“Good dream or bad?” her friend prompted.
“Good,” she responded without hesitation. “Way good. So good that I think my heart might still be racing from it.”
Elesyria’s back straightened and her eyes lit with interest. “Was it Malcolm you dreamed of by any chance? An intimate dream?”
Heat flooded Dani’s face. “I thought I was pretty clear that we weren’t going into details here.”
“The Soul Bonding,” Elesyria whispered, clasping her hands together. “You did not tell me you’d consummated your relationship before Malcolm left.”
“Damn straight I didn’t tell you. And I won’t be telling you anything like that now either.” Dani scooped up a handful of fruit but didn’t eat. “Besides, what makes you think we did? And what’s that Soul Bonding thing you were talking about?”
“I no longer have to think, my dear. I know.” Elesyria chuckled and ran her finger idly around the edge of her goblet. “It’s the ‘Soul Bonding thing,’ as you call it, that tells me, you see. Once you’ve bonded with your SoulMate, your senses function on a different level. I’ve even heard stories about Bonded couples who experience one another’s emotions and some who can communicate by thought over vast distances. Still, Dream Mating is one of the rarest gifts among SoulMates.”
Dream-Mating.Another bizarre experience she could lay at the feet of the Fae.
And since they were sharing . . .
“What about you? Did you ever experience any of those things with your SoulMate?”
“You mistake me, Dani. I’ve never had the good fortune to find my SoulMate. Not in this life, anyway. And let me assure you, this life has been a very long one by your standards.”
“But you have a . . . had a child.”
“Have. Isabella yet lives, just in a different time. You of all people should understand that. And as for my having a child, well”—a wicked little smile curved Elesyria’s lips—“surely you don’t need me to explain to you the mechanics of how that is accomplished.”
“No.” Dani felt the heat returning to her face. “But what about Isabella’s father? You must have loved him.”
“Of course, I did.” Elesyria picked through the bowl, appearing to search for her favorite tidbits. “But love and true love are completely different creatures. Thom was good man and I did love him. But he was not my true love. The paths my SoulMate and I travel have not yet crossed.” She shook her head, as if to clear away bothersome thoughts.
Dani refused the bowl when Elesyria offered again. It wasn’t bad enough she was down here stuffing her face, all but gloating over her own good fortune. Now she’d depressed her friend with all her questions.
“So. We know why I’m here. What’s brought you down to the kitchens in the middle of the night?”
Elesyria’s eyes darted to the bowl in her hand. “Perhaps it’s time we both make another try at sleep.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Fair was fair. “I shared with you even though I didn’t want to. Now it’s your turn.”
Her friend carefully set the bowl on the table, pushing it away from her before looking up to meet Dani’s gaze.
“I cannot escape that which I feel is to come. Whatever evil stalks Malcolm’s path, it has found him this night.”
Dani swallowed, her throat tight and dry. Only moments ago she’d thought to ask for fairness, and fairness was now on evident display. First she’d managed to depress Elesyria with talk of SoulMates and now the Faerie had returned the favor by finding the one thing in the world guaranteed to depress her.
The threat of losing the SoulMate she’d only just found.
Twenty-six
AN UNRELENTING HAZEof pain fogged Malcolm’s mind even as he struggled to open his eyes.
The room spun around him and he blinked, slowly, carefully, trying to determine where he might be. Vaguely, as if in a dream, he remembered a blinding light that, praise Odin, was no longer present. Only the dull flicker of a candle somewhere in the room served to illuminate his surroundings now.
His head lolled forward, his chin resting on his chest, and he breathed through the pain lancing across his shoulders. His arms felt oddly out of kilter, as if some giant attempted to pull them from the sockets where they belonged.
Once again he lifted his head and forced his eyes open.
In the corner lay a pile of blankets and furs, with what looked suspiciously like his pack and saddle tossed upon them. That seemed wrong somehow, though he couldn’t quite remember why it wasn’t possible for his things to be with him.
A wooden door on the far side of the room appeared the only means of entry or exit. At its very top, a small opening was blocked by a thick metal grate. No windows in the room that he could see. Straw covering the floor. Chains hanging from the walls.