Mikael woke with a groan, propping himself up on his elbows. Whatever drug that cloth had been soaked in was certainly potent. His head and chest ached and he could still faintly scent the unknown substance.
Mikael blinked in confusion, studying the thin blades of grass that rested beneath his fingertips. He'd been moved somewhere. He lifted his head and horror crept over him. Conifer forests and ravines stretched through the foothills of Ramiel. Hundreds of unconscious Illyrian males were sprawled across the ground. A few of them stirred.
He scrambled to his feet, thoughts churning with a terrible realization. The Blood Rite. He had been dragged into the Illyrian Blood Rite. And Estelle... Mikael looked around frantically, but there was no sign of her. In fact, he didn't recognize any of the Illyrians that surrounded him.
Mikael clutched the sides of his head, recalling every detail he'd ever learned about the Blood Rite. Seven days, he remembered. It only lasts seven days. No one from the outside can interfere. We're trapped here until the Rite ends. We have no weapons, no magic, and... Mikael looked over his shoulder. Our wings are bound.
He tried to move his own, then bit back a cry of pain. His wings were bound with ashwood chains. Judging by the scent of them, they were laced with faebane too. The Illyrians' wings were bound with ropes and rags. Why had his been chained with ashwood? Ashwood could be deadly to Fae of any kind!
Mikael forced himself to draw steady breaths. I'll have to be careful and try to find a way to remove the chains, he thought. If even a sliver of that wood cuts me, the results could be bad. He clenched his jaw. Then again, maybe I won't be able to remove them. It's part of the Rite. There might be spells and wards over the mountain to ensure our bonds stay intact.
Mikael couldn't sense any spells or wards, but he'd been left in the foothills, and he was willing to bet the perimeter around Ramiel stretched far beyond this spot. He reached for his magic to test his theory. He couldn't find it. There wasn't even a spark of power in his veins.
The wards and spells here must be even more powerful than the ones placed on Aurora, Mikael thought. And there's faebane in my chains, which doesn't help. They might've drugged me with faebane too.
More of the Illyrians were waking. He couldn't stay there for long. If the stories Estelle and the Boys had shared were to be believed, these Illyrians would be less than friendly towards him and each other. Estelle. He needed to find Estelle. What would she do once she woke up?
Mikael's gaze traveled up the side of the mountain, towards the summit. The monolith, he realized. As soon as she realizes where she is, she'll start making her way to the top. I'll do the same and search for her on the way. Umbra squeezed his bicep and a few of Estelle's other shadows were wrapped around his arms. They were barely moving though. He guessed the magic placed on Ramiel was affecting them too.
I need boots, Mikael thought, glancing at his bare feet. There were still patches of snow on the ground and he would definitely need boots once he reached the side of the mountain. He began walking, scanning the still unconscious Illyrians. At least I had clothes on when I was taken.
Some of the other males weren't so lucky. A few wore leathers. Some had pants. Others had pants and shirts. Still more were completely naked. One male lay just ahead. He seemed to have a foot size close to Mikael's.
Mikael lightened his steps as he approached, not wanting to wake the male. He sniffed, knitting his brows. The coppery tang of blood filled the air. His eyes widened as he saw the line of crimson ringing the male's throat. The male was dead. The Blood Rite had just begun and someone was already dead!
Mikael tugged the male's boots off and pulled them on swiftly. He hesitated, eyeing the male's long sleeved leather shirt. Mikael swiped that too and buckled it as he walked deeper into the forest. The sounds of waking Illyrians followed him.
He needed to make a plan. It wouldn't be long before he found himself face to face with a bloodthirsty animal or a desperate Illyrian. He had to make weapons out of something. He had to find food and shelter. He had to find Estelle.
She'll be fine, Mikael told himself as panic jolted through him. She's trained for this her entire life. She'll be fine. I need to worry about myself for right now. I can't find her if I'm dead.
Mikael felt for the Mating Bond, shining in his chest. He paused in shocked horror. Mikael rubbed his chest subconsciously. He could hardly feel the Bond. It was there, but faint. Was something wrong with Estelle? Was she dying? Where was his mate? What was happening to her?
He shoved the thoughts aside, trying to reason with himself. The wards. The spells. They might be strong enough to smother the Bond. It's still there, which means Estelle is alive. She's alive.
Mikael couldn't erase her fearful expression from his mind. He'd recognized the male who had snatched Estelle from their room. He was one of Ze'ev's friends. He'd been there that terrible night months ago, when Ze'ev had tried to force himself on Estelle.
How did he get through my wards? Mikael wondered. I set them that night and never took them down. He shouldn't have been able to get in.
Then again, there had been something off about the male. He didn't seem to be aware of what he was doing. His eyes had been completely black, and Mikael had seen his dark veins through too pale skin. Mikael had to find Estelle, as soon as possible. He increased his pace, aware of every unusual sound he heard.
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Estelle picked her way silently through the forest. The shadows hung limp around her. She'd known the wards placed over Ramiel were powerful, but she hadn't imagined they would affect her to this extent.
The shadows could barely move or speak. Estelle couldn't feel an ember of her magic. Ashwood chains dug into the thin membrane of her wings, carrying the scent of faebane. Her head still ached, an after effect of whatever drug had been used against her.
She'd known where she was the moment she woke up and saw unconscious Illyrians around her. Estelle hadn't wasted any time entering the forest. She kept an eye out for Mikael, even though she knew he wouldn't be anywhere close to her location. Warriors from the same camps were always separated during the Rite. She didn't doubt that Mikael had been dropped on the other side of the mountain by whomever brought them.
Devlon and Rhys never told me we'd both be pulled into the Rite, she thought. Were the others brought too? A dark idea pricked at her mind. Maybe we were brought here without Devlon and Rhys' knowledge or permission. If so, who brought us, and why?
Estelle lifted her gaze to the peak of Ramiel. She was going to try to make it to the monolith and search for Mikael on the way. Regardless of how she wound up here, she'd still been given a chance to participate in the Rite. She wouldn't waste it. She would survive. She would find her mate. She would become a Carynthian warrior. She would find the bastards who dragged them into this and make them suffer the consequences.
Undergrowth snapped nearby and Estelle stiffened. She kept moving, even as footsteps became distinguishable. The person didn't call out. They didn't hurry after her. They just followed at a leisurely pace. Estelle refused to acknowledge their presence. She kept walking. The shadows clenched at her arms. She recognized the warning. Estelle began to run.
The person chased after her. Estelle vaulted over boulders and ravines. She wove in and out of the trees, hoping to shake the person from her trail. She inhaled deeply, but the wind was blowing the wrong way. She couldn't scent her pursuer.
Estelle cried out as someone tackled her from the side. She hit the ground and drove her knee up. A male grunted as she flipped him over her head. Estelle rolled onto the balls of her feet, clenching her hands into fists.
The male didn't get up. There was something wrong about the way he'd gone completely limp. His eyes were open and she was surprised to see that they were completely black. They were sunken into his skull and his cheeks were hollow. His veins were black and prominent against too pale skin. Estelle backed away, unable to pull her gaze off the oddly corpse like Illyrian.
"Do you like my new pet?" A familiar voice asked. A rough hand slid along the back of her neck.
Estelle whirled, coming face to face with Ze'ev. Her mouth fell open, taking in the sight of him. His skin, like the other male's, had lost its dark bronze glow and was now a pasty white. Ebony veins spidered beneath his flesh. His features weren't as gaunt as the male's, but his eyes were solid black now too, instead of hazel.
"What happened to you?" Estelle demanded, picking up a sharp rock and holding it at the ready. "You've been missing for weeks."
Ze'ev spread his arms out wide. She caught sight of glittering black gems situated atop his hands, on his shoulders, and one in the center of his chest. Siphons, she realized. He has siphons. How?
"I was doing some training of my own," he crooned, tilting his head at an odd angle. An angle that made it seem like his neck was broken. "I tried to invite you to join me." Ze'ev doubled over, a hoarse cough welling up in his chest. Dark blood leaked from the corner of his mouth when he straightened. "You left before I could complete our lesson."
"What are you talking about?" Estelle kept backing away as Ze'ev took a few steps forward. "What the hell is wrong with you? How do you have siphons here? What happened to you?"
"Power," Ze'ev growled. "That is what happened to me. I needed more power. I learned to control what I already had. I learned how to give myself more. It took a long time to figure out these tricks, but I have to say they are worth the effort."
Ze'ev lifted a hand, curving his fingers up. Estelle glanced back over her shoulder hearing the crunch of bones grinding against themselves. The fallen warrior was standing now. A muscle near his eye twitched, but that was the only movement he made.
"You were the one who attacked me in the mountains. You brought me here," Estelle realized. "Why?"
"To finish our lesson." Ze'ev's lips curled into an unnatural grin, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth. "Not yet, of course. I realize that I'll need a little more power to best you, even with your own magic stifled. Don't worry, though. We'll meet again shortly."
"Where is Mikael?" Estelle screamed, lunging at Ze'ev. He disappeared just as she reached him, and she crashed to the ground. The other male was gone as well. Estelle stared at her surroundings, her body rigid with horror. What had Ze'ev become? What was she really facing here?