Reluctant Prince. Dani-Lyn Alexander
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to his side and straightened. “You will be completely stripped of your powers and unable to transfer back to Cymmera until such time has ended. At that time your trial will commence, and you will be called before this throne again.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He bowed before his father, his king.
“You are dismissed.”
Kai’s glare seared a hole in his back.
How would he ever prove something he didn’t even understand? The threat of death loomed over him, followed him out of the chamber.
Chapter 2
A rhythmic rocking comforted Ryleigh. She couldn’t open her eyes, but that was okay. She would just float in peaceful obscurity.
“Ryleigh.” A man shook her shoulder. “Ryleigh, can you hear me?”
Yes. She wanted to answer, but she couldn’t form the words. Humming, familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it. Something pricked her arm.
“Ryleigh, can you answer me?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Pressure against her head. Oww. Why did her head hurt so much? Why wouldn’t these people leave her alone? A flicker of memory teased her. Rocking, bumping, the floor moving. Was she moving now? She reached for consciousness, only to be dragged back into oblivion.
A bright light shone against her eyes. She lay still for a moment, enjoying the orange and black swatches of color that swirled behind her closed lids. The blackness began to take on shape, the oranges and yellows merging to form a halo around a human shaped silhouette. The silhouette of a guy with broad shoulders.
“Ryleigh.” The man spoke louder this time.
She struggled to respond. The dreamy image dissipated the instant her eyes fluttered open, but the memory plagued her, followed her into consciousness. Everything hurt, as if she’d been run over by a truck. Background noise intruded on her confusion, beeping, talking, footsteps, more beeping. Bright light burned her eyes, added to the already thunderous headache threatening to overwhelm her. Bile surged up the back of her throat.
“How do you feel, Ryleigh?”
“I hurt.” She struggled to sit up.
“Lie still, honey.” He pressed her back down, his deep voice comforting, firm, in control.
Why did that matter? Control. Everything was out of control. The memories poured over her in an avalanche of emotion, battered at her mind, threatened to suffocate her. She fought the restraining hands.
“Ryleigh.” Fingers tightened around her arms.
Longing to flee, she thrashed even harder.
“Ryleigh, you have to stop struggling. You’re going to pull your IV out.” The man’s voice was firm, but not unkind.
Sounds that had melded into a dull roar began to make sense. The machines beeping, moans and sobs, wheels clattering as a cart rolled across the floor. She was in the hospital. Was Mia here? Was she hurt? They would ask questions. Questions that were better left unanswered. “Ugh.”
“It’s okay, honey. Just relax.” An elderly nurse patted her arm.
Yeah right. She started to cough.
The hands that had worked so hard to restrain her now eased her up. Someone raised the back of the stretcher and tucked the torn sleeve of her blouse up to adjust the IV.
Once the coughing fit subsided, she fell back against the bed. She rubbed her chest, but it didn’t relieve her pain.
Someone adjusted a tube under her nose. Oxygen? Had she pulled it free in her struggles?
“Welcome back, Ryleigh. I’m Dr. Martin. Do you know where you are?”
The small cubicle housed a variety of machines, a tray holding an assortment of instruments and bloody cloths, the doctor, and two nurses. “I’m in the hospital.” Rawness scratched her throat. “What happened?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” The doctor had kind eyes, but his concerned frown hardened them.
Ryleigh licked her lips, but it did little to relieve the dryness. She tried to swallow, which led to another coughing episode.
A nurse pressed a paper cup into her hand.
Grateful, Ryleigh popped an ice chip into her mouth and moved it around, hoping to ease the worst of the discomfort and stall for time. Her stomach turned over, and she abandoned the cup on the counter beside her.
“There was an earthquake?”
The doctor nodded distractedly as he studied Ryleigh’s eyes.
“Is my sister here? I have to find my sister.” She sat up and tugged the tubing from beneath her nose.
“Hey, hey, hold on.” He stilled her hands, took the oxygen from her, and returned it to its place. “I’m not sure if your sister’s here, hon, but we can find out for you. Just lie back down so I can finish up here. What’s your sister’s name?”
“Mia.” She settled back down, tried to fight back the fear and co-operate.
“Her full name?”
Ryleigh dropped her head back without answering and reached for her head.
The doctor stopped her. “You have stitches in your head.” He pressed a piece of gauze against the injury and taped it into place. “Can you tell me what—”
“Please, doctor. I need to find my sister.” Pain hammered through her head. Her hands shook. Nausea threatened.
The doctor nodded to one of the nurses, who turned and left the room. “Don’t worry, honey. The nurse won’t be long. If your sister’s here she’ll find her.” He sat back and studied Ryleigh. “There, you’re all done. How do you feel?”
Ryleigh breathed a small sigh of relief. A safe topic. “Everything hurts.”
“You’ll feel better in a couple of days.” He patted her knee. “Just sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes. We’re going to do some x-rays and clean up your feet and legs.” He stood, pulled the curtain aside and was instantly swallowed up by the bedlam of the emergency room.
She hadn’t noticed the stinging before the doctor mentioned it, but now it stole every bit of her concentration. Her feet and knees were on fire. She turned one foot up to examine the bottom and dropped it back down just as quickly. Ouch. Would she be able to walk? Well, she didn’t have a choice. She had to find Mia and get out of there. The last thing she needed was a social worker breathing down her neck. She’d be eighteen in less than a year, and then she could be Mia’s legal guardian. In the meantime, they both had to lay low and keep from drawing attention to themselves.
She sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the stretcher. Everything swam in and out of focus, and she gripped the bed tightly. Sweat coated her forehead. She stared straight ahead trying to steady her vision.
A shadow moved toward her.
She squinted in an effort to bring the shape into focus. Was she hallucinating?
The silhouette moved toward her, the same figure that had emerged from the flames just before she’d escaped the building. The sea of people parted as he strode through the chaos.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to swallow.
He didn’t seem much older than her, yet he exuded confidence and strength, power even. His features became more defined as he moved closer. Shaggy dark hair, strong jaw, full lips, cold, hard, intense eyes that locked onto hers, sucked her in, caged her.
A jolt of fear shot through her. Who was he? And why was he here? Had he been hurt in the earthquake? Somehow she didn’t think so. His black jeans and long-sleeved black shirt didn’t have a