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  Andaer looked from the bottle to her and the she-elf’s words echoed in his mind. He reached for the bottle and opened it for her. He helped hold her head up so that she could drink the liquid and his eyes were drawn to her throat as he watched it move with each swallow. He leaned down and traced her throat with the tip of his tongue and he heard her moan. He smiled against her skin and took the sound as submission. His hand wondered up to the dress and just as it would have exposed her smooth, untouched skin he heard a voice and he froze.

  ~

  Trik knew that only the protection of the Forest Lords had gotten him inside the Dark King’s castle. Once inside he had opened himself and allowed his soul to seek out their Chosen. He made it to the room where he had heard her voice. He tried the door handle and it was locked. Just as he was about to kick it in, a little she-elf came around the corner. She squeaked in surprise and then her face lit up.

  “Praise the Forest Lords, you’re here,” she told him as she hurried to the door. She pulled out a key and slipped it into the lock and turned it quietly.

  “You must get in there. Lorsan has already bound her to him with a blood sacrifice and now he plans to consummate it.”

  Trik felt his blood begin to boil but he knew that he had to keep his calm. He had centuries of experience masking his true emotions. He drew on this experience and cloaked himself in the cold sensation.

  “Thank you,” he told the woman.

  She clucked her tongue at him and pushed him forward. “Quit thanking me and go save your Chosen.”

  He didn’t have to be told twice. He pushed the door open silently and stepped into the room.

  Chapter 18

  Don’t ever tell yourself that you aren’t capable of murder. Under the right circumstances , anyone can become a killer. Under the wrong circumstances, the killer becomes the one capable of torture, anguish, cruelty, and all manner of unspeakable things. I am one such killer and the wrong circumstances have happened to my beloved. Death will be a mercy to those who have earned my wrath; it will be a mercy they will not receive.

  ~ Triktapic, King of the Elves

  Trik bit back a growl as he saw his mate, his love, lying on a bed with Andaer, a warrior he had fought beside many times, leaning over her body, pulling her dress down.

  He leaned casually back against the wall and pulled out the dagger from his sheath on his thigh. He flipped it in the air nonchalantly as he spoke.

  “If you pull that material any lower I will cut your hands off.”

  Andaer froze and then in a rush of movement was on his feet blocking Cassie from his view.

  “Trik,” Andaer growled, “how kind of you to come and wish me blessings on my Union.”

  Trik laughed humorlessly. “I’ve come to bless you brother, but it will be over your cold corpse as I push you over the cliff and into the oblivion.” Trik continued to flip the dagger up and catch it, blade, then handle, blade then handle, never losing his rhythm as he spoke.

  “You knew she was my Chosen, and yet you dared to touch her.” Slowly the boiling anger began to rise to the top and the calm façade slipped. “You put your hands on my mate and for that your life is forfeit.”

  “Not only my hands Triktapic?” Andaer wished immediately that he could take those words back.

  Trik pulled on his power, the Royal power in his blood, bestowed upon him by the Forest Lords and he dropped the cloak that kept his kingship hidden. He stood before Andaer in his true form, the King of the Elven race. His radiance filled the room and Andaer fought to stay on his feet. His eyes widened as he looked at Trik and swallowing became difficult.

  “You shouldn’t be, you are gone, you left,” he stuttered.

  “I have returned,” Trik’s voice rumbled in the room. “I am no longer the King I once was, tolerant of your selfishness. We are a people of many blessings, magic being chief among them and we have wielded it with wicked intent. I am tired of living in that darkness. Cassie, my Chosen, has broken the hold that it had over me. I am your King, your rightful King, and I have spoken your sentence.”

  “I didn’t know it was you,” Andaer argued. “I would have never claimed her.”

  “Does it matter who I am? She is the Chosen of another. You know what that means, you know how sacred that is and yet you attempted to defile and seduce her. You attempted to take that which was made for me, that which completes my soul. You acted out of lust and selfish desire without thought to what it would do to her.”

  “It is not only his fault,” a small voice came from behind Andaer. Trik moved like lightening as her grabbed Andaer and slammed him to the wall. He pulled on his authority and held the elf there by his will. Turning away from him he walked slowly over to Cassie. His movements were calculated and cautious as if approaching a frightened animal.

  “Cassie, love,” his voice was soft and she felt the caress of it to her soul. The voice inside of her was screaming and reaching for him.

  Trik felt it, felt his soul answer hers. He sat down on the bed next to her and reached down very slowly, pausing to see if she would stop him. When she didn’t he continued his pursuit and tied both sides of her dress back together. She let out a breath that she had been holding as she stared up at Trik.

  She felt fuzzy, but she opened herself to the urgency of her soul and let the memories out that she had hidden from for so long. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw Trik’s face when she had called him a liar, when she had slapped him, and when she had told him never to come near her again. A sob broke free and she tried to curl up on her side away from him.

  “Oh no you don’t, beautiful,” he gathered her in his arms and held her close. “Never hide from me, A'maelamin. I’m here, though you told me never to come near you. Surely you know by now that I go where I want and do what I want.”

  Trik felt her shudder against him. He pulled back and cradled her face so that he could look at her.

  “I know I hurt you, but will you let me explain?” He waited and when she finally nodded he sighed a breath of relief.

  “I was going to leave him, Cassie. I was going to walk away from Lorsan, but I felt I had to do it strategically and I should have explained that to you. I was afraid that you wouldn’t understand and so I thought that as long as you didn’t know then it wouldn’t hurt you. I was a fool. I need you to know that I want you, I need you.” He switched to his native tongue as he spoke to her soul, “Amin mela lle”.

  “I still don’t speak Elven,” she told him with a shy smile.

  Trik’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I know many languages beautiful, which would you have me speak?”

  Cassie bit her lip as she tried to hold herself together but her control was slipping. Tears began to slip from her eyes as she stared into the silver eyes of the only man she could ever love. “I need to hear it Trik, please, don’t make me beg.”

  Trik’s eyes widened in disbelief and then it was replaced by shame. “Cassie, Arwenamin, A'maelamin, you will never have to beg me for anything. I love you with everything inside me, I love you.”

  Cassie’s hands gripped Trik’s shirt as she fought to keep from collapsing under his declaration. He loved her. She could feel it flowing off of him, feel it in his touch, his stare, his soul.

  Trik saw the memories, the hurt, and the pain in Cassie’s mind as he held her face and shame crashed into him again. How could he have made her feel so worthless, so unwanted, his beloved? He didn’t deserve her, but he wouldn’t give her up. She would be lucky if he ever let her out of his sight.

  Trik buried his face in her neck as words of love in his native tongue poured from him. He wanted to kiss her, to have her feel everything inside him but he would not share their intimacy with anyone. He stood and placed her on her feet. He looked down at her and smiled gently.

  “Can you stand?” He asked.

  Cassie nodded her head and Trik saw a glimpse of shame in her but she shut it off from him. He frowned at her. He didn’t want any secrets between
them.

  “Later, Trik. Let’s just get out of here and we can deal with everything else,” Cassie told him but she took his hand and squeezed it, reassuring him that she was with him; she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Trik walked over to where Andaer was still being held to the wall. His eyes narrowed at the elf.

  “You will apologize to your Queen,” he told him.

  Andaer looked at Trik and then at Cassie. She started to duck her head but Trik reached out and gently raised her chin.

  “You bow to no one; you hide from no one. You are my Queen, my beloved, and you will hold your head high.” Cassie felt his words give her strength, but still she felt the shame of what she’d done. She knew she was still addicted to Rapture, even now as she stood there she was beginning to shake with withdrawals. She knew that she couldn’t think about it just then; she had to get out of there. She pulled her shoulders back and remembered who she had been before. She had been confident and not with the help of a drug. She met Andaer’s stare and waited.

  “I apologize, my lady. I only wanted to care for you.” Andaer was sincere. Though he had still been seeking to fulfill his own desires, she had never felt threatened by him.

  Trik was satisfied with the apology but that did not mean he had granted the elf mercy. He began to squeeze Andaer’s throat with his will and knew that it would only take a little more pressure to crush his windpipe, but her voice stopped him.

  “Trik, no.” Cassie stepped up beside him and placed a hand on his arm. She looked up at him and shook her head. “Don’t do this. He didn’t hurt me.”

  Trik growled. “Do you think what he had planned wouldn’t have hurt? Do you think you would have enjoyed his touch, his kiss?”

  She recoiled as if he had slapped her. “Of course not. I couldn’t enjoy anything, I was dead inside!”

  Trik stepped towards her and he softened his voice. “Cassie it would have been rape. You weren’t consensual. You weren’t yourself. You were…”

  “High as a kite,” Cassie finished for him and her voice dripped with disgust at herself.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Cassie. But he knew what he was doing.”

  “Don’t kill him. You are not a murderer any longer. Please.” Though her words pleaded for Andaer, her voice was emotionless.

  Trik turned back to Andaer and with a snarl freed the man. He dropped to the floor gasping for air and rubbing his throat.

  “Thank you, my King, for mercy.”

  “Do not thank me just yet. I won’t kill you today but you will spend the rest of your miserable life looking over your shoulder. You will lie in bed at night and hear whispers on the wind and you will shake in fear wondering if your time has come. You will always wonder if that day is your last because I am coming for you. I grant no mercy for one who would take advantage of the helpless, and I sure as hell won’t grant mercy to one who dares to touch my Chosen.”

  Trik stepped back, giving Andaer room and gestured towards the reflective walls that were in every room. “Leave now before I forget what Cassie has requested and give in to my desire to cut your fingers off one at a time.”

  Andaer blanched and was up and through the wall in the span of a heartbeat.

  Cassie was beginning to shake and her palms were sweating. She gritted her teeth against the withdrawals from Rapture and refused to beg Trik to get her some. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him look at her in revulsion if he saw the desperation in her eyes and the pleading in her voice when she needed more. Cassie thought of the life that she had been living less than a month ago and she snorted in disgust at what she had become. Cassie Tate, wall flower, rule follower, innocent to the ways of the world, was a drug addict. How’s that for irony?

  “Cassie.” Trik was watching her and when he reached for her she pulled back. She didn’t want him to see what was warring inside her, how she couldn’t stand the feel of her own skin.

  “Are you afraid of my touch?” Trik took another step towards her and she took a step back, a dance of love and fear, doubt and shame. “You know I would never hurt you, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she answered honestly.

  “Then why do you pull away from me?”

  Cassie looked up into his face, his amazing, perfect, beautiful face. He was searching her own face for truth, for a sign something to tell him that she was still his. She wanted to run to him, she wanted to let him be the hero and let him carry her, if only for a little while. But instead of telling him that, she lied through her teeth.

  “It’s just too soon since,” her words faded away as she looked over to the bed and Trik jumped to the conclusion that she had wanted him to.

  “Okay, okay,” he told her as he raised his hands and stepped back, “you need time and space, I can do that. But I can’t live without you, so if you have any grand ideas of running from me you can just kiss them goodbye. I’m done living without you. I need you and you need me.”

  “Triktapic, King of the Elves,” Cassie’s eyes narrowed as she spoke. “You speak so boldly, so sure of yourself. After everything, how can you be so sure?”

  Before Trik could answer, the door flew off its hinges and crashed into the opposite wall. Trik barely had time to pull Cassie out of the line of its path. He pushed her behind him and pulled his sword from its sheath.

  Lorsan walked slowly into the room and though there was a moment of fear that flashed through his eyes it was gone just as quickly.

  “So you remember where you came from, who you were.”

  “Who I am, not who I was.” Trik’s voice was calm, even though his stance was sure and ready to respond to the slightest threat.

  “Your time has come and gone, Triktapic. Who will follow a broken King?” Lorsan sneered.

  “I’m hardly broken. My soul is complete. The Forest Lords have restored me as they said they would when I found my Chosen. So you see, I am far from broken.”

  Trik reached back and touched Cassie’s hand and pushed his thoughts into her mind.

  “I want you to walk slowly back and push yourself through the wall. Picture my cabin. Go there and wait for me.”

  He saw Cassie roll her eyes in her mind before he heard her words. “I’m not leaving you. You don’t want me out of your sight. Let’s just say the feeling is mutual.”

  Trik growled. “Cassie, this isn’t time for defiance. You are my love and I need you safe. Please go.”

  “No.”

  He shook his head at her stubbornness. He felt her suddenly slam down the walls in her mind and push him out. He started to turn to look at her and just as he moved Lorsan attacked. Trik pushed Cassie hard behind him to get her as far from Lorsan’s blade.

  Lorsan brought his sword down and Trik pulled his up at the last second. Sparks flew as metal met metal. He pushed Lorsan back and separated the swords, dancing on the balls of his feet. Finally he could kill someone. He had been itching to rip someone apart since he learned Cassie had been taken and who better than the one who had stolen her.

  “What do you hope to accomplish by fighting me?” Trik taunted. “You can’t possibly think you will win.”

  Lorsan lunged again but Trik was already spinning away, deflecting the Dark King’s blade. As he did, he pulled his dagger from the thigh sheath and bent low, slicing across Lorsan’s thigh. He growled in pain and swung back around quickly. Once again, Trik barely pulled his sword around in time to block the strike.

  “Even if you defeat me here, I have already won.” Lorsan stepped back from the battle and held his sword at the ready. “I’ve already put Rapture in the casinos. Already humans are falling under its power. I have discovered one small problem with it.” Lorsan watched as his words began to catch Trik’s attention. “You see, I underestimated the human’s chemical makeup and how quickly their bodies grow dependent on foreign substances. Rapture is extremely addicting, but that isn’t really the problem. The problem is that the withdrawals are so intense that it’s driving them mad if they can�
�t get more. Already there have been five suicides. But really it saves me the problem of having too many addicted at one time. Population control and all that.”

  Trik heard Lorsan’s words. He understood what he was saying but all he could see was blood; the blood of the King before him as he writhed in pain at his feet. He lunged at Lorsan so quickly that the dark elf didn’t have time to prepare and Trik’s sword met the flesh of Lorsan’s sword arm. It wasn’t a fatal blow, but it was painful and would slow Lorsan down. Lorsan switched his sword quickly to the other hand and he had to jump out of the way to keep from being impaled by Trik. They parried and clashed, dancing an ancient war dance between enemies constantly moving, their lithe muscular bodies built for fast combat. Trik cornered Lorsan and held his sword out in front of him. His eyes narrowed and he felt power pulsing through him.

  “She is going to die, Trik. No matter if I live or not. You cannot save her. She has been on the Rapture for weeks. She cries out for it in her sleep. At first it was your name that she cried out, but now…” Lorsan looked passed Trik to where Cassie stood pressed against the wall, attempting to stay out of Trik’s way. “Now there is only one thing that she craves, only one thing that she wants and needs,” he looked back at Trik and with a wicked smile he added, “and it’s not you.” And then he was gone. While he’d been speaking, he’d slowly been inching backwards. When he finally felt the wall behind him, he had pushed himself through.

  “Damn these mirrored walls!” Trik growled. He could follow him, but that would leave Cassie alone and he would never do that again.

  He turned back to Cassie and held out his hand. “Come, we need to get out of here.” Cassie walked over to him but she didn’t take his hand. Trik shook his head in frustration but didn’t push her. She followed him to the wall and grasped a small piece of his shirt to keep from being separated from him as they passed through the mirror.

  They stepped out of the mirror into Trik’s cabin and Cassie nearly wept at the feeling of freedom, but it was fleeting as the pain from the withdrawals began again. She grabbed for the chair at the small table to steady herself. Trik wasn’t looking at her. Instead he was standing with his eyes closed as if deep in thought. She remained as quiet as she could as her hands shook and sweat trailed down her back.