I yank at it to no avail, my hands beginning to shake.
“That’s interesting,” Alex says quietly. “I could remove it at will.”
“That’s because you’re human,” I snap, beginning to panic. “You have no magic. The spelled ring merely blocked the link, shielding you from the tether.”
The tether that’s visible again now that I wear the ring. I see it as plain as day—a thin, golden cord of magic attached to Alex’s wrist. But Cadoc is dead. Even without the ring’s protection, Alex should be free.
But his tether is the least of my worries right now.
Oblivious to my discovery, Alex says, “That’s how it was explained to me as well.”
Where did Alex get his hands on the ring? I’ve never seen an object charmed with this forbidden curse in my life.
“I need Brahm.” I already feel like I’m suffocating without my magic. “He’ll know what to do.”
“Only the one who created the enchantment can release you.” Alex steps back, looking oddly pensive. “And he’ll remove it when it’s time. But for now…you’ll stay with me.”
I jerk my head up to look at him. “What?”
Alex turns away. “You’re mine for three months—a generous exchange considering I was in captivity for a year.”
My heart kicks up a notch, beating so fast I’m afraid I’ll pass out. I feel like a rabbit in front of a barghest. How could I have misjudged Alex so completely?
“Are you saying you plan to hold me prisoner?” I demand, my voice sharp with terror.
Alex turns back to face me even though he’s too gutless to meet my eyes. “You should consider yourself fortunate. Unlike Lord Treald, I won’t mistreat you. Do as I ask, and we can pretend you simply decided to extend your holiday. You said you don’t want to be queen anyway. I’m giving you a season of freedom.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I exclaim in a heated whisper. “My brothers will kill you.”
Alex wrenches his eyes to mine. “Only if they find you.”
“Alex, please…”
“Alexander,” he corrects. “Only my friends call me Alex, and we’re not friends. I’m beneath you, remember, princess? I’m a pitiful human.”
It’s a low blow, but I can cry over it later. Steeling myself, I demand, “What do you want with me?”
Alex—no, Alexander—shoves his hands into his front pockets with a sigh. “I want your voice.”