A Night To Remember

The night passed in a blur.

Anatolia could only remember fragments of it.Tthe warmth of his skin pressed against hers, the way his hands felt tracing her curves.

She remembered the rasp of his voice as he groaned her name, and most importantly, she remembered the way Rhenar's desire was wrapped around her, pushing against Harolin's resolve, protective and possessive.

For the first time in her life, she didn't feel alone.

And she hated herself for feeling that way.

By morning, the effects of the bond had subsided.

Anatolia woke up in Harolin's bed, her body sore all over, and her mind trying to make sense of the situation.

Her clothes were scattered all across the floor, and the bedroom was a mess. They had overturned the furniture and curtains, and the fire had blazed all night.

And, to her utmost horror, Harolin Draycott was sleeping right beside her.

She stared at him fully, at his silver hair and his perfect jaw. His eyes were closed, those golden eyes not staring at her as usual, and he looked peaceful, almost like a human.

Then she reminded herself that he was still a monster.

She still had a battle to win.

Her hand shot out, grabbing her silver dagger from the bedside table and lunging at him.

Harolin caught her wrist before the blade could reach his throat.

"Really?" he said, his voice deep with sleep. "Again?"

"Let go of me!" Anatolia snarled.

"I don't think so," he said, still holding her wrist, and stared at her with those infuriating golden eyes. "We need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is." Harolin's grip tightened. "You cast a curse on me and bound our souls together, and then we spent the night---"

Anatolia's face cracked, and her eyes shot wide. She didn't want to think about it.

"Don't you dare!"

Harolin didn't continue. He loosened his grip on her wrist, and she pulled it free, stumbling off the bed, only to realize she was naked and completely vulnerable.

She resisted the urge to drive the sword through her own heart out of frustration. She grabbed the first thing she could find, which was his tunic that had been discarded on the floor, and pulled it over her frame.

"This doesn't change anything," she said. "I'm still going to kill you."

"You can't, because you casted this stupid curse."

"Trust me, I will find a way."

She closed her eyes and began reaching deep inside herself, searching for the second spell she had hidden there.

The forbidden ritual she had kept in case the Widow's Oath went wrong.

And it had.

This ritual could sever any magical bond, including the mating bond.

She found it and whispered the words to activate it. Its effect was instant. Pain shot through her chest, and Anatolia gasped, her vision going white.

And then her heart just…stopped.

Harolin was on his feet before she could hit the ground.

"Anatolia!"

He caught her and lowered her gently to the ground, his hands checking for a pulse.

But there wasn't any.

"Jemisha!" he roared, his voice thundering through every corner of the castle. "JEMISHA!"

The healer burst through the door on command.

"Your Majesty, what happened?"

"She activated another spell." Harolin's eyes were wide with horror. "Her heart stopped."

Jemisha dropped to her knees beside them, her hands sprouting with healing magic.

"I will need your blood now."

Harolin didn't hesitate for a second. His teeth grew sharper, and he bit into his own wrist before pressing the wound to Anatolia's lips, letting his royal blood flow into her mouth.

"Come on," he muttered. "Come on, don't you dare die on me."

For a long moment, nothing happened then Anatolia gasped, snapping back to life.

Her heart started beating again, slowly at first, before it picked up its pace. Her eyes fluttered open, confused.

Harolin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"She's alive, but the second spell has damaged her soul, and she's about to fall into a deep slumber," Jemisha said. "It's one of the consequences of severing the Widow's Oath. I don't know when or if she will wake."

Harolin stared down at Anatolia. Her eyes had closed again, and her breathing was shallow. She looked to be sleeping.

"For how long?"

"I can't say, Your Majesty. Days, months, or even years."

Harolin's hands clenched into fists, his eyes blazing with rage.

"Then find a way to wake her up!"

Jemisha hesitated. Then she peered back at Anatolia, raising her hand towards her chest before moving it down to her belly, and her expression changed.

"Your Majesty," she said slowly and gravely, "there is something else."

"What?"

Jemisha turned to meet his eyes.

"Anatolia is pregnant."