Chapter 205

Chapter 205: Chapter 205

Lysander’s pov

The freezing mist clung to my skin like a wet shroud.

Every breath pulled cold, damp mountain air deep into my burning lungs. I stumbled through the thick pine undergrowth, my bare feet bleeding, bruised, and completely numb from the jagged rocks and hidden briars buried beneath the wet leaf-litter.

My clothes was torn at the shoulders, soaked through with rainwater and mud, offering zero defense against the biting wind whipping down the valley.

I pressed one hand firmly over my stomach, holding my lower middle as if my palm could shield the tiny, fragile pulse of life inside from the harsh wilderness.

"Just a little farther," I gasped into the quiet dark, my voice a broken, raspy whisper that barely carried past my lips. "Just... over the ridge..."

My instincts tried to push my limbs forward, but my body was betraying me. The rapid strain of the pregnancy, combined with the sheer, agonizing toll of snapping Gideon’s mind-spell and running for hours without rest, was draining the last reserves of my core. My knees wobbled violently with every step. My vision swam, dark gray spots fluttering across the edges of my sight.

I reached out, clutching the rough, cold bark of an ancient spruce tree to keep from collapsing onto the mud.

The valley border was just ahead. Past the tree line lay the open gray stones of the riverbed—the boundary line marking the edge of Gideon’s domain. If I could cross the water, if I could reach the neutral trade path, the territorial wards of Drake’s scouts might catch my scent.

Drake, my mind whimpered, my soul straining toward the thin, distant thread of our bond. Drake, please... I’m so close...

Then, the wind shifted.

The rustle of wet pine needles was suddenly swallowed by a sound that made every drop of blood in my veins run ice-cold.

The low, guttural baying of hunting hounds echoed through the ravine behind me.

My heart slammed into my throat like a trapped war-drum. I whipped my head around, my dark eyes widening in pure, breathless horror as dark shadows flickered between the mist-shrouded tree trunks fifty yards up the slope. Torchlight cut through the gray fog, throwing long, terrifying shapes across the forest floor.

"Over here!" a sharp, commanding voice shouted from the ridge above. "The track leads down toward the riverbed! Move!"

"Run!" I screamed inside my head, forcing my trembling legs to detach from the tree trunk.

I threw myself forward, stumbling down the steep, muddy incline toward the open riverbed. My bare foot caught on a slippery stone, and I went down hard, my shoulder slamming into the wet gravel. Pain exploded across my collarbone, knocking the breath straight out of my chest.

I scrambled onto my hands and knees, ignoring the sharp rocks cutting into my palms, trying desperately to drag myself toward the rushing water just twenty feet away.

Just ten more feet. Just reach the water—

A heavy, iron-shod boot slammed down onto my calf, pinning my leg flat against the muddy stone.

I let out a ragged gasp of pain, turning onto my back and kicking wildly with my free foot. "Get off me! Don’t touch me!"

Before I could strike, three heavy-set guards in dark, reinforced leather armor swarmed over me. One man grabbed my wrist, twisting my arm violently behind my back, while another pressed his knee directly into the center of my spine, holding my upper body pinned flat against the freezing gravel.

"Got him!" the lead guard yelled, pulling a set of heavy, silver-plated suppression chains from his belt. "He’s completely spent!"

"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing my hips, biting and clawing at the muddy hands holding me down. "Get your hands off me! Drake will kill you! He will tear this whole valley apart!"

"He thinks you ran off with Gideon, boy," the guard holding my arm sneered, slapping the heavy silver cuffs around my wrists with a brutal, metallic CLACK.

The moment the suppression silver locked around my wrists, a wave of dark, artificial cold flooded my nervous system. The faint, warm thrum of my magic was instantly crushed under the weight of the iron. My muscles went entirely limp, my vision tilting wildly as all the strength drained out of my limbs in a single, terrifying second.

They dragged me up by my arms, lifting my limp frame off the cold stones of the riverbed.

I hung suspended between the two guards, my toes dragging uselessly through the mud, my chin resting heavily against my chest. Cold iron chains wrapped tightly around my wrists, my ankles, and my waist, binding me so tightly I could barely draw a full breath.

Gideon stepped out from the treeline, stepping onto the riverbed with calm, unhurried strides. He was wrapped in a thick wool cloak, his sharp, aristocratic face set in an expression of cold, utter annoyance. He walked straight up to me, reaching out a pale hand to grab my hair, tilting my face back so I was forced to look into his dark eyes.

"You caused a great deal of trouble tonight, Lysander," Gideon murmured softly, his voice devoid of any warmth or mercy. "You bruised three of my men and ruined a very expensive tonic."

I gathered the last bit of moisture in my dry, raspy throat and spat straight at his face.

Gideon didn’t flinch. He wiped his cheek with the edge of his silk sleeve, his eyes narrowing into two razor-thin slits of dangerous, quiet fury.

"Drag him back to the fortress," Gideon commanded his men, turning his back on me and walking toward the trail. "Put him in the lower cellar cell this time—the one beneath the stone foundations where the wards are twice as thick. And lock his hands to the wall."

"No!" I rasped out, thrashing weakly against the iron chains as the guards dragged me backward away from the riverbed, away from the border, and back toward the dark mountain fortress. "No! Drake! Drake!"

My broken cries were swallowed completely by the roaring mountain wind and the low, heavy baying of the hounds as the darkness dragged me back under.