Page 127 of White Raven

“What are you doing?” Panic swirled in my voice. The masked figure retaining me grabbed my wrists. “No!” I struggled against his hold, ramming my elbow back into his stomach. A grunt huffed from him, his grip tightening.

“Stop fighting me.” The low gravelly tone plunged down my body, my mark stinging with heat. I went still, as the collision of hope and betrayal assassinated that last bit of naïvety.

Onyx.

The contradiction of his warm physique against mine, his huge size and strength making me believe he was my protector, when in truth he was my assailant, chaining me to the table. It was the moment I realized how truly alone I was. No one was coming for me. No one stood on my side except me. I was at the whim of a temperamental king, with only my title to protect me.

Yet it was the reason I would die.

Onyx easily lifted me up onto the table, the other man snatching my ankles. Hissing and thrashing, I kicked at my captors, fighting with every ounce I could.

“Stop wasting your energy,” Onyx’s deep voice growled in my ear.

“Screw you.” Baring my teeth, I bit into his arm, the skin splitting open.

“Faen!” he hissed under the mask. His shoulders went back, his grip on me tightening, strapping my arms down to the table as the other man cinched my ankles, spreading me out as a sacrifice.

At the edges of my vision, the king reached for the ink jar and needle. The drums picked up a quicker tempo, my breath heaving in and out when he stood over me.

“I hereby mark you as mine. You will obey me, bow to me, and through the blood bond—grant me your magic.”

“Grant you my magic?” My panic started to take over, darkness smearing the edges of my vision, my head light from lack of oxygen. “What are you talking about?”

“Why do you think we need to drain you of your blood? It’s not just in sacrifice. You hold the greatest power, my dove. You are the magic key that will restore our powers again.” He tipped his head, taking delight in my ignorance. “The foretold day of your sacrifice, the magic you hold will be bestowed back into the land.” He leaned in closer. “I’m tempted to drain you now, store your blood for myself to use. But I need to make sure everything goes to plan and that your magic will siphon to me as you die.”

“Siphon to you?” I tried to understand what he was meaning.

“This tattoo will not be just a symbol on you, like you have now.” He flicked his chin at the crude marks down my neck. “Mine will be blood bound. And on the day our magic returns, all your powers will merge with me.”

“Merge? Blood bound?” I repeated, my stomach dropping at the phrase.

“Do you even know what a blood bond is?” He frowned, finding my lack of knowledge an annoyance now.

A memory rose to the surface. I recalled from my schooling an old story about the power of blood, back when we held magic on the backs of our wings, able to travel through foreign worlds. At one time every bonded couple could magically mark their mate to be able to always find each other when traveling into other realms.

“When we share blood, marking ourselves with the same symbol, it will bind us to each other. We share everything.”

A sick sensation swept over me like a rushing river. My gaze shot over to Onyx’s concealed figure, his gloved hands at his sides, the right one hiding a symbol on it. He had kept it hidden from Helvig since returning.

“I will not only be your master but will be able to access your powers the moment you obtain them.”

“What?” A wisp of a word.

“Your duty is to protect, Wrennlyn. Guard it with your life. The White Raven can be used for evil as well as good.” My father told me many times.

King Helvig lowered the needle to my chest, the point pushing through my skin into the previous tattoo. Searing pain arched my back, a scream ripping from my throat. All I could hear was my pulse in my ears, a symphony of agony crashing through my veins like a tempestuous sea.

“Hold still!” Gavric demanded, pushing the ink-dipped needle back into my chest.

Bile charred the back of my throat, my muscles straining against the straps, anguish dampening my skin as he tried to deepen his mark, howling out into the empty sky.

“Hold her down!” he ordered the men.

The first one moved quickly, holding down my shoulders, while Onyx stood stiffly, his hands curling and uncurling.

“Hold her!” he screamed at Onyx’s covered figure, while he tapped the needle back into my chest.

I no longer felt tied to my body, my screams piercing the air, my body convulsing. There was so much pain, my nerves were an open fire, searing under my skin.