The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)

They stood outside the study door, and stared at each other for a moment.

This was it. Her last idea. The only plan they had left. Teague would be home within the next hour. If this failed, Teague would speak the remaining word to the incantation that would rip Ari’s soul from her body. Sebastian would die. Thad would die. And Súndraille would be ruled by Teague.

“I’ll watch out for you,” Sebastian said as his lips brushed against the crown of her head and sent a delicious little shiver through her. “I promise.”

She tipped her head back so she could look him in the eye. “Ready?”

“No.” He closed the space between them and kissed her—a fierce touch full of longing that lit a fire beneath her skin. She clung to him, as much to keep her suddenly weak knees from buckling as to keep him close.

When he slowly pulled away, she pressed a hand to her racing heart. “I could get used to that.”

“Then let’s make sure you stay alive.” There was a quiet agony in his voice that tugged at her heart.

“Exactly.” She looked at the door. “Ready?”

“It’s locked,” Sebastian said softly as he tried the knob.

“It’s an easy lock to pick. There are hairpins in my bedroom.” She raced to her room, grabbed a hairpin, and returned breathless to find Sebastian glaring at the front of the villa, his entire body braced for trouble even though the house was quiet.

“Ready?” she whispered as she straightened the hairpin and inserted it into the lock. The lock turned with a satisfying snick.

He gave her a look that sent heat spiraling through her stomach, but all he said was, “Make it quick. I’ll listen for trouble.”

Step two: steal a blank contract.

She left him standing in the doorway, his back to the room while he watched the hall, and entered the study. Someone had recently polished the bookshelves and the doors to the enormous floor-to-ceiling cabinet, though the statue in the corner was still coated with dust. Ari rushed to the desk, where the stacks of parchment were still sitting. Quickly checking to make sure she was taking one that hadn’t yet been filled out, but had the faint woodsy scent of fae magic to it, she folded it up and stuffed it down her dress.

“Ready!” she said as she spun back toward the hall in time to see Maarit step out of the enormous cabinet, her eyes livid with rage.

“Sebastian!” Ari scrambled back as the woman rushed toward her. The princess hit the desk and slapped her hand on its surface, looking for a pen, a letter opener, something that could protect her.

“Betrayer!” Maarit’s paper-thin voice cracked as she raised her hands for Ari’s throat.

Sebastian slammed into the older woman, wrapped his arms around her, and lifted her away from Ari. His lips were set in a thin, hard line, his expression fierce.

“How did you get in here?” Ari asked as she pushed herself away from the desk, the contract still safely folded up and stuffed in her chemise. “You spent the day with the palace physician.”

“And you’re so very sure you should trust Jacob’s word, are you?” Maarit spat the words at Ari. “So very sure you understand everything?”

A chill crept over Ari’s skin as Maarit smiled, cold and cruel.

“What are we going to do with her?” Sebastian asked.

“We can’t keep her in the villa unless we find a way to make her stay quiet,” Ari said, her mind racing, looking for options. “She’ll tell on us the second Teague walks in.”

“We can’t keep her in Kosim Thalas. Teague has spies everywhere,” Sebastian said.

Maarit’s smile widened until it seemed like it would split her wrinkled, weathered face. “Yes, he does,” she whispered.

Ari’s mouth dropped in horror as Maarit’s skin shimmered, a light spreading along her veins to gather in her chest.

“Sebastian, something’s wrong with her,” Ari said as Maarit threw her head back, the cords on her neck standing out in sharp relief.

Ari’s stomach pitched, and a yawning chasm of fear opened deep within her as the ball of light in Maarit’s chest drifted out of her body and began spinning rapidly in place, a brilliant cyclone that hurt to look at.

Maarit slumped in Sebastian’s arms, all vestiges of life drained out of her.

He let go and stumbled back as the woman’s body hit the floor.

Ari met Sebastian’s eyes for one heartsick second as the cyclone of light slowed to a stop and shimmered into the vague shape of a man.

“Run, Ari!” Sebastian yelled as the light shuddered, like a snake shedding its skin, and became Teague, standing there in the flesh, his golden eyes glaring, the glittering diamond vial clenched in his hand.

Ari lunged over Maarit’s body, her hands reaching for Sebastian’s outstretched arms as Teague’s cold, polished voice said, “Dhéanamh.”

Pain, terrible and absolute, flooded her body—a thousand daggers slicing her to pieces from the inside out. Her veins glowed.

“No!” Sebastian screamed as he caught her and pulled her against his chest.

She met his gaze and tried to form the words “I love you” but the pain receded, the study faded, and then there was nothing.





FORTY-EIGHT


“ARI!” HER NAME ripped its way out of him, a jagged blade that scraped him raw and left unbearable grief in its wake.

He sank to his knees, clutching her to his chest as a hurricane careened through him, destroying the hope she’d given him, shredding the belief that with her love, he could become the man he wanted to be.

“Ari,” he whispered as the hurricane’s wreckage cut him to his core. Her head tipped back, and he looked at her eyes, begging her to let him see a spark, a hint of the princess who’d marched into the arena and turned his entire life upside down. Begging for hope he knew deep down was already gone.

Her eyes stared past him at nothing.

“She really was the most resourceful girl.” Teague’s voice was coldly furious as he stood over Sebastian, putting the stopper in the vial. “It would be a shame to let that mind of hers decay into dust.”

He crouched and lifted a pale hand toward Ari’s face.

“No.” Sebastian hurled the word at him as he pulled the princess closer to his chest. “You don’t get to touch her.”

Teague laughed softly. “You foolish boy. Once I own their souls, I can do anything I want. Maarit’s body has served me well for years.” He lifted the vial as if to show Sebastian the trapped soul of Maarit caught somewhere inside. “But her limbs are weak, and her mind has nothing new to offer me.”

“No,” Sebastian said, but Teague continued as if he hadn’t heard.

“Arianna’s body, though, now that will be an excellent vessel. Intelligent, youthful, and very rarely sick.” Teague smiled slowly.

Sebastian’s chest burned with every breath he took. “You can’t take her body. You can’t just occupy something that isn’t yours.”

“Her body is an empty vessel.” Teague twisted the vial so that it caught fragments of light from the window. “And I hold the key.”

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