The last thing Marian saw before her vision blurred was the fear on the face of the Warlord in front of her. Then a wave of freezing black rage washed over her, pulling her under. She thought she heard muted screams of agony and terror, then the sounds were gone. Everything was gone . . .

... until she felt a hand close over hers, felt power that wasn’t hers flowing into her. She forced her eyes open and stared at the golden-haired, sapphire-eyed woman kneeling beside her. Stared at the Black Jewel that hung from a chain around the woman’s neck.

“You’re the Queen,” Marian said, barely able to draw enough breath to shape the words.

“Yes, I’m the Queen,” the woman replied.

“I don’t want to die.”

“Then don’t.” The woman placed her other hand on Marian’s forehead.

The dark power closed in around her again, but it was warm now, gentle, a cocoon of soft blankets. Power not her own kept her heart beating, kept her lungs moving.

Her last thought before she surrendered to it was, I’ve seen the Queen of Ebon Askavi.

As soon as Saetan stepped through the Gate, he knew Jaenelle wasn’t in the Keep in Terreille. A moment later, when her psychic scent flooded the corridors, he knew she’d returned—and the control on his temper frayed a bit more.

That she was his Queen didn’t matter. That her power eclipsed his didn’t matter. By the time he was done explaining things, his Lady would be in no doubt about how her Steward felt about her entering Terreille, which was the enemy’s territory, without even one escort going with her.

Then he stepped out of the room that held the Dark Altar and saw her moving toward him, one hand under the blankets wrapped around . . .

He smelled the blood, noted the dangerous, feral look in Jaenelle’s eyes, and felt the heat of his temper chill to cold rage as he rose to the killing edge.

Jaenelle stopped in front of him. She said nothing while he carefully pulled aside a part of the blankets and looked at the young Eyrien woman, while he studied the torn clothing and the slices in her skin that still seeped blood despite the healing web he sensed Jaenelle weaving around her.

“Why?” he asked.

Jaenelle turned her head. “Ask them.”