Moonlight streamed in the window, illuminating the four walls of the pristine room. The lavish furniture had been returned; if this was a prison cell, at least it was aesthetically pleasing. Bethany stared at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. The white lace dress still clung to her frame, utterly flawless in its fit and appearance. Where were her robes?
A knock at the door disturbed her speculation. Fear oozed out over her skin in a clammy chill, and her mouth grew dry. Someone was here for her. As much as she wanted to hide from the unwanted guest, she knew she had to face her fate sooner or later. Whatever lay in store for her, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of cowering before them.
She flung open the door and gasped. Instead of the heavily armored Templars she'd expected, it was Anders who greeted her. He was dressed in a noble's finery, and the smile that spread across his face warmed her heart with its genuine delight. She stepped aside to let him enter, and he immediately took her into his arms.
Bethany didn't have time to ask why he was there before his mouth closed over hers in an impassioned kiss. She closed her eyes and sank into him, letting him steal her breath with his lustful advance. His body was inviting beneath her inquisitive fingers, and she sought to remove the exquisite fabric that separated her from the intimate touch of his skin.
He moved away from her and ran his hand along the sleeve that encased her arm. Stepping behind her, he found the first of a long line of buttons that descended in a column down her back. The top one was unfastened with painstaking care, followed by the next, and the next….
She was tempted to simply tear the dress off, but he refused to let her go. Their gazes met in the mirror's reflection, and she could only watch as he took his time with his deliberate manipulations. Anders's ardent stare never left hers and she could see the fire that burned hungrily in his deep set eyes.
After what felt like hours, the dress finally slipped off her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor, taking a small step out of the crumpled pile of lace and silk. Her smallclothes were the only remaining obstruction, and they were quickly pushed away.
A pair of strong, gentle hands traversed her exposed skin. Without taking his eyes off her reflection, he brushed her hair aside and ducked his head down. His tongue traced the rim of her ear while he caressed the ample flesh of her breasts, taking their full weight into his grasp. His thumbs mirrored the circular motions, teasing the petal pink buds into hardened peaks.
Bethany never ceased to be amazed at the reactions he could elicit from her. Her cravings for his touch had gone unfulfilled for so long. She was torn between wanting to close her eyes and lose herself to the rush of heat flooding her senses and not wanting to miss out on the visual presentation Anders was providing her. Leaning back, she nestled her head against his shoulder and pressed her body along the length of his. She could feel the outline of his unyielding erection, and her breath caught in her throat.
One of his hands dipped lower, skimming the milky skin of her stomach. She squirmed against him as his fingers skirted the area that was so desperately yearning for his attention, but he held her in place. Her hips jerked forward of their own volition, and she repeated his name in a plaintive murmur. Acquiescing to her urgent request, he slid inside, gliding easily through the slickness of her arousal.
Bethany awoke with a start, gasping for air. The shards of the dream lingered at the edge of her consciousness, and she struggled to hold on to them for as long as possible. Every nerve was set aflame, as if Anders were truly beside her to stoke the embers of their faithful desire. Her heart raced in her chest, and her arms ached to hold the man she loved so much. The pleasurable fantasy slipped away far too soon, and she was left with the disappointing emptiness that haunted her daily.
She glanced to the side and saw that her roommate was still asleep. Taking advantage of the private moment, she let the tears that had sprung to her eyes slide down to her pillow, suppressing the urge to sob openly. How could her mind play such a malicious trick on her? How could her own brain taunt her with thoughts of what simply could not be?
Hope was slipping through her fingers with each passing day, much like the sands on the coast she feared she would never see again. All efforts on the part of the Circle mages did nothing to improve their situation. The future looked bleak, clouded with nothing but assurances of more imposing restrictions and dismal treatment. She wanted to believe that there could be change, that they could veer off the path they were heading down with rapidly increasing speed. It was getting harder and harder to feed the light of faith that still glimmered in the core of her soul. Should she allow it to extinguish, she would fail those who loved her and looked up to her.
Bethany had just swung her feet out of the bed when someone banged on the door. "Just a minute!" she called softly, taking note of the early hour. Ella stirred across the room, but did not wake. Tiptoeing across the floor, she quietly opened the door.
Two Templars waited outside. They wore their full armor, complete with helmets that obscured their faces. "Get dressed," one said gruffly. "The First Enchanter wishes to speak with you."
She nodded wordlessly, and retrieved her robe from where it was hanging. Hastily throwing it on over the thin gown she slept in, she stepped into her shoes and joined them in the hallway. They led her away from her quarters, through the corridors that were devoid of people before sunrise. "Did the First Enchanter say what this meeting was about?" she asked. There was no answer.
Before they reached Orsino's office, one of the guards grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her into a dark passage off the main route. "What are you doing?" Bethany exclaimed. "This isn't –"
A searing pain ripped through her head, causing her to double over. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. Were it not for the stabbing flashes that were encroaching on her limbs, she would have thought that this was another one of her nightmares. The stinging sensations were far too real, and there was no way to escape. No one knew where she was, and no one could save her. She had just enough time to issue a silent prayer to the Maker that Garrett and Anders would learn what happened to her before everything went black.
