Her heart bottomed out in her feet, tears welled in her eyes, and she reached forward, as if she could draw him to her. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.
He was here. Fordham was here.
In Carithian.
She had given up hope on finding him. He could have fallen through a portal anywhere in all of Domara. They could have ended up on opposite sides of the country. She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to reach for him across their mating bond.
The reality of it snapping in half when her magic had drained away still made her physically nauseous. She could hardly even think of it. It was gone. A bond that she hadn’t even known meant the world to her until it settled over them that fateful day in their townhouse in the Artisan Village. Back when he had said he was going to court her properly. That he was going to make it all right.
And it had all fallen apart.
“Fordham,” she repeated in awe.
He stepped forward. Real. He was real. “Kerrigan.”
Her body shuddered at the sound of his voice. The way he wrapped it around her name. The rest of the party dropped off around them. It didn’t matter that she was currently enslaved to Constantine and had no free will over her own actions. She didn’t have her magic. She didn’t have anything. But Fordham was here. And the rest of the world would right itself around her.
They moved toward each other, an invisible string tugging them together. They were within arm’s reach when she nearly broke down. She had been running on nothing but adrenaline and hope these weeks without him. She wanted to collapse into his arms and put all the hurt behind her.
“You’re here,” she whispered. She swiped at a tear that had formed in the corner of her eye. “You’re really here.”
“I’m here.”
“I didn’t know where you were or what had happened with the portal. I’d thought we’d fall through together. And you were injured.” She gasped and examined him closely. “You were stabbed.”
“I’m okay.” His hand came to hers, and every nerve in her body came alive at the sensation. “A healer tended to me.”
“Who? How?” She had so many questions. Too many for the crowded dance floor. Too many for all the eyes and ears on them currently.
“It’s a long story,” he said, exhaling roughly through his nose. His eyes hadn’t left her, but for a moment, irritation flashed through his mercurial irises. “I don’t know how much time we have.”
But time didn’t matter anymore.
Fordham still had his magic. Fordham had dark shadow magic. He could jump between destinations. It didn’t work for incredible distances, especially if he was trying to move more than himself. Still, he could get them out of this party and away from Constantine. They could find her mother and end all of this. She didn’t have to play into this charade any longer.
Her grip tightened on his arm. “Jump us out of here.”
His face clouded over. That irritation was replaced by … panic. A look she had never seen on his face. Fordham was strength above all else. Even when he’d had to play a horrible part with his father within the halls of the House of Shadows, a part that he’d despised, he’d still done it with the same calm fury.
“Fordham?” she whispered.
He removed his hand from her arm. “You should go.”
“Go?”
“I don’t want her to see you.”
“Her? Who?”
He shook his head. “There’s so much I can’t say.”
Finally, his eyes left hers. As if he couldn’t bear to look into her face again. He swept the room with a calculated motion that she’d seen him use a hundred times. The look of a warrior who had seen battle for years longer than she had been alive. He was assessing threats to her person. But who would dare threaten someone who looked like a Doma in this room?
“Felicity,” a voice said behind her.
Kerrigan stiffened, and Fordham mirrored the position. She’d forgotten for a second that she’d been dancing with Constantine. That he’d been at her back this whole time. How much had he heard? Did he understand what he was seeing between them?
She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to see her Andine jailer for another moment. Not when Fordham was right here. Not when he should have already grabbed her around the waist and jumped them out of this party. Out of all of Carithian, if it came to that.
Except Fordham did none of those things. He just stared at Constantine with barely suppressed rage. A fight brewing by looks alone.
So, she took a breath and slowly turned to face Constantine once more. “Yes?”
“Are you going to introduce me to your … friend?”
She didn’t want that at all. Not even a little bit.
When she said nothing, Constantine’s jaw tightened in irritation. “I wasn’t aware that you knew anyone in Carithian.”
“Neither did I.”
Constantine took another step forward. “I haven’t seen a full-blooded Fae around these parts in some years.” He held a hand out. Fordham stared down at the hand, as if expecting the worst. “Our people were once united during the war. I am General Constantine Pallas of Leon.”
At the sound of his name though, Fordham’s gaze jumped to the general. “Your name rings true among my people.”
Constantine bowed his head once. “The genocide of your forefathers was a true tragedy. I only did what I could to make sure it wasn’t complete.”
Fordham nodded, his throat bobbing. “They speak kindly of you. Those who remain.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
Kerrigan glanced between them. She didn’t know what was happening. She and Fordham had only been here a matter of weeks. She had barely learned the history of the people. How had Fordham made it seem like he had ancestors who had fought in the war?
“What happened to the Fae?” Kerrigan asked.
Something extinguished in Fordham’s eyes at the question.
Constantine, too, looked troubled, but he was the one to answer. “You haven’t heard of the Road to Leon Massacre?”
“No,” she said softly.
“The Fae were always persecuted in Domara for their magic. The Doma …” Constantine glanced around, as if expecting one to jump out and slay him for speaking ill of them. “Well, they aren’t friendly to those who have powers that they don’t understand. It was why they removed many of the dragons. So many of the Fae were rounded up and sent away. During the Ando-Domaran War, the Fae partnered with Andine. Both wanted a free world.”
“They were slaughtered,” Fordham said hollowly. “Every last one of them.”
Kerrigan blanched. “Gods.”
“There are only pockets of Fae left in the world,” Constantine said. “Most have had to lie with humans to keep up their numbers at all.”
Her fingers went to her ears. “Fae-touched.”
“Indeed. There’s some interest around them again now that the war is a more distant memory … for most.” He glanced to Fordham. “Did you have family in Leon?”
“No. I fought on different battlefields. But I feel the pain of their loss all the same.”
“As we all do,” Constantine said softly. Then, he glanced between them. “Will I get the story of how you know each other?”
Fordham snapped out of it then. His gaze landed back on Kerrigan. Want mixed with regret at the sight of her. “We fought on the same battlefield.”
Constantine looked dubious. Even with someone else explaining their connection, his prejudice against female fighters still made him refuse to believe the truth.
“Well, I know Fae allow their women to train to fight,” he said dubiously. “Though I don’t understand it myself.”
Fordham opened his mouth to respond, then promptly snapped it shut. A haze fell over his entire body, as if he was preparing to run, and yet he was positively immobilized.
“There you are, darling!” a woman’s voice crooned as she stepped out of the mass of people in the ballroom to where they stood.
She was of an indistinguishable age with honey-blonde hair that shone like starlight in the tight curls, like a cloud around her head. A style that Kerrigan had noticed was in vogue. Something she had never had to work at with her natural spirals. The woman had a layer of cosmetics pressed to her skin with full dark-red lips. Her white toga was draped perfectly to the high fashion of the room and trimmed with the deepest purple. A senator’s wife then. Kerrigan would have known her as powerful just by the exaggerated confidence in her gait.
“Iris,” Constantine said with a slight head bow. “Always a pleasure.”
Though he held no warmth in his voice.
“Hello, General,” she said crisply. “I shouldn’t be surprised to find you with my Fae darling. Have you been catching up on old war stories?” She laughed maliciously, and no one joined her.
Constantine stiffened. “He’s one of yours?”
“Found him myself.” Her eyes drifted down Fordham’s front, and Kerrigan felt sick to her stomach. That was a possessive look. Given to something owned. Like a necklace or sword. Not a person. “Spent the last six months breaking him in.”
Kerrigan jolted at those words. “Six months?”
Fordham imperceptibly shook his head. He was warning her off of an enemy. She had seen that look from him enough to know that speaking up had been a mistake.
Iris’s gaze shifted to Kerrigan, who had as yet gone unnoticed. “Oh! Is this your little Fae-touched Doma pretender?”
She circled Kerrigan like a fox looking upon a rabbit. Kerrigan stayed perfectly still. She could feel the shift in power in the room. The crackle of magic that promised dominance. She no longer had it thrumming through her veins, but still … she knew it was there, awaiting orders.
“She looks just like one,” Iris concluded. “And you’re giving her to Tarcus?” She clucked her tongue. “Short-sighted.”
“She isn’t promised to Tarcus.”
“Truly?” Iris hummed under her breath as she came back to Kerrigan’s front. “He’s crowing about his new Doma girl well enough.”
Fordham’s brows knit together in confusion. The word Doma hung between them, but still, he said not a word. She had just as many questions as he did.
“Does she have magic? I can’t imagine you could be controlling her right now.” She laid a hand on Fordham’s chest. “It’s been almost a challenge to control this one’s powers. Whoever heard of a Fae with as much powers as he has? I’ll never know.”
Kerrigan’s eyes widened. Well, that explained why he hadn’t jumped them out of the room. Iris was … controlling him? Controlling his magic? How was that even possible?
“She has her own abilities,” Constantine said vaguely.
“Augustan told me not to buy another one,” she said with a sigh.
“Princeps knows best,” Constantine said.
She furrowed her brow at that word. He said princeps as if it were a title, but it was one she had never heard before.
Iris waved her hand. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. When will the bidding take place? Put my name on the invite list.”
“We’re still working out the details with the tournament in progress.”
“Yes, yes. You know I like exotic breeds. You should have shown her to me first,” she admonished Constantine. “Can’t account for backward logic, can we?” She turned back to Fordham then with a destructive grin. “Come along, darling. I haven’t shown you off enough. Maybe I’ll unleash enough to allow those fabulous shadows to appear. Dramatic effect.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Fordham’s voice rang empty.
He didn’t even look at Kerrigan as Iris dragged him through the crowd. Her heart broke at the sight. Fordham had endured that woman for six months somehow. She had leashed his magic and was treating him like a prize … a toy at best.
Kerrigan had hated Constantine for purchasing her, but for all his bluster, he had treated her like a person. The bidding was reprehensible. All of it was terrible. But watching Fordham’s retreating back, she was starting to wonder if she had gotten the better deal.