2/24/18 Author's Note: I've made some significant revisions to this chapter from its initial, published form. You may notice that the word count jumped from about 3,500 words to nearly 8,000...so yeah, I'd consider that pretty significant. I added in two new POV segments- one from Fawne and one from Meredith- and added a lot of other material that wasn't here before. So if you've already read it once, it might be worthwhile to read it again.

1/Terreille

The witch was still trying to edge away from him. Alex couldn't blame her. If she'd heard stories of him, she'd likely assume he'd meant that as a threat. In another time and place, it might have been; this time it wasn't. He didn't want to hurt her, knowing full well that she was already in pain. From what Grael told him, the witch had been force-fed a large dose of safframate. By now its effects had to be excruciating to the point of madness.

Alex knew exactly what the drug could do to a person. After all, he had been dosed with it most of his life. Hated it. Hated that anyone could ever inflict that sort of torment on someone else. For that reason, he was motivated to find some way to help. Question was- how did he make her understand that? At the moment, the witch was glaring at him through narrow eyes.

"And what- you thought you'd take his place?" She shook her head. "Not ever, Prince. I'll make you kill me first."

She meant it. Alex could see by the set of her chin that she was serious. He should have been relieved that he'd finally met a witch who didn't expect- much less want- him to bed her. But he wasn't. He was insulted. Hell's fire, what was the matter with him?

"That wasn't what I had in mind," he assured her.

"Doesn't matter. You can forget it- whatever it is."

He paused at the vehemence in her voice. For his first attempt at rescuing a witch, this was not going well. Granted, he hadn't expected it to be easy, but her outright refusal to even listen to reason was throwing him off-stride. This was not the time for a debate. They couldn't be here when the coven bitches discovered that their plans had gone awry.

Or at least she couldn't. Unlike him, the witch would have no defense against Meredith's retaliation. Not while she was fighting the safframate. Far better if she could find a place to lie low until it subsided. That might be somewhat difficult, given that Meredith wore the Gray. Hardly anywhere in the hall where she couldn't find the witch. Alex reluctantly thought of the one place she could hide.

"The dose they gave you- it will last at least until tomorrow. Maybe longer."

"Yeah, so?"

"I have a suite not far away. No one would come there looking for you." Unless they had a death wish, he added silently to himself. "It'd be a safe place to wait for this to wear off."

"Thanks, but I'm better off here."

"They'll send someone else once the Queens realize their pet is dead. It's not safe to stay here."

"Your alternative isn't much safer."

"Look, I'm not interested in you that way," he said, exasperated.

"I can take care of myself, Prince."

Damn she was stubborn. And that stubbornness was going to get her into trouble- if not killed. It was already causing Alex more of a headache than he bargained for. He ought to just let the matter drop and leave her here to face whatever fate she had coming. But he couldn't. Nor could he seem to convince her to go with him, which made for quite the conundrum.

Of course, he had the means to end this argument if he really wanted to. If he gave rein to the side of his nature that Alex used to seduce countless witches before her. The safframate would make it even easier. In less than a minute, she would be begging him to take her to his suite. But he couldn't bring himself to do that, either. It only reminded him of the things he'd done in the past, and what he'd almost done tonight.

Which only left him to make use of another avenue: Jewels. Just as effective, and without the need for playing games. He openly wore the Red as a constant reminder that he outranked them. And so the coven understood that unless they were in a position to punish him, he called the shots. Perhaps the witch was too distracted in her condition to recognize that he had her at a disadvantage; he made a point to call attention to it with the intent to end the argument.

"You seem to think you have a say in this." Alex allowed the Jewel in the pendant around his neck to glow with the reservoir of power within. "You don't."

She growled under her breath, "Snarly, pushy male."

"I beg your pardon?"

"What can it possibly matter to you where I wait out the night?"

Damned if he knew. He'd done what he set out to do, having freed her from the clutches of Grael. What happened to her next shouldn't really concern him. If she wanted to spurn his offer in favor of a plan Alex was sure was nothing short of suicide, that was her business. Not his concern at all. He didn't need to take on her problems when he had enough of his own.

But even as he followed that completely logical line of thought, Alex told her, "It just does."

"I'm out of here."

She made a move to dash past him, but Alex's reflexes were faster. He grabbed her wrist and refused to let go. Fed up with the argument, he resorted to one final option. Brute force wasn't exactly his style, but she'd given him little choice.

"I think not, witch. You'll end up dead or worse if you don't do as I say. Now keep quiet and follow me."

Mercifully, she obeyed his command as they threaded through empty hallways. Alex felt the tremors coursing through her. Could be the safframate, but he suspected it had more to do with the fact that he was a Warlord Prince and she was going to be trapped alone with him. A terrifying prospect for someone in her condition.

Most times, he'd revel in a witch's fear of him. No game pleased him more than evoking terror out of the coven bitches. They tortured him and used him. But they all feared him. Alex glanced at the witch trudging reluctantly at his heels. The bitches who liked to torture him had planned to do the same thing to her. He didn't know why, but it made this witch different. She wasn't one of them.

No, it did not make him happy that she feared him.

Tension built the longer they walked. At any moment, he expected Meredith to appear. Surely she'd sensed with her controlling ring that he'd tapped into his Jewels to create the Red shield. That alone should have brought her into this part of the hall to investigate what he was up to. Thank the Darkness, their luck held and they met no one on the way to his suite.

Alex unlocked the door and stepped aside as he ordered, "In you go."

"This really isn't…"

2/Terreille

Fawne didn't look behind her to see if the Prince was pursuing them. She hardly looked where she was even going, focused solely on getting as far away as fast as she could. The whole time, her body trembled and shook with a palsy of nerves, nearly causing her to trip over her feet twice. Beside her, Kareal wasn't doing much better. Neither of them had been in the same room with DeSade before, let alone spoken directly with him. After what nearly happened to them tonight, she hoped never to repeat the experience.

Finally, she felt they'd gone far enough to slow down. The servants' corridor and DeSade were well behind them. If he hadn't caught up to them by now, he had no interest in making good on his threats. Or at least that's what she would tell herself. Fawne knew full well that he could change his mind any time- maybe months from now, even- and they wouldn't see it coming until it was too late. For the time being, though, the Prince must have been more interested in Grael's prize.

May the Darkness have mercy on her.

Fawne hadn't known the witch very well. Not at all, really. Not even her name. She'd arrived a few months ago, but had kept mostly to herself when she wasn't in the kitchens. Meant her daily routine had little to do with Fawne's, which was spent overseeing the personal maids and upkeep of the hall. They'd only recently crossed paths a week ago, when she'd heard the witch talking about breaking away from Meredith and the coven. Like many others, Fawne had quickly found an excuse to be elsewhere; she didn't want any whispers getting around that she was part of any plan to rebel.

Still, she wouldn't wish Grael- or DeSade- on the witch. Whoever she might have been.

"That was close," Kareal panted, slightly out of breath. "Far too close for my liking."

"Mine, too."

"What do you suppose he was doing in the servant wing?"

Several ideas came to mind; none of them were pleasant to think about. Fawne couldn't bring herself to say any of them aloud, and so she answered with a shrug, "I honestly don't know, Kareal. Quite frankly, I'd rather not know why he was there."

A bloodcurdling scream erupted through the corridor, raising the hairs on her arms. She caught her friend's wide-eyed stare, sure she looked no less frightened. No mistake, the Prince had everything to do with that horrendous cry. How far had it carried? All the way to Meredith's audience room? Fawne hoped not, for it would bring the Queen down on all of them. And then as quickly as it had been broken, silence fell once more.

"Who do you think it was?" No way of telling. The cry could have been the witch, but it could have been Grael just as easily. "I hope it was Grael. That wretch deserves whatever he gets."

Fawne didn't deny that she wouldn't be sorry if DeSade killed the Queen's favorite pet. Trouble was, Meredith always had more ready to take his place. Males eager to do whatever it took to gain some level of privilege for themselves. Or ones who just wanted the excuse to hurt other people- witches especially. She'd met plenty of their kind in the two decades she'd been working in the hall.

All the better that I managed to get Gillean away from Draega when I did. She's far safer in one of the towns on the Askavi border.

Still, she missed her younger sister. They hadn't seen or spoken to one another since Fawn bribed a family headed towards Kethal to smuggle Gillean out of Draega, too. She'd paid for that bribe out of the first marks she received for her work here. Not her first choice, but beyond Meredith's court, Draega offered few ways to make a living for witches like her. It was the only opportunity that paid enough to get Gillean out of the city. Fawne considered the sacrifice worth it.

Just have to hope she is all right and that one day we'll see each other again.

"I suppose we'll find out tomorrow," Fawne answered at last. With a glance around to get her bearings, she suggested, "Did you still want me to talk to Paeter?"

"If you think he wouldn't mind."

"Not at all. C'mon. We'll go now and hope he's in his room."

The corridors were eerily empty, but they made the trip in silence. A matter of caution and self-preservation. Just because they didn't see anyone didn't mean no one was around. Didn't need to learn that lesson more than once. She was glad when they arrived at their destination without attracting any unwanted attention.

Paeter's room was at the end of the hallway designated for pleasure slaves. Fawne stopped in front of it and cast a look sideways at Kareal. The witch nodded, so she knocked softly on the door. A few minutes passed before she heard footsteps on the other side. The handle turned and Paeter appeared in the door frame, clearly surprised to see her. He packed down the hall, checking to be sure no one else was around. That's when he noticed Kareal.

"Fawne?" He frowned. "You really shouldn't be wandering around the hall tonight. It's not safe."

"I know." Boy do I know. "But it's not safe in the servant wing, either. That why we're here."

3/Terreille

"I said- in you go."

Only when she crossed the thresh hold and he'd closed the door behind them did Alex feel any relief. That was the hardest part done. He put a Red lock and shield on the door and turned to face the witch now under his charge. She looked…vulnerable, standing uncertainly in the middle of the room. He had no idea how to put her at ease. Hell's fire, he'd never had a witch in his suite before, so what was he supposed to do?

Maybe start with something simple- like names.

"We didn't really introduce ourselves," he said finally. "I haven't seen you before, so I didn't catch your name."

She fiddled with the cuffs of her dress and glanced around the room. It took her a few minutes to focus enough to answer him.

"Lilith."

"Just Lilith?"

"Morgan." She added as she began to pace. "And you're Prince Alexander DeSade."

Now what? That killed all of two minutes, but now Alex could think of nothing to say. Oh he knew what he would have said if this were one of the games he played with the bitch Queens and their covens. The sharp barbs; the tantalizing innuendos meant to lure them into his vicious traps. All of that came second nature to him. But Alex admitted he was lost when it came to just talking with a witch.

So he slipped his hands in his trouser pockets and watched her pace the room. She ignored him, or at least was doing a credible job of trying. Alex noted that her shoulders twitched at the constant brush of her clothes. Rather, her whole body did. It had to be torture. Safframate over sensitized the skin to the point even the slightest touch brought with it painful discomfort.

"You shouldn't wear that."

"What?"

"Those clothes. Don't you have something less…" the words died on his lips under her dark glare. He tried again. "I'm just saying that you'd feel better if you weren't wearing all of that."

"Nothing I have is going to be any better than what I've got on."

Swapping out one set of clothes for another wasn't really what he'd been suggesting. If she truly meant to get any relief, best do to without clothes at all. But as she clearly wasn't going to go for that idea, Alex considered how else they might solve the dilemma. At last, he thought he hit upon a reasonable solution.

"I might have something."

"Something like what?"

With a sigh, Alex slid by her to fetch a plain dress shirt from his wardrobe. It would be long enough that she wouldn't have to wear anything else, and loose enough to provide at least some relief. Lilith had resumed pacing by the time he returned. As her current circuit brought her within a few feet of him, Alex held out the garment to her.

"Here."

She caught it in both hands and looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I can't wear your clothes. It's…it's…" she sputtered and then bit her lip, still staring at the shirt. "It's not proper."

"So you'd rather be driven insane in that dress? You think I don't know what it's like, but I do. I know all about it."

She blushed bright red and started pacing again. Alex figured she must not have had too many lovers, or maybe she'd be less embarrassed at the thought of wearing a man's shirt. He kept that opinion to himself. For a time, he merely watched and wondered what to do. Lilith kept glancing down, until finally she sighed.

"I suppose I could try it."

"Now you're talking sense."

He expected that having made her decision, Lilith would change into the shirt. She didn't. Lilith just stared at him with an odd look on her face. What was she waiting for? It's not like he cared what he saw- he'd seen hundreds of witches in his lifetime. Nor did he expect that she would care what he thought, anyway. She hadn't cared about anything else up to this point.

"What's the matter?"

"Can't you go somewhere else while I do this?"

"What?"

"I would rather prefer it if you weren't…watching."

Apparently, it did matter to her. Incredulous, Alex scoffed lightly, "You can't seriously be that much of a prude."

Lilith didn't take too kindly to his tone. She stomped her foot and ground her teeth.

"May the Darkness be merciful and grant me patience. What's so wrong with wanting a little privacy?"

"Fine," Alex capitulated. It made no difference to him either way. "I'll go in the other room."

"Thank you, Prince."

4/Terreille

Meredith, Queen of Hayll, surveyed the group of witches before her with smug satisfaction. She had risen to assume control of Draega nearly seven hundred years ago, and had been consolidating her power in the centuries since. For now she ruled the entire Territory; one day, she planned to expand that to include the entire realm. And beyond. One day it would all be hers.

In the meantime, she contented herself with basking in the authority she held over Hayll- and over her court in particular. She could do anything she liked with them for no reason other than their lives belonged to her. From time to time, Meredith conducted a demonstration to remind the witches of that fact. Tonight had been one of those times, although not one she'd planned.

No, certainly not planned. But after her closest advisor, Valinna, caught one of the kitchen maids red-handed with a half-dozen controlling rings from the store room, dealing with her became the top priority for the evening. How dare she steal from a Queen. From the Queen. If she had found that scheming little bitch, Meredith would have destroyed her on the spot; the Black Widow had other ideas.

Valinna insisted upon interrogating the witch to find out why she'd stolen the rings in the first place. That was classic Valinna. She always wanted to dig into the why. Meredith really didn't care, but when the Black Widow suggested they conduct the interview in front of the whole court, she was more than happy to agree. Let them watch Valinna pick apart the witch and tear down all her inner barriers. Let them remember that it could be them.

Except the bitch didn't break. No matter what tactic the Black Widow used, she couldn't find a crack to pry open. Not even enough to force her to tell them her name and Jewels. Meredith almost deemed the whole demonstration a disaster until she hit upon the idea to dose the witch with safframate and give her to Grael. Until now, she'd only used the drug on blood males, but thought maybe this would give them the leverage they wanted. At two spoonfuls, the safframate would have been enough to shred the bitch's mind. Grael was merely petty revenge for having wasted Meredith's time.

This time tomorrow, Valinna would have the opportunity to learn anything and everything she wanted to know. But what to do with the others…

*Were you planning to keep the coven here all evening?*

Meredith's outward expression didn't change, but she rolled her eyes inwardly at the tone in Valinna's private thread. Just like the Black Widow to raise the point just as the subject crossed her own mind. Occasionally, she swore the witch had been reading her thoughts to have timed her inquiries with such uncanny precision. A ridiculous notion, given that Valinna wore the Red and Meredith the Gray. No one was getting past her barriers.

She allowed herself a leisurely minute or two before sending a reply.

*I'll keep them however long I please*

*I didn't say you couldn't. I'm just curious why you're so eager to be penned in with a dozen witches in a room not truly designed to hold more than four*

The witch had a point. While the main chamber of her suite was quite large, the space felt cramped with the entire court packed into it. Not to mention that witches weren't the sort of company she tended to invite here in the evenings.

*If you must know, I was about to release them to their own devices*

*About that,* Valinna interjected quickly. *I think it best to keep them away from the blood males*

*Whatever for?*

*I still don't know why the Warlord's Ring failed earlier today. Until I do, it's not worth the risk- for anyone*

Those last two words implied that she meant Meredith should follow suit. That would not do at all. She'd intended to make use of one of her newest arrivals to work off some pent up frustration. Besides, a Queen wearing the Gray had no cause to worry about a light-jeweled Warlord. But the warning look in the Black Widow's eye told her that Valinna would be resolute on this matter. So while it irked her to spend the night without entertainment, Meredith resigned herself to following the witch's advice; it had never steered her wrong before.

*And this precaution is absolutely necessary?*

*Yes*

*Oh all right, then*

"Well, ladies," she addressed them sharply. "I hope you all found this evening as informative as I did. And let it be a lesson to you about what happens to any witch who takes what rightfully belongs to me."

No words at all, just subdued nodding.

"Excellent. Then I give you permission to pursue your own interests for the remainder of the evening." The inner circle witches moved first, drifting towards the door. Just as they reached it, Meredith called out. "Oh, I ought to mention one last thing- the blood males are off-limits tonight."

Kaeremi and Idrina complained the loudest at that, but even their protests were barely more than a grumble of mild annoyance. Meredith ignored them, turning her attention to the two witches on her left, who were whispering to one another. Ettia and her cousin, Bethaeny. No doubt the latter was disappointed to have her plans cancelled. The witch had likely been hoping to spend her evening with DeSade as originally promised.

If that imbecile truly knew what that one would do to her, she wouldn't be so put out.

Meredith didn't usually allow the lower circle witches the use of her greatest prize, but after what happened to the last first circle witch who'd tried to enjoy the Prince…well, she couldn't afford to lose anyone who mattered. For three months, she hadn't allowed him to service anyone. The decision had not been a popular one with the court, and Meredith was tired of listening to their petitions to reconsider. The simple farm-bred klutz was a perfect test to see if DeSade was willing to be reasonable. If not…well, she wasn't losing much.

While she'd been thinking, Meredith was dimly aware of a commotion at the opposite end of the room. She drew her attention back to her surroundings, spotting the source of the upset. Larkin and Othar. Two of her most dependable tools after Grael. Their primary job was to keep the pleasure slaves in line when they weren't servicing the coven. But they performed other random tasks for her as well. From time to time, she gave them a witch from her staff to play with.

Bribes to keep them in line.

What were they doing here, though? She was about to order Chenoa to discipline them through her controlling rings, but something in their demeanors held her back. Both men seemed rattled. Unusual for them. Unusual enough that she allowed them to approach. Still, Meredith let them know she was displeased.

"You'd better have a good reason for interrupting."

"We surely do," Larkin insisted.

Raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the lack of deference in his tone, she bade him warningly, "Well, let's hear it, then."

"Grael is dead."

The words didn't register at first. When they did, Meredith found herself unable to credit them as true. Grael couldn't be dead. Not at the hands of some nobody witch- especially one dosed with safframate as heavily as this one had had been. She must have heard wrong.

"That can't possibly be."

"I'm telling you it is. We saw the body ourselves."

"Or rather what was left of it," Othar muttered ominously. "Which wasn't much."

Both men's expressions were quite earnest, despite Meredith's skepticism. The more seconds ticked by without either breaking under her stare, the more she came to accept the news as true. Grael. Dead. The loss of one of her most effective tools filled her with fury. But underneath that rage, a gnawing anxiety rose to the surface. She glanced over at Valinna, whose stern frown conveyed that she shared the same unease.

"And what of the witch," she demanded as soon as she could bring herself to form the question. "I notice you did not say anything regarding her. Nor do I see her with you. So where is she?"

"Gone." Larkin answered with a shrug. "No sign of her or anyone else. Just Grael…spattered in a hundred pieces like we said. Looks like someone painted the corridor walls with his blood."

A hundred pieces. Blood spattered everywhere. The description reminded her of an account from another time. Almost too close for comfort, because if her suspicions were true, it meant DeSade was even less predictable than Meredith had thought. Damn him. Grael was mine.

Meredith intended to make that point crystal clear to the Prince. Right now. She'd deal with what happened to that thieving bitch afterward, knowing that the safframate would have prevented her from getting too far. Rising from her seat, Meredith addressed the two men coolly.

"I'll have the matter seen to. You may go now."

After they'd left, she dismissed most of the coven. She almost dismissed them all, but kept Ettia and her cousin. If she had to send someone into DeSade's suite, no sense in wasting the opportunity to make the latter useful for something. As for Ettia, she could use the exposure in dealing with the Prince, having been promoted to the inner circle not so long ago. Valinna remained at her side as well, and the four of them made their way to the Prince's private quarters.

5/Terreille

Lilith breathed a little easier once the Prince was out of sight. The safframate was making it increasingly difficult to focus on why she was here. What she came here to do. Having him in the room only made that harder. And if he'd stayed to watch her undress…she might have done something very foolish.

And oh how she wanted to do something foolish.

Under the circumstances, odds were not in Lilith's favor that she could resist that desire for very long. She was alone with a Warlord Prince. Not with just any Warlord Prince- the most attractive, dark-jeweled Warlord Prince in all of Terreille. Mother Night. It just wasn't fair that he also possessed a rich, seductive voice that could melt a woman's bones. Knowing from whom he inherited it, Lilith directed a silent curse in the direction of the Keep. And then she cursed the root of her problem.

Damn the safframate and its mind games.

Lilith tried to shove those thoughts aside as she planned her next move. She didn't have to go through with this. With the Prince in the next room, she could take this opportunity to pass through his shield and find somewhere else to wait out the next few days. But that would reveal too much about her jeweled strength, even if he assumed she wore only the Red. Not a chance she could afford to take.

Which left her with no alternative. Sighing, Lilith vanished the dress she'd been wearing and shrugged into the Prince's shirt. As she buttoned it, she had to admit that he'd been right. Light silk wasn't as unbearable as the linen and wool of her own clothes, but she still wished she hadn't agreed to wear it. The layers had been barriers of protection keeping her away from him. And now all that protection had been replaced by a filmy garment that barely came down to her knees. She was sure he could see right through it.

The Prince's voice floated down the hall to inquire, "Is it safe for me to come out there again?"

Not likely, Lilith thought with a grimace.

"As safe as it's ever going to be, I guess."

He emerged from the hallway leading to his room and stopped when he saw her. In one slow sweeping gaze, he studied her from head to toe. His masked expression proved to be far more concerning than if he'd shown open interest. No way of knowing what was beneath the façade.

Definitely not safe here.

She should have taken the opportunity to run. Too late now. So Lilith paced, always keeping her circuit well away from him. Mother Night how she hurt. Another spasm ripped through her and she sucked in a breath through her teeth with a hiss. Focus. Just focus on breathing. But it wasn't helping to have him staring at her. Nerves frayed, she whirled around to face him.

"WHAT!?"

"How much did they give you?"

"I don't remember." Lilith did remember. She just didn't want to tell him the truth. But the Prince wasn't buying her lie, leveling a hard look in her direction as he waited for a better answer. With a sigh, she capitulated. "Okay, so it was two spoonfuls."

His sharply indrawn breath was the reason she hadn't wanted to tell him. He would know exactly what it meant to receive that much safframate. Several minutes passed before the Prince offered any response.

"That's madness. No one survives a dose like that."

"Well I mean to. There are a lot of things I've got to do yet."

He didn't ask her what she meant by that, or say anything at all. Just stared at her. Lilith couldn't bear the scrutiny and resumed pacing to give herself something else to focus on. It helped, but not much. After some time, he spoke again.

"I think I'm going to try to get some sleep."

"Okay."

"You should be fine out here."

"Okay."

The Prince shook his head and retreated into the darkness of the hallway leading to his bedroom. Lilith was grateful that he was no longer an immediate distraction. It was all she could do to pace and keep her sanity as the drug continued to rage on in her body. And so a half-hour passed with agonizing slowness, marked only by each additional circuit she made around the room. Somewhere around the hundredth one, someone knocked on the outer door. She jumped, startled.

"Prince DeSade, your presence is demanded, immediately."

Lilith recognized that voice. Meredith. Despite the Prince's assurance that no one would come here looking for her, the Queen herself was now standing just outside that door. She backed to the far side of the room and shuddered involuntarily. Partly from the safframate; partly at the thought of what she'd have to do if Meredith insisted upon searching the suite. She couldn't be allowed to discover her here or everything would be ruined.

You'd better reconsider finding the nearest window and make a run for it.

That wasn't a much better plan. If she disappeared, that would almost certainly cause problems, too. Lilith hesitated, unable to make a decision what to do. And ultimately, that hesitation cost her the opportunity to escape. At the second knock, the Prince strode into the room. He pointed to a closet and motioned that she should get in. Lilith didn't argue, and squeezed between two coats.

Luckily for her, the closet door was made of horizontal wooden slats. She peered through them just in time to watch him fling open the door. Meredith stood on the other side, the absolute picture of impatience. Not surprisingly, she wasn't alone. Valinna and two other witches had come with her. The Prince paid little attention to any of them, fixing a disinterested stare on the Queen.

"Meredith, how unusual to find you visiting my suite at this hour. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Don't play coy with me," she scoffed. "One of the Warlords of the Court is dead."

"How unfortunate," the Prince crooned. "And you thought I'd want to know."

"I came to demand an explanation from the one who murdered him."

The outrage in her tone was unmistakable. Most would cower in fear; the Prince hardly batted an eyelash. He kept her waiting for at least a minute before offering any reply. And even that bespoke an air of bemused insolence.

"Oh yes, that. My apologies, darling, but Grael got in the way of something I wanted. If he hadn't been so insistent to keep it…" he shrugged.

The implication of those words were not lost on Lilith. Or Meredith, for that matter. Obviously, he meant her. It was a good ploy, she had to admit. If he openly admitted that Lilith was in his suite, the Queen wouldn't have any reason to keep searching for her. And if he convinced her that he would do the job Grael had been tasked to perform, she would be content to leave her with him. From what Lilith could see, Meredith was at least intrigued enough to entertain the idea. Her fury had abated in favor of barely concealed interest.

"Something you wanted, you say. Very interesting."

"And now you're interrupting me."

The Queen's look turned calculating. She'd taken the bait he'd dangled for her. Lilith noted that the Black Widow beside her wasn't quite as sold on the idea, but she didn't seem inclined to bring up her concerns. Valinna wouldn't risk contradicting Meredith in front of the Prince- or the other two witches- but no doubt she'd have something to say about it when the two were alone. For now, though, Lilith counted it in her favor that the witch didn't intervene.

"Am I to understand that you brought this…something…here to play with?"

"Why of course."

"I should have thought of you first, naturally. An excellent turn of events." She cast a look to the witches with her. "I believe all is settled to my satisfaction. It is regrettable to have lost Grael, but he was a fool and brought his fate on himself."

Valinna showed no reaction, but the other two witches nodded in agreement. Both of them cast wary looks at the Prince. Lilith couldn't see his expression from her hiding place, but she could guess that it was something unsettling. The Queen turned back to him.

"By all means, Prince, have your fun. But mind you- we want her alive when it's over. Understood?"

"As the Lady pleases. Is that all you expect- alive?"

She must have reconsidered the latitude that instruction afforded him, and clarified, "And whole enough that she's still able to answer questions coherently."

After a moment of thoughtful silence, he sighed as if annoyed by the inconvenience of Meredith's restrictions.

"Jewels?"

"She won't have need of those."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't spoil all I had planned."

"We'll be back to collect her in a few days, Prince. See that it's done by then."

With that, she turned on her heel and led the others away. Lilith watched the Prince wait for them to disappear around a corner before closing the door. He restored the Red lock and walked towards the closet. Lilith didn't move or breathe. She was so focused on getting through another spasm that she nearly toppled over when he yanked the door open.

"Didn't you hear me say it was safe to come out?"

"No," she gasped.

He knelt down beside her, entirely too close for comfort. Lilith scooted back.

"Relax," he said. "It was a game- a lie I told them to buy you some time."

"I know what you were doing. I'm not stupid."

They lapsed into silence again. Lilith had to move before she did something she'd regret. She skirted around him and went back to pacing the room. The Prince should go back to bed now that the Queen was gone. No reason for him to stay out here with her. But all he did was stare. Lilith wasn't sure she liked the expression he wore.

6/Terreille

She was suffering. He could see it in every move of her body. Every nerve and muscle was strung tight as a piano wire. When he'd gone to his bedroom earlier, he'd heard her constant pacing. Alex thought again about what she'd said.

Two spoonfuls.

Meredith and her coven bitches rarely dosed him- or the other pleasure slaves- with more than one spoonful. And for good reason. One was enough to keep a man aroused long enough to satisfy their needs. But two. Alex hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said it was madness. A dose like that had just one purpose- to completely break the body, mind and Jewels. Usually an added cruelty as part of an execution.

Which brought him back to Lilith. What had she done that prompted Meredith to do it? And what could they want with a witch in that condition, but left alive? He couldn't think of good answers to either of those questions. For the time being, Alex focused on the more immediate question of what to do now that he'd convinced Meredith to let him keep Lilith here.

Nothing says I have to do anything.

After living in this court all his life, he'd gotten used pain and suffering- his or anyone else's. When it came to himself, he'd learned to embrace it. Use it as a weapon against his tormentors. The suffering of others…in most cases, he chose to ignore it. For those who didn't deserve to suffer, he saw no benefit in interceding on their behalf. Rare that he could do anything, anyway. So the point was a valid one. He could easily say that he'd done enough for the witch and leave it at that. She could deal with the safframate on her own.

Except that she couldn't. Lilith had no hope of surviving the next few days by pacing alone. It was only going to get worse. The relentless need caused by the drug would send her into a state of hysteria. Eventually she'd break, and it would take her sanity and her Jewels.

That brings up an interesting question- just what are they, anyway?

Alex hadn't thought of it until now, but he'd yet to get a sense of Lilith's Jewels. She wasn't wearing them openly, but he ought to be able to sense something. As she continued to pace, he thought he'd try to find them out. After several minutes of no luck, Alex gave up. Maybe she didn't wear any. If that was the case, he was all the more puzzled why the bitches wanted her destroyed.

The safframate gripped her again. Blood drained out of her face and she stared right through him. He couldn't help admiring her tenacity, but it was clear the toll it was taking for her to keep fighting. Alex's thoughts turned down an unexpected road. She could survive this in one piece…if he were willing to help. Safframate worked itself out in one of two ways- violence or sex. Although not a complete relief, sex could take the edge off the worst of it and make things bearable.

Especially with someone like him.

Of course, even considering that option was insane. Alex was the last person who'd ever want to take a witch to bed. Hadn't the court bitches taught him enough to resent sex? It was a duty, and one he'd learned to hate. Oh he'd mastered every aspect. Mastered all the ways to make a witch feel whatever he wanted. And he'd used those skills in ways none of them expected and few survived. They learned not to trust him unless someone was controlling the Ring he wore.

Even then it wasn't always enough, he added.

So only the Darkness knew why he would even consider having sex with a witch when he wasn't forced to, or if he wasn't using it to have revenge on Meredith's coven. He shouldn't. Wouldn't. Even if he wanted to help her, Alex had to draw the line at that.

Easier said than done. As he watched Lilith continue to pace, that resolve weakened with every passing minute. Alex told himself he'd be offering out of charity- that it would be the right thing to do. Wasn't that a good enough reason? She was suffering like he'd suffered, and he could help her through it. Wouldn't he have wanted someone to do that for him?

He'd almost convinced himself that he could have no other reason to reconsider when she made another circuit around the room, passing in front of him. Her hands were balled into fists, wrinkling the shirt he'd lent her. But Alex's attention was drawn elsewhere, noticing that the bottom hem stopped just above her knees to leave most of her legs bare. Or worse, that the ivory-colored silk wasn't quite heavy enough to completely obscure the swell of her hips and breasts…not to mention the dark apex at the juncture of her thighs.

Before he could stop himself, Alex had already sketched a mental picture of what she might look like naked. Not a displeasing thought, to his surprise. He had expected to feel revulsion and dread. Instead, interest stirred through him. More than interest, in fact. Hell's fire and Mother Night- he wanted her.

I should walk away now, he told himself. I've never wanted a witch before and I certainly don't want to want one now.

Instead of taking his own advice, he heard himself say, "Lilith?"

"I thought you'd go back to sleep," she replied, her voice sharp, as if she already suspected the direction his thoughts had taken.

"Not tired."

"You don't need to watch over me like a mother hen."

"Lilith, you can't keep this up."

"I've walked miles before. My legs won't collapse if I walk a few more." She glanced down at her feet. "Although the same might not be true of the carpet."

"Lilith, I'm serious." Obviously she was trying to downplay the pain. Alex wasn't going to let her, so he put himself directly in her way. When she tried to step around, he held his arm out to stop her. "It's only going to get worse. If you don't do something, you could shatter your mind or your Jewels- or both."

"I'm tougher than you give me credit for," she threw back at him. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't."

"Well, then what would you have me do?"

Apparently, she didn't know as much about safframate as he did. Or she was too focused on what the drug was doing to her to realize where the conversation was headed. Might as well get it over with.

"There's one thing proven to help."

Lilith's expression grew still and closed. No mistake she knew what he meant now. She looked even less thrilled to hear it than he was to make the offer, even if he hadn't quite gotten to it yet.

"You'd better not be suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Prince."

"I speak from experience. It does help."

"You are, aren't you? You're suggesting that I…that we…" she backed away.

"I'm offering to help. You don't have to look so damned horrified."

"I won't do it."

"Why not?"

"How can you ask me that? You should know why not more than anyone else."

Alex was taken aback at her response, and waited for some explanation. All he got was silence. When it became obvious she wasn't going to say anything else, he prompted her, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she replied bitterly. "It means nothing. Go back to sleep and leave me alone. I don't need your help."

"Fine," he swore and stalked away from her.

Let her pace herself into a frenzy. What did he care that she didn't want his help? Alex told himself she'd done him a favor by refusing the offer. He should feel lucky that she didn't want him. But as the hours passed and the sounds of pacing didn't stop, Alex felt his anger lessen.

Every so often he heard a choked sob. It brought up memories he never wanted to think of again. And the longer the night went on, the less lucky he was beginning to feel. At some point, he considered an aural shield. At least then he couldn't hear her suffering. But Alex couldn't bring himself to do it. He stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep as the night crawled onward.