Trent shuddered under my grip. The music in his mind faltered, the rushing sound of the line in mine grew loud as Bis’s tail tightened. “I am yours,” Trent gasped through clenched teeth, and my hand sprang from him, thinking I was betrayed. Trent fell to a knee, looking up at me, pleading. “I. Am. Yours. Claim me, Rachel! Damn your morals and claim me!”

Breath held, I spun to look at Ku’Sox, my hand falling to touch Trent’s shoulder. “Mine!” I shouted, feeling Bis’s weight light on my shoulder and the slave rings burn between us. I fastened on the wild music, remembering the rings’ creation, the ugly promise of domination they held, and I claimed it. Black filth roared in as the rings found their purpose and came truly alive—smut for this ancient magic of stream and wood, song and deviltry. “He’s mine!” I shouted again, and Trent’s head snapped up, his eyes wild as my will dominated him.

Fear slid through me, but the music had grown stronger, not less, and Trent panted, blood leaking from his nose. I didn’t know if I had him or not. “You’re bleeding,” I said, wiping it away with my scarf. His eyes met mine at the soft touch, and a chime seemed to shake the ley line, realigning the universe.

He was mine.

“No!” Ku’Sox raged, hammering on our bubble.

Trent was mine, and scared out of my socks, I extended a hand to help him rise. I was responsible for him, and I didn’t want to be. Was this what Trent felt for his people? He was stronger than I.

“You can back off now,” he panted, and I hastily lifted my domination from his thoughts until Trent sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“Sorry.”

“You will not take him from me!” Ku’Sox raged. “I will eat all that you hold dear, I will swallow the sun. I will burn the moon!”

Making a pair of horns with his pinkie and thumb, Trent showed Ku’Sox the back of his hand.

Ku’Sox’s eyes widened at the ancient elven insult. With a cry of outrage, he slammed his foot into our circle, bouncing back and screaming when it repelled him with a burst of ozone-tainted energy. “Mine!” he screamed like child in a tantrum.

“Not anymore,” I whispered, wondering if we should jump out. We were kind of stuck in this circle. The half-moon was rising. If I remembered right, it would be almost straight overhead at sunrise. We had hours to finish this, or Newt would kill me herself.

“Perhaps we should circle him?” Trent suggested, and I wiped my palms on my pants.

“Good idea,” I said, wanting to leave our circle as much as I’d want to jump into a bath of ice. “Pound him into the earth. It’s elven charms he doesn’t know. After you.”