Andaer snarled. “NO! I will not have her drunk on that any longer.”

“Then you will lose her.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“She threatened to kill herself if she did not get the Rapture. She needs it; you have your King to thank for that.”

Andaer stared down at the human girl who had claimed his heart the moment he had seen her dance for the first time. She was so graceful, so uninhibited. He knew that she was Triktapic’s Chosen, but he had heard that Trik had discarded her and would not claim her. Andaer counted the assassin a fool to give up such a creature. So he had gone to Lorsan and petitioned the King for the girl. Lorsan had made him swear a blood oath to protect him should Triktapic come for him. Andaer had known Trik a very long time, knew of his fighting ability, his cruelty, and power to bring others to their knees. Still he couldn’t say no because he wanted Cassandra, at any cost.

“Will she always need it?” He asked.

“You have taken that which is not yours. Her soul cries out for another and the only thing that quiets that voice inside her is the red devil—Rapture. She will always need it if you don’t want her to crawl into a hole and wither away, which will still happen, only more slowly if she is smashed on the drink and dead inside.”

“This is not my fault!” Andaer shouted. “Triktapic, the fool, left her. He did not protect her, claim her. He is to blame for this. I only want to care for her.”

“Then take her to him. That would be truly caring for her.”

Andaer shook his head. “I can’t do that,” his voice was a whisper as he brushed Cassandra’s hair from her beautiful face. “I can’t give her up.”

“Then you are just as much as a fool as Trik and you both are causing the girl’s death. You both have stuck a knife in her and are slowly turning it ripping her insides to shreds until her organs will no longer work.”

Cassandra began to stir and Andaer moved closer to her. “Leave us,” he told the she-elf.

She looked one last time at the human before she hurried from the room. Andaer heard stifle d weeping as the door closed behind her.

He leaned down closer to Cassandra as her eyes fluttered open.

“Hi beautiful,” he whispered to her.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“What would you like me to call you?” Andaer couldn’t stop touching her. She was here, in his bed, Bound to him.

“Anything but that.” Cassie tried hard not to shrink from his touch. She began to shake as his hands roamed and though he didn’t touch her anywhere that she hadn’t been touched before, she felt naked before him.

He leaned down and buried his face in her neck. She squeezed her eyes closed and bit back a whimper.

His hand slid up to the tie that held the dress she wore on either shoulder and she felt him pull the strings loose. Cassie tasted blood as she bit harder into her lip. He began to pull the dress down and she could not stop herself any longer. Her hand grabbed the dress and held it in place.

Andaer pulled back and looked down at her. He didn’t look angry, but his brow furrowed at her.

“You are mine and I will have all of you.”

Cassie swallowed hard. “Um, I’ve never, uh, I haven’t been with a man before, or been touched anywhere that would normally cause me to knee a guy in the jewels.” She shivered nervously and watched a slow smile slide across his lips.

“You are pure?” He asked.

“Of course I’m pure, what did you think I was, dirty snow?” She snapped at him, her fear slipping just a little at the surprise in his eyes.

“You dance as one with much more experience,” he told her as he traced her lips with a finger.

“I watch Dancing with the Stars, and I’m a quick study,” she told him as she stalled for time. She looked around the room and saw the small bottle on the table beside the bed. Jackpot, she thought.

“Can I have some of that?” She nodded towards the bottle.

Andaer looked from the bottle to her and the she-elf’s words echoed in his mind. He reached for the bottle and opened it for her. He helped hold her head up so that she could drink the liquid and his eyes were drawn to her throat as he watched it move with each swallow. He leaned down and traced her throat with the tip of his tongue and he heard her moan. He smiled against her skin and took the sound as submission. His hand wondered up to the dress and just as it would have exposed her smooth, untouched skin he heard a voice and he froze.

~

Trik knew that only the protection of the Forest Lords had gotten him inside the Dark King’s castle. Once inside he had opened himself and allowed his soul to seek out their Chosen. He made it to the room where he had heard her voice. He tried the door handle and it was locked. Just as he was about to kick it in, a little she-elf came around the corner. She squeaked in surprise and then her face lit up.

“Praise the Forest Lords, you’re here,” she told him as she hurried to the door. She pulled out a key and slipped it into the lock and turned it quietly.

“You must get in there. Lorsan has already bound her to him with a blood sacrifice and now he plans to consummate it.”

Trik felt his blood begin to boil but he knew that he had to keep his calm. He had centuries of experience masking his true emotions. He drew on this experience and cloaked himself in the cold sensation.

“Thank you,” he told the woman.

She clucked her tongue at him and pushed him forward. “Quit thanking me and go save your Chosen.”