Mage Slave
Page 56
“What’s wrong? Are you all right?” he demanded.
“Yes, ignore it, ignore me,” she whispered, wishing he would listen.
“That’s just it. I can’t.”
She forced her eyes open, catching his. What could he mean? His voice was heavy with significance. Could he possibly…
“You should get as far from me as you can,” she said, grunting each word through clenched teeth, steeling herself to the now-savage pain of outright defiance.
“I can’t. And I won’t,” he said boldly. To her surprise, he leaned in and stopped, his lips close but just barely not touching hers. Did he really mean to kiss her? She gasped and then found herself leaning closer too without even thinking. And in response, his lips met hers, and he kissed her on the mouth.
In the same instant, both her greatest wish and deepest fear became real. At first she stood frozen, shocked. Her pain had vanished—her bond approved. The Masters would approve. The thought sickened her.
But there were more immediate things to think about—namely, his mouth. Before she could stop herself, she found herself returning his kiss hungrily. His lips caressed hers, and she felt it all with a sharp intensity—the wetness of his mouth, his hands circling around her body, pulling her close. He pulled her out of the firelight, into the shadow of the tree trunk, and pressed her body against it with his own. She kissed him as though she might never kiss anyone again. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps she wouldn’t. She could not think of how another kiss could possibly be better than this one in this moment.
The flutes from the campfire wove fine melodies around each other, and the drums pounded a driving beat, urging them on. Still, something nagged at her—something was wrong with this, something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong… And it wasn’t her brand for once.
You fool, you’re helping them.
She broke away from him abruptly and staggered a few steps away. If he thought she loved him, he would never run. He would never get away. He would be bound to the Masters even more surely than she was. This was the problem, the cause of her grief. She could need his kiss like a seedling needs the sun. She could want him like a drowning woman wants breath. But if he knew she needed him so desperately—how could he ever leave? He never would.
And he had to. He had to get away from the Masters if there was ever another chance. Her shoulder sliced into her with agony, and she lurched to one side.
She had to find some way to drive him away. As much as it would hurt, as much as she would hate it, she hated helping them much more. She would not see him destroyed if she could prevent it. Her shoulder seemed to have sprouted thorns that now ground and twisted and ripped through her flesh. She could not defy the brand, but perhaps she could at least not help them willingly. She would not show him how much this hurt.
“What’s wrong?” he said softly, a note of fear in his voice.
She said nothing for a long while, unsure of what to say. Should she pretend? Could she? Should she lie? Would her bond even let her? Could she stand to break his heart?
“We can’t do this, Aven,” she whispered, her voice rough and breaking. Her voice was made of gravel, it seemed.
“Why not?” he said simply.
She wanted to tell him—well, everything. But there was no way. “I wish I could explain. But I can’t. I am not worthy of this,” she whispered.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Yes, you are.” There it was again, that king’s conviction aimed right at her. She couldn’t help but instantly believe him. And yet, it changed nothing.
“You don’t know what they’ll do to you. You are worth more than this. Nothing is worth what they’ll do.”
“You’re wrong, Mara.” She wished for a moment she had told him her real name.
“I know what they’ll do, and you don’t. How can you be so sure?”
“Tell me, then.”
“I told you, I can’t. There is darkness there. You can’t imagine.”
He circled in front of her and grabbed her shoulders with both hands. His eyes bored into hers. “Don’t you see, I don’t care. Please, please, listen to me. I will go into that darkness with you. I will go into any darkness with you. I swear it to you.”
She bit back a gasp at the beauty of his words. They were almost a vow. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “No! Don’t follow me. You don’t have to go there. I hate myself for dragging you there.” She clutched at her shoulder at the pain her words inflicted. His eyes followed the gesture. She wondered if he understood.
“You’re not dragging me. Not anymore. I’m going willingly now.”
She cried out even as the physical pain lessened. “Don’t you see that that’s the last thing I want?”
“Why? I felt the way you kissed me. We belong together. You and me. We’ll go wherever you’ve got to take me, and we’ll find a way out.”
“There is no way out,” she whispered. “You don’t understand what you’re promising.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be very courageous of me if I did, now would it. Don’t you know that this is a prince’s specialty? Making fine, foolhardy promises and then having to live up to them? Many such promises have been made over much less worthy causes and people.” He smiled a little, and the attempt at humor did seem remarkably brave.
She tried to smile back, but she couldn’t do it. She ached too much, inside and out. Perhaps he was a fool—but he was a fool because of her.
He started to pull her close to him again, but she resisted. He stopped immediately. The sudden sadness in his eyes almost broke her; it drove a spike of ice straight into her chest. But what was this small sadness compared to a lifetime of enslavement? Compared to the whole world losing him forever? She wouldn’t be a part of doing this to him if she could at all resist it.
“We cannot do this,” she whispered again.
“Are you promised to someone else?” he asked suddenly. Her mind went blank as she blinked at him, shocked. “Please, I would rather just know.” She shook her head. “Are you… in love, then?” he asked, swallowing hard. She could only stare in surprise. She was convincing him, wasn’t she? It was working. What should she say—a truth that would damn him or a lie that might save him?
Those eyes, that face… She couldn’t lie, even though she should. She shook her head.
“Yes, ignore it, ignore me,” she whispered, wishing he would listen.
“That’s just it. I can’t.”
She forced her eyes open, catching his. What could he mean? His voice was heavy with significance. Could he possibly…
“You should get as far from me as you can,” she said, grunting each word through clenched teeth, steeling herself to the now-savage pain of outright defiance.
“I can’t. And I won’t,” he said boldly. To her surprise, he leaned in and stopped, his lips close but just barely not touching hers. Did he really mean to kiss her? She gasped and then found herself leaning closer too without even thinking. And in response, his lips met hers, and he kissed her on the mouth.
In the same instant, both her greatest wish and deepest fear became real. At first she stood frozen, shocked. Her pain had vanished—her bond approved. The Masters would approve. The thought sickened her.
But there were more immediate things to think about—namely, his mouth. Before she could stop herself, she found herself returning his kiss hungrily. His lips caressed hers, and she felt it all with a sharp intensity—the wetness of his mouth, his hands circling around her body, pulling her close. He pulled her out of the firelight, into the shadow of the tree trunk, and pressed her body against it with his own. She kissed him as though she might never kiss anyone again. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps she wouldn’t. She could not think of how another kiss could possibly be better than this one in this moment.
The flutes from the campfire wove fine melodies around each other, and the drums pounded a driving beat, urging them on. Still, something nagged at her—something was wrong with this, something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong… And it wasn’t her brand for once.
You fool, you’re helping them.
She broke away from him abruptly and staggered a few steps away. If he thought she loved him, he would never run. He would never get away. He would be bound to the Masters even more surely than she was. This was the problem, the cause of her grief. She could need his kiss like a seedling needs the sun. She could want him like a drowning woman wants breath. But if he knew she needed him so desperately—how could he ever leave? He never would.
And he had to. He had to get away from the Masters if there was ever another chance. Her shoulder sliced into her with agony, and she lurched to one side.
She had to find some way to drive him away. As much as it would hurt, as much as she would hate it, she hated helping them much more. She would not see him destroyed if she could prevent it. Her shoulder seemed to have sprouted thorns that now ground and twisted and ripped through her flesh. She could not defy the brand, but perhaps she could at least not help them willingly. She would not show him how much this hurt.
“What’s wrong?” he said softly, a note of fear in his voice.
She said nothing for a long while, unsure of what to say. Should she pretend? Could she? Should she lie? Would her bond even let her? Could she stand to break his heart?
“We can’t do this, Aven,” she whispered, her voice rough and breaking. Her voice was made of gravel, it seemed.
“Why not?” he said simply.
She wanted to tell him—well, everything. But there was no way. “I wish I could explain. But I can’t. I am not worthy of this,” she whispered.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Yes, you are.” There it was again, that king’s conviction aimed right at her. She couldn’t help but instantly believe him. And yet, it changed nothing.
“You don’t know what they’ll do to you. You are worth more than this. Nothing is worth what they’ll do.”
“You’re wrong, Mara.” She wished for a moment she had told him her real name.
“I know what they’ll do, and you don’t. How can you be so sure?”
“Tell me, then.”
“I told you, I can’t. There is darkness there. You can’t imagine.”
He circled in front of her and grabbed her shoulders with both hands. His eyes bored into hers. “Don’t you see, I don’t care. Please, please, listen to me. I will go into that darkness with you. I will go into any darkness with you. I swear it to you.”
She bit back a gasp at the beauty of his words. They were almost a vow. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “No! Don’t follow me. You don’t have to go there. I hate myself for dragging you there.” She clutched at her shoulder at the pain her words inflicted. His eyes followed the gesture. She wondered if he understood.
“You’re not dragging me. Not anymore. I’m going willingly now.”
She cried out even as the physical pain lessened. “Don’t you see that that’s the last thing I want?”
“Why? I felt the way you kissed me. We belong together. You and me. We’ll go wherever you’ve got to take me, and we’ll find a way out.”
“There is no way out,” she whispered. “You don’t understand what you’re promising.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be very courageous of me if I did, now would it. Don’t you know that this is a prince’s specialty? Making fine, foolhardy promises and then having to live up to them? Many such promises have been made over much less worthy causes and people.” He smiled a little, and the attempt at humor did seem remarkably brave.
She tried to smile back, but she couldn’t do it. She ached too much, inside and out. Perhaps he was a fool—but he was a fool because of her.
He started to pull her close to him again, but she resisted. He stopped immediately. The sudden sadness in his eyes almost broke her; it drove a spike of ice straight into her chest. But what was this small sadness compared to a lifetime of enslavement? Compared to the whole world losing him forever? She wouldn’t be a part of doing this to him if she could at all resist it.
“We cannot do this,” she whispered again.
“Are you promised to someone else?” he asked suddenly. Her mind went blank as she blinked at him, shocked. “Please, I would rather just know.” She shook her head. “Are you… in love, then?” he asked, swallowing hard. She could only stare in surprise. She was convincing him, wasn’t she? It was working. What should she say—a truth that would damn him or a lie that might save him?
Those eyes, that face… She couldn’t lie, even though she should. She shook her head.
