Hissing, Hudson tried to bite at his hands.
The man acted worse than a water snake caught by the throat. Enough was enough. With his forehead, Jordan smacked Hudson straight on his temple. A small pain pierced his brow where he hit him, but he tightened his grip on him, then released him to stand.
Hudson staggered back. Blood ran down his chin, and he wore a look of shock on his face. “What have I done?” He glanced from Ferrous and back to Jordan. Hudson’s skin faded back to pink, and the pools around his eyes lightened.
“I am sure you know more about that than us.” Jordan backed away from him and stood next to Ferrous.
Ferrous held the bite mark on his bicep. “What dark magic have you been in contact with, Your Grace?” Ferrous’s brow creased. “I certainly hope my blood does not kill you.”
Hudson glanced around the room. “I am friends with many otherworldly creatures more powerful than you.”
Ferrous nodded. “Indeed.”
“You will be safe here in this room.” Jordan didn’t take his gaze off the duke. “If the blood sickens you, Ferrous and I will figure out a way to deal with you.”
“Until I know what you’ve been exposed to, Your Grace, it will be hard for me to help you in a kind way.”
“I don’t need or want your help. I have all I require. Now release me from this room, or people you care about will die.”
Celeste’s heart hammered in her ears as she wandered back down the corridor. She wrapped her arms tightly about her trembling body. Hudson had attacked her. She walked up to the tapestry with the fluid silver stitching and blue gems.
She reached out her trembling hand. The tactile fabric brushed against her fingertips, and tears welled in her eyes. She shouldn’t be here on this Isle, and she certainly couldn’t just go back to her chamber and wait. Nothing since the moment Jordan had knelt before her had been safe. Please let her words work without Jordan by her side. If she could get in, the walls would protect her. Then she could think. What was the word he’d said?
“Grøn vandagame,” Carmen’s voice echoed. “It means Water Dragon.”
Water Dragon. “Is that what I am?”
“I cannot see how, but at the same time, I cannot see how not.”
She didn’t want this. She wanted love, a family and a peaceful place to call home. All of her life, she had yearned for a normal loving family. Her father provided for the family but never loved her or any of them. Instead, he’d beaten them and scared her.
Her marriage to Hudson promised a similar life.
The only member of her family who loved her was her grandmum. They would sit and talk for hours about everything and nothing. She wanted that with a man.
Jordan promised desire, need and magic. Adoration and long talks were not mentioned from either man.
She was drawn to Jordan in a way she never expected.
Infatuated.
Her stomach fluttered.
More than infatuated, really. She wanted all she dreamed about with him.
If only his attraction to her was about love, not magic and madness.
She would say the magic words anyhow. “Grøn vandagame.” The language slipped past her lips as if she’d spoken it all her life. Tears pushed at the rims of her eyelids. How could this be?
The fabric before her rippled, and a golden glow filled the space once more. She stepped inside, to the room with the pool. There had to be something here that would tell her more about Jordan and reassure her. She swallowed hard.
“What are you looking to find?” Concern filled Carmen’s voice.
“I’m uncertain. I will know when I see it.”
“But what are you hoping for?”
“To take away all the uncertainty.”
“Uncertainty is a constant in life. As soon as it is gone, you are the jest.”
She already was a folly. Nothing she could find here would change that. She walked along the edge of the pool to the far end. In the corner was another smaller alcove she hadn’t noticed the last time. She walked to the arched entrance.
A painting of a beautiful woman hung on the back wall, and on the walls that surrounded her image hung small shelves filled with hundreds of items.
She picked up a leather loop with a small green stone dangling from the center. She ran her finger over the smooth but bumpy nugget. An uncut emerald, perhaps?
The woman with curly black hair in the painting wore the same about her creamy-skinned neck.
She placed the necklace back in its spot.
Next to the emerald lay a lock of red hair, and next to that a faded ribbon.
She turned to the right and on the third shelf down sat…
Her bracelet.
She picked it up. She had not seen this since she woke on the beach. He’d taken it when he bit her. A cold chill raced her spine, and her stomach dropped. She swallowed hard.