Chapter 41 Chapter 41
Chapter 41 Chapter 41
A numb chill crept up Patrina’s arms first. She tried to move them and found her wrists lashed tightly behind the back of a chair. Ankles, too were firmly bound. The chair itself was padded, yet the sense of captivity was unmistakable. A silken cloth covered her eyes so completely that not a single mote of light penetrated; every blink left ghost shapes behind her lids.
For a long while, she heard only her own breathing: shallow, quick, edged with panic.
Then, conversation filtered through the thick wooden door. The woman’s voice was unmistakable: cool, regal, every word chosen for impact. Lady Valeska Maelis, unmistakably in command. Valeska’s tone sliced the air. “Do not underestimate Keltos. He would’ve wormed and charmed his way into her mind. But you are Maelis. Take what you desire.”
Patrina’s heart hammered. There came the measured echo of Valeska’s footsteps fading, robes whispering as she walked down the corridor.
The handle turned. Silence deepened, then a single, purposeful step sounded through the room. The air shifted, thickening with the sharp, ferrous tang of magic and something oddly floral, as if a vase of cut flowers had wilted in the sun.
Mavros entered silently, but she felt his presence immediately. A pause, a held breath of expectation. His breathing measured. Then, slow and deliberate, his boots crossed the distance between them.
When he reached her side, she sensed his gaze moving over every inch of her. A long, calloused finger lightly traced her forearm. She jerked away. The touch returned tracing her shoulder. It lingered.
A soft, predatory hum vibrated in his throat. “You’re just as sensitive as I hoped,” he whispered, the words drawn close to her ear.
“Who are you?” Patrina demanded, fighting her binds.
Mavros’s fingers slid behind her head, untying the blindfold with excruciating care. Sight took a moment to return. When it did, he was standing directly in front of her, his angular features sharpened in the dim lamplight. His hair was tightened in severe pale lilac braids, his dark eyes stared at her. His medium aubergine skin carried the unmistakable purple tint of the dark elves.
“I am Mavros Vex Maelis, of the House of Maelis. I’m sure Nyxios Keltos has spoken of me. Do you remember me? We danced at your introduction.”
She braced herself, straining against the bindings. “You can do whatever you want, Mavros. It doesn’t mean I’ll accept you.”
He chuckled, and the sound was not kind. He whispered by her ear. “That’s where you’re wrong. Limdrion is built on obedience. The collar will force the truth to the surface, maybe even truths you’ve hidden from yourself.”
Patrina stared at him, fury and fear vying for dominance. “In your dreams!”
Mavros’s lips curled into a thin, satisfied smile. “Yes, fight me. I don’t mind your fear. And what you fear, you’ll eventually submit to. But don’t worry, I’ll be merciful. I’ll show you pleasure as well as discipline. You might even thank me.”
She spat at the ground near his boots.
He only laughed, extracting a gleaming collar from his pocket. The metal glowed with a cold, blue-black sheen, the gemstone darker and larger than the one she’d worn before. He held it at her throat, eyes glittering.
With a single motion, he snapped the collar closed around her neck. It clicked, firm and absolute. A perfect fit. The magic surged instantly, an icy current running down her spine. The indigo stone at the front burned with sudden, uncanny life.
Patrina gasped, instinctively raising her chin to fight the sensation. The color of the band deepened, growing more intense with every heartbeat.
Mavros’s hands lingered at the base of her throat, his expression growing smug. “Look at that. You know, some say the darker the initial color, the more likely the human was meant for their true owner. It suits you, don’t you think?”
She glared up at him. “You’ll never break me. You must know that.”
He shrugged, brushing her hair back from her face with a gentleness that made her flinch all over again. “Then I’ll just enjoy the process. I prefer it when you struggle. It makes the victory sweeter. And if persuasion fails, there are other ways.”
He pressed two fingers to the gemstone, as if confirming the bond. She swallowed in fear. Satisfied, he let his palm settle over her collarbone in a possessive gesture, humming a faint tune that sent a tremor of revulsion through her.
Mavros leaned in, close enough that she could smell the leather of his clothes. “By morning, you’ll see things my way. House Maelis never lets its prizes slip away, not for any price.”
He straightened, circling the chair, admiring her. When he finally stepped away, the sense of his presence lingered long after, as strong as the fresh, burning ache of the new collar locked around her neck.