Blue light grew from two circles only a few feet away. The scent of roses and honey overpowered all else.

Erick's gut clenched as his cock hardened. "Ellie?" That manipulative demon. She'd probably been the cause of his lover's kidnapping. Had she conspired with his mother?

Her fiery gaze filled the room with light as her beams flitted down his nude body. That shouldn't feel good but his cock twitched and his abs flexed.

She slowly slinked closer, bare hips swaying as if to music.

Her firming breasts and midnight mound stole his attention. His mouth salivated with want for a taste. Earth, what the fuck was wrong with him? "Did you chain me?"

"Yes." A grin grew across her face. "Do you like it?" Erick yanked on the chains and scowled.

But she saw through the act. She always did. Her petite hands chilled his neck with the theft of energy. Fingers spread wide, she combed up his hair against his scalp as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. Her full lips sucked on his, warm and soft. Electricity coursed from her succulent mouth.

He leaned in, though he knew it was wrong. He shouldn't want to probe into the thrilling magic with his tongue. If Violet saw this in his memories she'd shove him away.

Erick forced himself to turn. The loss left an ache in his gut but he managed to say, "Stop."

He expected Eleanor to scream or punish him but instead, she pressed her whole body into his. Current hummed between them, especially where her bare belly teased his cock with warm pressure.

Earth, he wanted to buck and grind but he belonged to Violet.

"Mmm, you're mine now," she murmured, just before she kissed the center of his neck.

His head jerked back for more. He couldn't stop himself. A moan escaped his open mouth. "Wait, Ellie. I love her," but the words came out weak as her lips dragged down his chest.

Did it count if he tried? What if this wasn't his fault? He'd meant to be faithful.

"You have been very good. I think you deserve a reward for being so true." Her hands glided down his neck, over his pecs and down his twitching abs, seeming to relish him the way a musician plays a favored instrument.

His body jerked tense in anticipation beneath her strumming fingertips, waiting for that last string to be plucked.

She looked up with a smile. Stunningly beautiful. "It's too soon for that note. What about this one?" Her delicate hands slid behind him to cup and squeeze his buttocks.

Oh Earth. He bucked against her, cock throbbing.

Her hard nipples prodded his chest, purposely drawing circles to tease him.

It wasn't enough. He jerked on the chains to get closer but couldn't. He needed the soft swells of breast in his palms and on his tongue.

"Oh but I can't let you go." She kissed his mouth.

He lapped up her magic and probed as deep as he could, crushing her lips.

Her mind opened up and her lust flooded into him, doubling his own coarse desires.

He writhed and wrenched on his chains. If he were free, he'd fuck her hard on the filthy floor. "Please, Ellie."

Her thigh slid up his, wetting him with her electrifying honey. Just the scent of her could make him come.

Oh, he needed her. "Please."

The chains loosened, only enough to allow him to drop his arms and grip the full cheeks of her ass. He hastily hoisted her up, heart racing.

She parted to him and her smooth cleft slicked his bare cock. Earth, her honey exhilarated him.

He twitched and bucked.

She clutched his shoulders, nails digging in, though he barely felt them. A whimper left her lips while she wriggled to get him where they both wanted. When her tight channel squeezed him he moaned. She slid onto his shaft, just as eager. Slick, firm and warm. She stroked him as he quickly withdrew.

Gripping tightly on her ass, he thrust hard into her over and over. The chains jingled and his arms and thighs shivered from the force.

Her head tossed back and her midnight hair fluttered about as she screamed. Her orgasm gripped and wrung his cock while she thrashed against him. Her thighs squeezed and ecstasy burst from her. It hummed through his cock and gathered in his groin.

His body jerked tense. "I'm gonna come," he warned, breathless and urgent. He tried to let go, to spill his cream on her belly instead of in her cunt.

But she clung to him. "Do it." She rotated her hips to swirl his cock inside her tight clutch.

He couldn't hold back. His cock lurched with the most thrilling burst of electricity. It shot deep inside her. His cum. He couldn't stop himself from emptying. He fucked her until the last few drops spurted free.

He panted for breath. Earth, he couldn't breathe. What had he just done?

Eyes dimming, she released him from the squeeze of her thighs and popped off his cock.

It slapped his abs, excited from its first seeding. That shouldn't thrill him. He shouldn't have come inside her. She wasn't Violet.

"None of this is real," she whispered in his ear. "When you wake I'll be gone. Is that what you want?"

No. Shamefully, he wanted more. This had to be real. It was too dank and dim in here to be fantasy.

"You should have been good to me. I'd have fulfilled your every fantasy." The blue fire in her eyes extinguished and darkness fell.

"Wait, Ellie. Don't go."

Suddenly, the chains fell away and he fell to the cold floor. He couldn't move. Pain seized every muscle.

Far in the distance, Phil's voice screamed at him to breathe.

Chapter Twenty.

December 27, 9544 AR

Valetta, Biston

Raised voices made her head throb. Everywhere ached. Her skin burned and hurt worse when she tried to move, as if it had been sloughed off. Her body didn't feel like her own. Empty, as if every cell had leaked and deflated. That couldn't be right.

Eleanor forced her eyes open. Red curtains surrounded her on a bed too soft to be her own. The crimson and purple bedspread seemed like something from a whorehouse or gypsy parlor. She couldn't still be at Marilyn's, could she? Eleanor threw an arm out to pull back the curtains and screamed. The skin on her arm and hand had bubbled. Red and oozing, it didn't look like skin. Eleanor's stomach seemed to lurch into her lungs. She couldn't breathe.

What had Marilyn done to her?

The curtains stuck to her raw flesh as she stumbled out. Body weak and dizzy, she fell to the plastic floor in only her undergarments and couldn't get up. Earth, she'd die here. How much longer 'til the poison killed her? Already, spasms shook her limbs. She needed to find help.

"Ellie?" Phil's voice said. His form rounded the bed.

Panic didn't loosen its claws from her chest. "Find the antidote," Eleanor wheezed. "Oh, my Earth," Phil said, knuckle raised to his lips. 'Marilyn, what did you do?" "She's okay."

But she didn't feel okay. Pain shot through every nerve and strained every torn and raw muscle. The horrified expression on Phil's face confirmed her fears. Skinless, hideously deformed, her body must look like a butchered lamb carcass. Marilyn had ruined her. Earth, even if she survived... Eleanor sobbed and each gasp for breath hurt like a thorned stem scraping through her lungs and windpipe.

Marilyn appeared beside Phil, hair tangled, lip bleeding. Rumpled and distracted, both hesitated.

What could they do?

With a smile, Marilyn assured her, "Everything's all right. Honey, there's a balm in your pack. Just put that on twice a day and you'll heal up fine. You'll be stronger than you ever were."

Deformed. Disfigured. Broken. Her desert-dry eyes couldn't even tear. "Marilyn, how could you? Look at her."

Earth. Why had she come here? The frozen mountains would have been less painful.

"Freedom is worth a short discomfort," Marilyn said.

"Like hell," Eleanor tried to scream but coughs racked her body. Eleanor couldn't make it to the Damien Pass like this. Her heart pounded rage through her veins and into her neck and face. She'd have been better off freezing to death.

Phil crept to Eleanor and snapped over his shoulder, "Your freedom or hers?" He dropped to his knees beside Eleanor. "I'm going to pick you up. It's going to hurt." The old man bit his lip, brow wrinkled.

The knots along Eleanor's spine twisted. "No. Don't." Her body was a giant, infected cut.

When he gripped her shoulder, Eleanor wailed. Heat from his flesh seared hers. Her empty body drew it up through no command of her own. No spell fell from her lips nor tumbled through her mind. She couldn't stop it.

Phil's body shook from the force. Teeth clenched, he silently bore it.

She wished he didn't. She wanted to push him away. If she could move, she would Her oozing flesh dried and sealed closed. Slightly less raw. She could breathe without pain.

"That should do for now." Marilyn seized Phil's shoulders and yanked him back. His hand tore from Eleanor's arm.

The loss ached through every cell. Still so empty.

But Phil fell limp beside her, unconscious. Earth, if Marilyn hadn't stopped him, he could have died. Air puffed from Eleanor's freshly healed lungs. She couldn't have handled the loss of her only remaining human uncle, not yet.

"He's fine. Now, let's get you dressed." Marilyn held out her hand for Eleanor.

Marilyn had saved Phil. She could have let Eleanor drain him to death but she hadn't. Maybe Marilyn had told the truth when she said Eleanor would heal. "Will I scar?" If she did, the entire surface of her body would look like cracked sandstone. Hybrids and elves normally healed too quickly to scar but Eleanor had never been so wounded.

"No. You won't scar."

Relief soothed some of the tension in Eleanor's back but not enough to chance moving. Her healing skin might break if she reached up for Marilyn's hand.

Marilyn bent closer and her bloody lip glistened in the window light. "Who did that?"

Marilyn glanced toward the door.

The elves. Why had they tried to stop Marilyn from helping Eleanor? It didn't make sense. The elven guards worked for King Andraste, Eleanor's uncle.

"Come on, child." Marilyn took Eleanor's hand and pulled.

Agony tore down Eleanor's back as she rose to her feet. Her tender flesh ripped and she screamed. She needed more energy to heal. But she couldn't take Marilyn's. Eleanor struggled against her own body's need. Just before her restraint broke, Marilyn pulled away.

Like a new fawn, Eleanor wobbled. She clung to a bedpost to keep from falling. Just beyond, on the floor, lay Erick.

Eleanor's throat closed up and her face went numb. The cruel bastard should be scouring the countryside. She choked out, "What is he doing here?" Had he come for her? Gut clenched, she fought the urge to fall on him. If only she had the energy to cast the dark spells that raced through her head.

"Does it matter? Here." Marilyn helped Eleanor into her clothing and somehow evaded direct contact.

But Eleanor couldn't take her eyes off Erick. His chest didn't move. She shouldn't care. She shouldn't hold her breath in wait for his chest to rise. He deserved whatever Marilyn had done to him. "Is he dead?" A sharp pain emptied Eleanor's chest.

With a scowl, Marilyn blurted, "No."

Eleanor inhaled but it didn't mean anything. He wasn't hers. A hard swallow hurt her throat and she looked up to stop tears from flowing.

"It's hard at first to stop caring," Marilyn muttered and donned a coat.

"Where are you going?" Although Marilyn wasn't the demon Erick said she was, icy fear stabbed down Eleanor's back.

"With you. Someone has to teach you the spells to cross the Santarra Mountains." "But I can't go like this."

"You'll heal in the carriage before we reach the mountains. No one will see you." Marilyn shouldered Eleanor's bag. "Let's go, child." Her arm wrapped around Eleanor's waist and guided her toward the door.

Eleanor's shirt rubbed and stuck to her scabbed flesh beneath Marilyn's arm but Eleanor couldn't stand on her own. She needed Marilyn. Could Eleanor trust the woman? Did she have any other choice?

The elven guards sidestepped in front of the door and shook their heads. Shoulders squared, feet spread apart, arms crossed over their chest, they barred exit. Yet no emotion marked their snow-white faces.

"He released me. You heard him. We made a deal," Marilyn argued. Her voice rose to the pitch of helplessness. In a pleading stance, her slender body pitched forward. Her grip tightened around Eleanor's back and she clutched Eleanor's arm like a vice. Just as desperate for escape as Eleanor.

They were the same. Only years separated them.

What had Marilyn traded for freedom? Eleanor glanced back at Erick. It didn't look like he got what he wanted, just what he deserved.