My feet hit the marble, and Rosalind released her grip. I rushed to the foot of the stairs, dropped to my knees at Drayce’s side, and placed a hand on his cheek. His skin was cool, and he lay with the stillness of death. I placed my fingertips beneath his nostrils. The faintest wisp of warmth caressed my skin, and I sagged with relief. He was still alive.
I turned my gaze to the sprite, who stood in the middle of the cage. “What did you do?” I snarled. “Why did you attack my mate?”
“He has fallen into an enchanted sleep.” The sprite wrapped her arms around her thin chest. “And he will rot, just like my people.”
“I was going to help you.”
She raised her pointed nose in the air. “High faeries don’t care about the likes of us.”
Hopelessness weighed down my heart like an anchor that threatened to hold me under a sea of despair. Drayce and I hadn’t been together twelve hours, and someone was already trying to take him away. I didn’t know anything about breaking curses or sleep enchantments or the workings of this realm.
I turned back to Drayce, whose breaths were so shallow that his chest didn’t move. “You’ll die for this.”
“I’m ready to risk everything for the sake of my village,” replied the sprite.
“Your Majesty,” said Rosalind. “Would you allow me to apply a little torture?”
“Yes,” I said through clenched teeth. “And make it hurt.”
Osmos bowed low. “King Drayce is in a very vulnerable position without the means to protect himself. Not everyone within the Royal Court wishes our queen to mate with one from the realm of death. Do I have your permission to move him into a secure location?”
“Where?” I frowned.
“Nobody can enter the queen’s chamber except for us,” said Rosalind.
Osmos raised his hands, and Drayce rose four feet into the air. He nodded at me to lead the way, and I strode to the nearest wall. A doorway opened into the queen’s chamber, and the intensity of the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows made me squint. I had thought it magnificent in the morning, but now it was too bright, too stark, as though the sun cast its light on my shortcomings and found me wanting.
Drayce’s bedroom felt like a warm cocoon compared to this, but if this room provided him the best security while we worked out how to heal him, I would endure the harsh light.
We crossed the queen’s vast writing room, where Destry stood by a door on the space’s far-right and dipped into a low curtsey. Like the other chamber, this was also drenched in light with gold moldings on the walls that curled and glinted in the sun.
In the middle of the room stood a four-poster bed that looked like it had been carved out of tusks. Heavy, white drapes covered its interior, providing the only shade.
Osmos floated Drayce through the curtains and settled him onto the bed. I crossed the pale wood floors that yielded underfoot and settled beside him on the soft mattress.
As Osmos removed Drayce’s boots, I placed a hand on Drayce’s bare chest. “What has happened to you?”
A tiny bead of crimson blood rose from his breastbone.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Osmos stood over me and tilted his head to the side. “It must be where the sprite attacked him.” He held out a hand, curled his finger, and raised the droplet of blood. “I still sense no poison.”
I slid my fingers over the smooth skin of Drayce’s chest, waiting for another drop to emerge. “Could you open the curtains and let in the light?”
The drapes parted, revealing Destry on the other side, wringing her hands. While Osmos took her to one side and whispered an explanation, I peered down at the source of the blood. Right on the dip of his chest muscles and in line with his nipples was a tiny pinprick.
“Osmos,” I said without raising my head. “Look at this. I think she left something inside him.”
Osmos returned to the bedside and hovered his palm twelve inches over Drayce’s chest. The iridescent nails on his fingers sparkled in the sunlight as he raised and lowered one finger, then another, and another.
I held my breath, not wanting to interrupt his magic, and stared at the pinprick. Another bead of blood resurfaced, followed by something long and red and glistening. The muscles of my stomach tightened, and I swallowed several times in quick succession. What in the name of all that was holy had that sprite done to Drayce?
When something thin and metallic rose from his chest, Osmos floated it between his fingertips.
“A needle?” I whispered.
“I detect no curses or substances on the object.”
Frustration welled through my insides. Drayce was a king, a demigod, the ruler of the Otherworld. How could he fall to a simple needle wielded by a tree sprite?
An idea drifted into my mind like a wraith. “What if by breaking his curse, I triggered something worse?”
“Your Majesty?” Osmos tilted his head to the side.
The entire story spilled from my lips, starting with that terrible Samhain when Queen Melusina cursed Drayce for helping Father to hide from her and the huntsmen. I told him about how Drayce had found Father and me in our cottage, told him about our quest to find the magical objects for Queen Melusina, and ended my story with the cruel way in which I had broken Drayce’s curse.
My throat thickened. “She was vindictive enough to kill his father, seal his powers, and curse him with a bestial appearance. What if she created two layers?”
Osmos shook his head. “King Drayce was not cursed before.”
“And now?” I ask.
He closed his eyes. “Apart from the wound in his chest, I cannot see or sense anything wrong. However, King Drayce appears to have lost his soul.”
“Are you an aon-beannach?” I asked.
He opened his eyes and stared at me for several moments. “How do you know?”
I tried not to look at the six-inch horn protruding
