Amandalyn
My scalp tingled as I drifted between sleep and wakefulness. The gentle massage of fingers through my hair reminded me of my childhood. Of Tilda, Nickoli’s nursemaid who looked after me after my mother died.
No.
The fingers smoothed from my hairline over the full length of my dark tangled mass.
Not my mother. My mother was Kerra Mercier. The former Queen of Tyalbrook.
Tug. Pull. Soothe.
The Queen.
I shifted, confused by the ache in my bones and the unyielding ground at my hip. Had I fallen asleep on the floor? I buried my face into the scratchy material at my cheek and sought a return to slumber as the brushing continued.
Scratchy material?
My eyes snapped open and reality kicked me in the gut as my eyes adjusted to the blue glow of an orb. The cave. My captor. My breathing halted, but I dared not move.
My head was cradled in someone’s lap. I looked down the length of long, black-clad legs. The hand in my hair stilled.
“I had hoped you would inherit the gifts given to your sister,” Tabor said from above me. Tears pricked my eyes as his fist tightened at my scalp. “I wanted it to be you.”
I willed my body still and asked, “Where is Selene?”
My mind was dark. It was days and nights of pitch black with an occasional spark of light from the orb. There was no order to it, no pattern I could discern. He stiffened but did not speak.
“Are you in charge or is she?”
No answer still.
“What happened to you? You were not always cruel.”
“No?” He drew the word out with a sneer.
“No.” I pushed away from him, my back aching as I straightened and scrambled over the gravel and put space between us. “You watched me when I rode the horses. You smiled. I saw it even though you stayed so far away. You found my accomplishments amusing.”
Tabor’s dark brows rose high on his forehead then furrowed together in thought.
“Did you think I never noticed? When I was a child I thought you were amused because you laughed at me. Then you began to look at me … differently.” I drew my knees into my chest.
Nickoli thought Tabor looked at me with lust—like a man who wanted to take me as his own, but I saw it differently. His looks were of hate. Of wrath.
His torso shook, as though a shiver he could not hide had run up his spine. With a grim mouth, he stretched his neck from side to side while his gaze remained fastened on me.
“I had an older sister, once,” he said, his voice uncommonly low. “I had a tribe, a mother, a father.”
I swallowed hard, confused by his statement. Had. “What happened to them?”
“Tahini, my sister, was older. She was strong with the magic. We all were. I belonged to a caravan of wanderers who practiced in spirit magic and healing. She was strong, but I became stronger. It taught me how to wield my power, how to control.”
I waited for more, but there was none. The blue-white light of the orb flickered, and Tabor’s eyes narrowed as he, once again, shuddered.
“I want to go home,” I said after a moment of silence.
“I know you do.” There was a hint of understanding in his tone.
“Let me go? Please?”
“I cannot.”
“Cannot or will not? Skye will not come. She does not know about me. She might think of me as a friend, but she is the Queen. They will not allow her to risk her life for me. You must know that. Tell Selene, tell her whatever her plan—”
“Selene?” He stood and jerked his head toward the wall. “The witch does not have a plan, child. I need your sister.”
Hearing him refer to Skye as my sister was odd. Surely they were mistaken. I could not be the youngest daughter of the King and Queen of Tyalbrook. I could not be royal. However, if it was not true, they would not have stolen me. I would not be trapped in a cave as bait.
“Why? Why do you need her?”
Tabor stepped back and I caught the way the fingers on his left hand twitched, then circled. A portal opened behind him.
“So many questions today,” he said with a slow, spreading smile. “I need the Queen’s blood, my dear.”
A pit formed in my stomach. “Take mine.”
I hoisted myself into a standing position using the wall behind me, my foot kicking a sack of food as I shuffled forward. Tabor’s dark, beady eyes glinted with amusement. “If she is truly my sister, then my blood is the same. Is it not? Take it, use me for whatever you need. Leave her.” My voice rose with each word, my strength of will growing even as my stomach turned with fear.
The portal had grown to full size and I peered around Tabor’s body for a look at where it led. Darkness. Firelight. Low moans.
A cold finger touched my cheek and my head swiveled back. I had not meant to move so near him. I was so close the pull of air from the portal tugged at the ends of my hair. Could I push him out of the way and leap through? Run for help?
No. Tabor’s voice filled my head. You will be safe if you remain here, Amandalyn. I will keep you safe.
Tears pricked my eyes as his softened. His hand dropped across my chest, brushing places he should not touch as his fingers skimmed their way along my arm until he took hold of my limp hand. My eyes clenched shut as his raspy voice continued in my mind.
He needs her. He needs her so he can be complete and then—soft lips grazed my knuckles, but I could not pull back. I was anchored to my spot. Unable to turn away yet unwilling to look at him.
Then I will be free again.
The warmth at my fingers disappeared and my arm fell to my side as my eyes flew open in time to see Tabor’s back as the portal closed and the orb died, leaving me in the dark once more.