free to skewer any of you if you rub me the wrong way.”
“Skewer away.” Gray—large enough that his ears almost graze the roof of the cage—grabs the bars, his hands sizzling. “But when I get out of here, we’ll see which one of us dies on that thing.”