Claiming the Prince: Book One (35 page)

Magda’s heart began to skip beats. Without the light, they would be lost forever.

Out of the mist, a skeletal apparition swept down on them, bony fingers passing through Magda’s head as she ignored the phantom, still hunting for the light. She had to find it.

Please.

Damion lurched and yelped. Gur faltered.

Honey screamed again.

Magda gave up looking for the light as another ghoul with its glowing white eyes and tattered rags of spectral clothes barreled at her.

Gur dropped to avoid the ghoul. From below the whispering songs of sea-nymphs called to them.

Damion drew his sword.

“Your sword won’t do you any good,” Magda told him. “Remember?”

Gur pulled up again, somehow unfazed by her mounting panic.

“But that thing grabbed me,” he said.

“It’s all in your head!” she shouted loud enough that she hoped Honey and Kaelan could hear. “They’re not real!”

“They felt real enough to me,” Damion barked, his sword still slicing against the empty air.

"Damn it, Damion. Didn’t you listen to anything I said? We have bigger problems now—”

"What?" Damion cried.

She squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to refocus, to clear her mind. But when she opened her eyes, still no light.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. It was no use. Their only hope now was to turn back and pray they’d find their way free before Gur and Anqa grew so tired they were forced to land on the water and resign themselves to their fates.

Honey continued to squeal and shriek. Faintly, Magda could hear Kaelan attempting to calm her. But her fearful screams were drawing more ghouls. Glowing wisps darted past Magda and Damion towards the sound.

“What do we do?” Damion asked.

Magda chewed her cheek, tongue flicking over the smooth gum, chest coiling and constricting, breath hitching.

“Magda?”

“I don’t know!” she said. “I’ve lost the—”

Suddenly, they broke from the mist. The sun appeared, the arch of cerulean sky, the sprawl of a lush green island hemmed in by tranquil turquoise waters below.

A moment later, Anqa soared through the churning gray wall behind them, gaining speed and surpassing them. Kaelan held Honey tight, blood flowing over both of them from various wounds.

Damion let out a heavy huff of air. “At least you got us through—”

“I didn’t get us through,” she said, frowning. “Gur?”

“
I did
,” Hero said from her shoulder. “
Gur could not see the light, but I could. I used your connection to him to keep him on course. I would have said something, but I couldn’t risk breaking my concentration
.”

She laughed, nuzzling her cheek against him. “You truly are a hero.”

Contented waves of pride flowed through him.

“
Now I think I’m going to take a nap
.
Try not to die in the meantime, hm?”

She scratched his back. “I’ll do my best.”

In slow spirals they descended towards Eris’s island.

T
HIN TRAILING
scratches covered Honey’s body—her face, her arms, her legs. Tears rolled down her cheeks, though she didn’t sob. Her eyes remained wide and blank, but cloudy rather than glassy.

They had landed on a grassy hill, overlooking the crystal clear lake beside which sat a low-slung cluster of blinding white buildings.

Kaelan helped Honey off of Anqa, who squawked with worry.

Gur prowled, nose buried in a narrow animal trail that cut through the thick, sweet-smelling grasses. Magda picked her way over to the trail and found a broad-leafed plant growing on the trampled path. She ripped it free. Her pulse was finally beginning to slow. Once again, she brushed her cheek along Hero’s back. If he hadn’t saved them, they still would’ve been under attack in the mist and probably never would’ve escaped.

Shaking the dirt from the plant’s roots, she returned to Damion. He stood over Kaelan who was attempting to give Honey water, but she wouldn’t open her mouth.

“Plantain,” Magda said, holding the plant out to Damion. “Treat her wounds. Give me the manticore bag.”

He traded the sack for the plant.

“Kaelan, come on,” she said.

Kaelan glowered at her. “Honey is—”

“We have to be off the island before the sun sets.” She notched her chin towards the lolling orb, already too low in the sky. “You don’t want to be Eris’s overnight guest. If you stay the night, you stay for life.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Damion said, crouching on Honey’s other side.

Magda wrapped the rope of the sack around her arm and started off, not waiting.

Another wider trail led down towards the lake, a perfect oval of glassy water. Fragrant lilies of red and pink, orange and purple, swayed in the breeze, wafting faint perfume through the warm air. Frogs and crickets led the symphony of buzzing insects and trilling birds.

The dark storm of Kaelan’s presence built up behind her, descending upon her, until she finally had to turn to face him.

“I’m sorry Honey is hurt,” she said.

He gazed over the top of her head. His jaw clenched.

Her hand tightened around the rope. “We can’t go in there like this.”

His eyes fell to her. “Like what?”

“Unfocused,” she said. “Eris is not like any other creature in the Lands. There is a reason this island is guarded like it is and so difficult to find.”

“The witch doesn’t like visitors?”

“Oh, Eris likes visitors very much. I’m sure Eris would love to have more visitors. Many try to reach this island and fail. If it hadn’t been for Hero, we would have failed too.”

Hero’s tail twitched against her throat.

“Then why make it so hard—?”

“The gods made it hard. This is a prison. Eris is its only prisoner. At least, the only one who is forced to live here for an eternity. Many have died attempting to reach this place, but many have also succeeded. Some stayed past sunset or gave into one of Eris’s temptations and became permanent guests. So you will do nothing that I do not tell you to do. No matter what, never lose sight of Eris. Do not look away even for a moment or temptation will arrest you.”

“Temptation?”

“Eris will tempt you in whatever way it seems will work best, to distract you long enough so that you stay until sunset. If that happens, then you can never leave. Once I say Eris’s name, don’t look at anything else but the witch. Just like the light. We have to stay focused. We cannot lose sight of why we came here.”

Grim, he nodded.

“Let’s go.”

As they approached the interconnected buildings of Eris’s compound, the trail evened out and led up to a wooden walkway. In one direction a dock, tied to its piling, a wide barge with a crisp white canopy. In the other, a terrace of herringbone brickwork red as blood. At the center a fire burned, roasting meat. A large blond woman draped in a white gown laced with gold turned the spit, filling the air with unctuous meaty scents that did nothing to help Magda’s queasiness.

Nearby, under a white pavilion, two men were coupling with soft grunts and groans.

Magda skirted the fire pit and paid no attention to the lovers. She strode straight up the brick steps and through the open veranda doors into a cool, spacious room, well lit thanks to the skylights along the slanted ceiling.

The heady aroma of sex filled the sunken room.

At the bottom of the tiers, Magda glimpsed two men pleasuring a woman, who writhed and gasped on the floor. Her black braids splayed out across the white tiles. But Magda only saw them peripherally. Most of her attention was on the opposite side of the room. There, on a cushioned chaise built into the steps, lounged an elegant creature of indeterminate age, sex, and hue. With every moment, Eris’s features altered slightly, hair lightening or darkening, growing or shortening, nose flattening, sharpening, eyes brown, then blue.

“Eris, thank you for seeing us,” Magda said, keeping her gaze fixed on the creature, who most called a witch, but only for lack of a true word. Perhaps once there had been a name for what Eris was, but if so, it was long forgotten.

“Would you two like to join in?” Eris asked, arching a temporarily dark eyebrow, gesturing to the three on the floor. But Magda didn’t look at them.

“No, thank you,” Magda said, moving around the top edge of the room, closer to Eris. Kaelan stayed close behind her. She hoped he hadn’t looked away from the witch.

Eris’s cheeks pulled in. Eyes, currently blue, dropped to the blanket bundle swinging from Magda’s hand.

“A gift?” Eris asked.

“Perhaps,” Magda said, shifting away from Kaelan, who had moved closer, putting off too much heat. Had he looked away from Eris?

Damn it.

Magda pointed towards the trio. “But first, send them away.”

Eris sat up, silken white gown flowing over long, graceful limbs. “But I think your friend is enjoying them.”

“Of course, he is,” Magda said as Kaelan’s hand slid over her waist, his nose pressed against the back of her head. She threw her elbow into his stomach, but he took the blow, caught her arm, and pulled her hard against him.

“But I’m not,” Magda continued speaking only to Eris.

She had already lost focus once on this trip and had nearly died for it. She couldn’t fight off Kaelan or push him away, because the moment she looked away from Eris, her own desire would overwhelm her. Then she and Kaelan would spend the rest of their lives trapped on this island. “And I know you would not be so ungracious to your guests,” Magda continued.

Eris shrugged, eyes rolling, now green.

Kaelan’s hands wandered up to cup her breasts. The whole of his body pressed against her back, his lips grazing her neck. Ignoring the tremble his touch inspired—the heat up her spine, unfurling across her belly, the shiver over her skin—was growing increasingly difficult. A jolt shot straight through her core, down between her legs, as his fingers traced the hardened peaks beneath her jerkin.

She should’ve known this would be the tack Eris would use. Of course, they were attracted to each other, being a Prince and a Rae. Drawing that out would’ve been the easiest thing for Eris to do. But Magda hadn’t really known what Eris would try, so it had seemed pointless to warn Kaelan of all the possibilities. Although, she guessed that once it was over, he’d be angry she hadn’t ventured a guess. She was already angry at herself for not anticipating it.

“If you’re certain that’s what you want,” Eris said. “Or you could give in, Magdalena.” Eris’s nose lifted, teeth setting. “The desire between the two of you is . . . well, I don’t think I’ve encountered a bouquet quite like it. When he takes you, oh, Magdalena . . . I can hear your cries of ecstasy already. They reach the gods.”

Magda struggled to get her voice to work. Tamping down the host of sounds threatening to escape her while Kaelan kneaded her breasts, his lips burning her throat, his hips moving against her, took all that was left of her concentration. One of his hands slipped along her belly and under her waistband. She wanted to pull away, but also, didn’t. The periphery of her focus grew hazy as his finger broke through the curls into the dampness buried there.

He let out a soft growl in her ear, biting at her lobe and then at her neck. The emotions pouring off of him were nothing but desire, need, hunger—relentless, unerring, pure. Working a second finger in, he caught the aching nub between them. She sucked in a sharp breath as a surge of buzzing warmth pushed through her and her back arched against him.

“Magda, please,” Kaelan was murmuring in her ear, stroking her, faster and deeper, slipping in, pinching, towing her against him. “Let me in. I love you.”

Suddenly the world came back into sharp focus. She let the manticore sack fall, ripped his hand out of her, shifted her weight into his hip, hooking his ankle, toppling him, and planting a foot on his back. Never once did she take her eyes off of Eris.

“End it,” she said through the strained tremble of her vocal cords.

Eris sighed. “All right.”

With a wave of a graceful hand, the trio on the floor disappeared. Eris fell back against the shiny fabric of the chaise.

“I don’t know why you resist. My island is a paradise. What more could you want than to spend all of your days in the throes of passion with your love?”

“He is not my love,” she said. The shudders of Kaelan’s touch and desire continued to work through her. Under her foot, Kaelan had gone still and silent. She could sense him, coming back to himself. The panic, the humiliation, the anger . . . ate away at that unadulterated hunger that had almost consumed him.

Eris chortled, head shaking. “Mortals. What can I do for you, Pixie Rae Magdalena of the Eastern Cliffs?”

Magda took her foot off Kaelan and reached down to retrieve the manticore sack. “Not me. Him.”

A young man entered, carrying a golden tray with a slender decanter and three goblets.

He stopped by Magda, holding out the tray. She waved him away, keeping her gaze on Eris.

“No,” Kaelan growled at the servant who knelt to offer Kaelan a drink. The servant moved on to Eris as Kaelan pushed up, slowly. Magda didn’t look at Kaelan directly, though she could see the fiery flush of his skin and feel the searing waves of fury breaking off of him.