The Azimar Archives Book One- The Book of Death

Nevina

Nevina dreamed of Areanath, as she often did. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. The warmth of his bed felt so real, so relaxing to her tired and worn body. His lips found her neck, and she let out a contented sigh.

Our last night together. This is what I'm dreaming of.

"Areanath..." she breathed, opening her eyes. "I've missed you." The surroundings were familiar. They were in Areanath's rooms, just as she remembered them. A little colder, perhaps, but still the same.

Areanath said nothing, only continued to kiss the hollow where her neck met her jaw.

Nevina stretched, feeling the warmth of him against her. He was naked, she could feel him hard against her as she pressed close.

"Still not finished with your work?" She asked with a tired yawn. "Do you need my help again?"

Areanath's lips stopped moving, and Nevina tousled her hair with one hand, the weight of the metal cuff heavy on her wrist.

Nevina froze, staring at the circle of metal on her arm. The warm weight pressing against her suddenly felt hostile and strange.

"You helped my brother with his curse?" Mothlenor asked quietly, mouth against her ear.

Nevina leapt from the bed, pulling the covers after her and wrapping them around her body. "Great Ones take you, Mothlenor," she cursed, pressing herself to the adjacent wall. "I've had enough of your games!"

Mothlenor sat in Areanath's bed, one of the pillows Nevina had so often laid her head against draped over his lap. "I only brought you here to see if you had considered my proposal, but you've already said more than I hoped you would." He stood, reaching for a robe on a nearby chair.

Nevina looked away, cursing him again under her breath. "I refuse your offer," she muttered, "and ask that you leave me in my cell to die."

"You refuse?" Mothlenor sounded surprised. His feet were still bare, and he padded softly over to where she stood motionless. "You've lost another girl in the last week." His brows knitted together as he looked her over. "You only have one Coven girl left. And you would let her die, and refuse my offer?"

Nevina thought briefly of Layle's attempts to learn the spell Nevina had taught her. "She would do the same, if our roles were reversed."

"Do you truly find me that revolting?"

"Yes." Nevina's voice was flat and quiet.

Mothlenor's eyes darkened, and he stepped away from her, once more sitting on the bed. He looked her over again, his gaze more calculating than lustful. "You helped my brother with his curse. Tell me how it worked."

"I don't know." Nevina's eyes flitted to the door on the far side of the bedroom, and to the study beyond, where a second door led out to the hall. If I can reach it before he does, perhaps I can flee into the castle. The idea was ridiculous, there was bound to be a guard just outside the study door, but it was her only chance.

"You just said—"

"I know what I said," Nevina growled, angry with herself. She should have realized that everything felt too real to be a dream.

Mothlenor studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "You didn't lend him your knowledge. You lent him your power." He sneered up at her. "Your Gift."

Nevina said nothing. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. He looked too much like Areanath, in his brother's robe, in his brother's rooms. Nevina felt a lump form in her throat at the thought.