Page 23 of Maleen

He caws, soaring off his perch to land on my shoulder. “No one will get to Rav on my watch.”

Vasari snorts, “You’d probably trade her for a handful of fresh entrails.”

I roll my eyes as my bonded creatures bicker back and forth. One of these days they will realize that they’re on the same team.

Jesper laces his fingers through mine as we leave my room. “They’re really going at it this morning, aren’t they?” he chuckles as he eavesdrops on Vasari and Nero.

I shrug, not bothering to hide my grin. “It must be the weather. I’m surprised Tisur hasn’t decided to join them.”

“I prefer to let my Queen handle the spicy chicken. Plus I believe it is one of her favorite parts of the day,” Jesper’s dragon interjects before fading back into the background.

Vasari’s annoyance seeps down the bond but doesn’t seem sincere. “Tisur doesn’t know what he’s talking about. This bores me. Ravina, please leave the feathered rat behind for our flight today. I have a headache and would like peace.”

“Can dragons even get headaches?” I reply, calling her bluff—distance makes no difference over a bond. She doesn’t answer and Nero almost feels smug.

Jesper squeezes my hand, laughing. “Who needs the theater when I can just listen in on those two. Don’t worry Nero, I’m on your side,” he adds in a dramatic whisper.

“Of course you are, male. You are wise, and this is why you are clearly my favorite. Rav, your other mates could learn a thing or two from this one.”

Jesper winks at me before reaching into his pocket where he stashes snacks for Nero, and all I can do is shake my head in amusement as we enter the stairwell that leads to the ocean cells. Luckily we don’t have to go down far: the cell we’re going to doesn’t flood like the others.

My anxiety begins to amp up the closer we get to my imprisoned mate. What if it didn’t work? What if Killian is right and Tal needs to stay down here longer? What if that tiny piece of Soul Stone wasn’t strong enough to do both their minds… or worse, what if I’m not strong enough to heal more than one mind? The barrage of questions keeps coming with the only answer being behind the door that holds my potentially murderous mate.

Killian, still standing on guard, sees us coming and sighs. “I figured you would be down here sooner rather than later.”

“How is he?” I jump straight to the point.

He places his hand on the latch to the door. “He seems to be himself, but that was always the case until you entered the room.”

The shadows close in and disperse, leaving Aemon in our midst, looking sleep-deprived. I go to him, reaching up to cup his face. “When we are done here, you’re napping. I’m sure the castle can run itself with the help of the rest of us for a few hours.”

He nods. “You’re right. I suppose this means you’re feeling much better?”

A smile tugs on my lips. “Is it that obvious? Nothing like a magick stone to make you chronically exhausted. Speaking of which, where is it?”

Aemon’s face hardens. “Locked away where it won’t hurt you. Don’t worry, it’s safe for now.”

I dip my head in acknowledgement, glad that infernal stone is away from me, but also anxious because we don’t need it falling into the wrong hands. “Alright,” I clasp my hands together. “Let’s see if we can spring Tal.”

Killian unlatches the door and I step through, with him right on my heels, ready to pull me out of harm’s way at a moment’s notice. Ever since the assassination attempt, he’s been overly protective and I know it’s something I’ll have to talk to him about; but for now, if it helps him feel more comfortable, he can stay close. As long as he doesn’t become overbearing again.

The sound of ocean spray hitting the cliffside and seagulls hunting along the coast are louder in here due to the massive gap leading out to the ocean—after a fifty foot drop, that is.

Tal sits on the cold, hard, stone floor, as far from the door as he can get. He appears worse for wear: a pile of clean clothes and blankets still lies folded as if he thinks he doesn’t deserve them. Dried blood crusts around the iron cuffs, and my own scars burn with the memory of my old injuries.

“Get them off.” I want to screech it as my own panic picks up, but I don’t. I can’t. Not until we can be sure.

“Tal…” I start. “How are you—I mean, do you still want to kill me?” I laugh, trying to ease my panic and make light of the situation.

His brilliant golden eyes don’t leave mine. “No. I don’t want to kill you. But you should leave me down here anyway. Plans to kill the royals is a crime which is punishable by death. I don’t deserve you, Ravina.” He sounds utterly defeated.

“You were under the influence of magick—”

“And how do you know I’m not now?” he snaps.

Killian growls and then mumbles. “What? He has a point.”

I take a deep breath and then a step forward. Killian goes to grab me but I use the shadows to slip away from his grasp, appearing beside Talyn and crouching down to his level.