have lost several pints of blood,” he countered.
Saieke shivered at his distorted voice. She lifted her fingers to her throat feeling for her pendant. It was gone. “My pendant …if you would locate it for me, I would be most grateful.”
He rose fluidly to his feet and then disappeared. She reared back when he appeared at her bedside. “Ahh...” she groaned.
He crouched so that she looked down at him. “What can I do?”
Saieke blinked at him in bewilderment.
He was concerned?
“If you could locate my pendant …”
He dangled it in front of her with the vial. She grasped it, and he still did not move. She clutched it to her chest and glared at him balefully. “Why are you in my chamber?”
She tried to hold his gaze, but after a few seconds, lowered her lashes as the memory she was trying very hard to repress brushed against her mind.
“Do not fear me,” he ordered.
Clearly an absurd command. She opened her mouth and closed it several times. It was impossible to not feel fear. In fact, she was terrified. She needed to be out of the Darkage and away from him. “I...” she could not give voice to the images and thoughts in her mind.
“Speak so I may lay the fear that beat from you so powerfully to rest,” he said flatly.
“I was attacked…and I saw something…” Saieke held her breath as anxiety seared her. “It had three heads, and the eyes of the king, but not the king’s. It came from his …out of him and the feelings that came from it are not to be borne.”
Her fear spiked as he got colder.
“Let the image burn from your mind, Princess. Your attackers were arrested and await trial in the dungeon.” A grimace twisted his lips. “The taste of your fear is repulsive, control it.”
She glared in stupefied amazement. “You believe that if you order me to not feel fear, it will vanish?” Saieke took a deep calming breath and then winced. She could feel that their healers tried to mend her, but it was primitive work at best.
He watched as she painstakingly uncapped her vial and took a mouthful. The healing elixir rushed through her with warmth, like a soothing balm. Saieke’s bones pinched, reconnected, and vessels that had burst repaired themselves. Vitality flushed her skin and made it glisten. Within a minute, she was restored to full health and energy.
He observed it all with an inscrutable expression on his face. “You are still consumed with fear, Princess.”
“And you will simply live with the taste,” she snapped.
Disbelief scythed through her when amusement gleamed in his eyes.
She sat against the headboard of the bed. “What did I see?”
“You saw my king’ s Cerja .”
“What is it?”
There was the slightest of hesitation, then the corner of his mouth tightened. “Every Darkan is born with a
Cerja
—a tattoo of a beast that lives in us inked on our back. What you saw was my king’s beast. He summoned it for your protection.”
The memory of Drac’s fangs, the cruelty that lined his face, red eyes, and the blackest of
charka
all around him rose in her thoughts. She sucked in her breath, her hands flittering to her throat. He had bitten her. The king had thought to protect her from him? “He called forth his beast for my protection?”
“King Gidon would have taken my life to protect you,” Drac said, his voice implacable.
“Why did you bite me?”
He lowered his lashes, before lifting his eyes to her. The regret in them was unmistakable. “Forgive me, Princess. I lost control and I...” A grimace flashed across his face. “I have yet to figure out why I attacked you.”
“You also saved me.” She allowed her gaze to caress the paleness of his features, the dark mark that curve from hair to left cheek, the harsh beauty of his face, waiting for his response. He could not comprehend how frightening he looked crouched before her. Saieke’s curiosity warred with her disquiet, and his silence prompted her to speak, “All Darkans possesses a
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