Baz found another slit concealed in the wall and dipped exploratory fingers inside it. Far too much, it reminded him of gliding into his temptress. He yanked out his hand, wiping it on his pant leg.
He frowned. The lumoonlight glistened along the wall, highlighting its unnatural smoothness. “Where are we?”
“Uh, deep inside your grandiose and naughty castle?”
“You’re insufferable. I obviously mean, where in the castle are we, and why? What the fuck did you do? You’re my prisoner.”
“Like I could forget it for a second with this collar constantly suffocating me. Just ’cause you think I’m your prisoner does not mean I’m gonna act like one.”
“Of course not. Why would I expect you to make a single thing easy?”
“You expect me to make things easy for you? Do you really?” She screamed, “You murdered my twin brother, my fucking everything, you fucking son of a fucking bitch!” Even through the wall, her accusation slapped his ears like cymbals. “May Justice pin you down while she sics Misery on you for the rest of your awful life.”
He roared, “For the last fucking time, I. Did. Not. Kill. Your. Brother!”
His shoulders were hunched upward, his nostrils flaring. When only silence answered, he smacked the wall hard with an open palm.
It shuddered and rolled like plump flesh, groaning faintly, as if the protest came from somewhere far away and deep inside. Baz was backing away, each of his steps sinking an inch, when the Rillis rope jerked his wrist, snapping his arm upward. He had only the time to grip the rope so it wouldn’t wrench his shoulder out of its socket before he stumbled forward—and into the wall.
With a stomach-knotting squelch that he’d never, ever forget, no matter how many centuries he lived, the tissue sucked him into its midst. As if it were a gigantic sponge and he an insignificant fleck, it absorbed him. The wall fluttered, pulsing in and out, like inflating then deflating lungs.
His own breathing was choppy and panicked, a fact he’d never admit. Not even in the middle of the bloodiest battles had he given fear free rein. Allowing fear inside was the first step to failure. But this … this … all-encompassing, constricting, slimy … flesh-like tissue that was supposed to be part of a stone-and-mortar castle? This shit wasn’t fucking normal. This kind of shit didn’t even share the same world with “normal.”
Once again, he was yanked forward by the rope. The cool, moist tissue squished his cheeks until his mouth puckered; compressed his shoulders and hips, digging his sword and dagger painfully against his thighs; squeezed even his cock and balls, stealing his breath entirely.
When he eventually emerged from the wall several harrowing lifetimes later, he burst free with a pop, like smacking lips. His knees wobbled, so he locked them tight. He cleared his throat, ran a hand over hair coated in … a dampness he refused to examine too closely, and squared his chest toward his temptress.
There she stood, clutching the offending book to her chest, bathed in the warm glow of her own lumoonlight, since his lumoons were only just then pushing through the wall at his back. A cavern made of the same dark, squelchy tissue dwarfed her, with multiple tunnels snaking away from it.
“So you can produce your own lumoons,” he said, relieved to hear his voice steady and firm. It was the only thing he could think to say as his scattered thoughts assembled. She’d remained in the dark in her cell in the dungeon.
She shook her head, her hair, damp as his was, flicking in thick strands against her face. “No, I can’t, thanks to you.” She flicked her collar. It gave a quiet jangle. “It’s dampening my fae power, remember?”
“Hmph.”
“Hmph? What’s that mean?”
“The collar shouldn’t keep you from making lumoons.”
“And why’s that? You need faithum to create lumoons, and this scorching collar turns off my magic.”
“I’m just, well, surprised, I guess.”
“You guess.”
“I figured the collar would only block the powers unique to you as an individual fae, not the basic ones shared by everyone.”
“You figured wrong.”
“Hmph.”
She tsked and yanked on the rope, just to tug on Baz. He staggered a step closer. “For the love of dragons, will you knock it off already with the fucking humming? You’re making me insane.”
He cocked a brow and a hip. “This is the sane you?”
She threw back her head in affected martyrdom and groaned loudly. When her head snapped down, her eyes blazed like dancing flames.
He put up both hands. The rope, now damp, dangled heavily between them. “Okay, okay. Let’s just figure out how to get out of here.”