“Please, do you have anything to take away the odor?” I gestured to the leather. “It smells like him.”

She quickly fetched a bottle and I rubbed a little of the ointment under my nose. It was almost like Vicks . . . and strong enough to block the smell of the dragon without angering him. Relieved and wrapped in a thick blanket, I let her lead me to the table, where I saw that she’d prepared a light meal of eggs, applesauce, bread, and honey.

“This should settle on your stomach without too much problem,” she said, handing me a glass of wine to go with it. “You must eat to keep up your strength. But . . . before you do, I hate to embarrass you.”

“What?” I asked, thinking there wasn’t much she could do to further humiliate me beyond what Hyto had already done.

“I need to put a salve on your thighs and . . . your privates. The Master roughed you up pretty badly, my dear. And we don’t want the skin to get infected.” She held up a jar.

Blushing, I nodded and leaned back, spreading my legs. She was quick, with a light touch, and she spread the salve on the injured parts of my body. She also spread some of it on the purple blossoms spreading across my back and stomach.

“It will work for the bruising, too. There now, eat and then you must sleep. We have no idea when he will call for you next.” She fixed the blanket, tucking it around me again as she might tuck in a child.

“How long . . . how often . . . did he call for his other toys?” I glanced up at her, not wanting to know how many women had suffered over Hyto’s lifetime.

She swallowed hard. “You are the first who’s returned from his chamber.”

I stared at her. “The others . . .”

“One night. The past few years, I’ve cleared away the bones of at least two dozen young women . . . the Master created this retreat some time back, before . . .” Hanna glanced around, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Before his wife forced him out of the Reaches. I have been captive here for five years. In that time, all of the women brought here have died.”

My stomach lurched again. So he’d had this chamber while still married to Smoky’s mother. I wondered if she knew about it. And if so, what did she think? I couldn’t imagine her being pleased. From what Iris had told me, silver dragons—like Smoky’s mother—were at the top of the dragon food chain, and it would be an embarrassment to have a white dragon husband prone to behavior like this.

And then I realized what Hanna had said. “You’ve been here five years? And your son?” I glanced over at the cage where the silent boy lay sleeping.

“Kjell has been in that cage for five long years. He . . . it’s been a while since he said anything to me. He can no longer talk. I don’t even know if he understands me, though he likes it when I sing to him.” Her voice low, she cocked her head to one side, and silent tears traced down her cheeks.

I wanted to cry with her. For Hanna. For Kjell. For the dozens of women Hyto had murdered. For myself. For my loves, so far away. For all of the wrongs of the world. But the enormity of what I’d been through hit me like a punching bag, and I slumped at the table. “I’m sorry. I can’t take any more tonight. I need to sleep.”

Hanna led me over to a pallet—much softer than the one I’d woken up on.

“Sleep. Here, drink this. Five drops of it will deepen your rest but won’t make you groggy when you wake up.” She handed me a little bottle. “The Master would beat me if he knew I had this, but . . . I use it when I can’t stand being here, when I can’t face myself or what I do for him.”

I took the bottle and didn’t even hesitate. I needed the rest. I swallowed five drops of the bitter liquid. “Did he ever . . . has he raped you?”

She shook her head. “He needs me too much to subject me to that. The women he has captured . . . Camille, he not only abuses them, but he eats them afterward, in dragon form. The first, he tried to molest in his natural form and it split her apart. He didn’t try that again—he likes to play with his food before he eats. And it’s no fun if his prey dies so quickly. I’m not saying this to frighten you, but to warn you.”

“I know all about him,” I said. “Remember? He’s my husband’s father. And I know that unless I escape, the minute my husband comes here to save me, Hyto will kill me in front of him. Anything he can do to intensify the pain, he’ll do. I understand.”

And with that, I slid under the thick quilt that Hanna tucked over me and closed my eyes. A moment later, I felt her lips on my forehead, and it was like my mother had suddenly returned to give me her blessing. I didn’t say a word, but snuggled under the cover and immediately fell into a dark and deep slumber.

And then I was running. A shadow loomed behind me and, terrified it might be Hyto, I darted from side to side, looking for some cover, some place to hide. But the shadow stayed apace with me, and after a while, I turned to find that it was merely a reflection of myself.

“What do you want? Who are you? Why do you look like me?”

And then, I flashed—and was in the other body, staring at my bruised and aching self. “You know what I want,” I found myself saying. “You know why you’re running from me. Just admit it, because otherwise you’re going to stand in your own way.”

Blink, and back to myself. An ache stirred in my heart. “No, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to get out of this dream.”

My alter ego shrugged. “You can’t, not until you reclaim the part of yourself you’re rejecting. Not until you reclaim me. Think about it, Camille . . . think what the hell you’re doing.”

I hung my head. I knew, deep inside, what was going on. I didn’t want to face it—didn’t want to admit it.

“I . . . What do you want me to say?”

“The truth. Just fucking be honest with me—with yourself .”

I let out a shuddering breath. “Fine. You want honest? This is all my fault.”

“How? How the hell did you cause this?”

“If I hadn’t let Vanzir fuck me, then I wouldn’t have had the argument with Smoky, and Hyto wouldn’t have caught hold of me.” A bitter tang rose up in my mouth and my anger surprised me. “If I hadn’t enjoyed Vanzir, this wouldn’t have happened. Somehow—if I could have hated him for what happened . . . if I hadn’t been agreeable . . .”

“You mean if Vanzir had raped you . . . or if you had killed him, then Hyto wouldn’t have come looking for you? Or maybe, if you had let Vanzir feed off your mind, none of this would have happened?”

Apparently, I was really good at needling myself.

“Yes—no! I don’t know!” Frustrated, angry at myself—both sides of me—I leaned against a wall. “The argument over Vanzir led to my getting caught. This is all my fault.”

“You fucking know that’s not true—get it out of your head. Would you tell that to Delilah? Did Menolly deserve what she got because she couldn’t hold her position and fell right into the midst of Dredge’s lair? Did she?”

Angry now, furious that those words could even find their way into my voice—be it me, or an alternate me saying it—I lashed out.

“No! She didn’t deserve it. Nobody deserves it. And those women Hyto killed didn’t deserve it, either. And neither do I!”

“Then why are you harboring the secret fear that you do deserve it?” My alter ego was softer now, almost tearful.

I closed my eyes, hung my head. “I don’t know. Maybe . . . maybe it’s because I need somebody to be angry at, someone not out to kill me. I can’t fight back against Hyto. If I can’t scream at him . . . so who the hell can I scream at? Not at Hanna—she’s my only hope for help. And it’s not her fault, either. How can I deal with all this anger and fear and pain if I can’t get it outside myself?”

“What about your magic? Don’t ever forget you’re a witch. You’re a priestess for the Moon Mother. Doesn’t that count for something?”

A cool wind rushed over me and I opened my eyes to find myself standing in a wide barren field. I was on the astral—in spirit, but above me was the Moon and she was peeking down at me, reaching down with her glittering touch to wrap me in moonbeams from the faint sliver that glistened in the sky. The promise of hope, of love, of finding my way in the darkness enveloped me, and I clung to the dream, clung to the strands of possibility.

I held on to her promise for all I was worth. My magic . . . what spells could I cast that might help me? Death magic wasn’t going to do me any good—especially not without Morio—but perhaps . . .

Running through my repertoire of spells, I remembered the Summoning spell. I didn’t have any physical components, but maybe I didn’t need them. I was a priestess now—yes, untrained—but I had been chosen by the Moon Mother.

I closed my eyes and gathered all the energy I could from that faint sliver of light in the sky, and wove it between my fingers. Please, please don’t backfire on me now. Please help me. Please summon someone who can find me.

I thought of my husbands, of Morio and Smoky and Trillian. Longing for them, I searched for their energy and felt the edges of it, but couldn’t quite reach out enough. I looked for Chase, but he was gone and I silently wished him luck in getting off the astral, back home. And then—from a distance, I felt someone familiar.

Following the trail of energy, I started walking, then running at a pace only one of the Moon Mother’s chosen can manage. The Moon had my back and she was giving me strength. I soaked it in, directed it toward my injuries, bade her be with me in spirit as well as body.

A great energy surged through my spirit, and my speed increased. I raced like the wind, like the hounds of Hel were following me. My hair streamed back, and with each step, each fall of my feet into the mists, my determination increased. I would not let Hyto win. I would not blame myself for this. Vanzir and I had done what we needed to do, and there were just some things you could never undo, never change, so you learned to live with them.

The energy up ahead was coming at me full tilt now, and, overjoyed, I flew toward it, stumbling to a stop before a figure that I now recognized.

“Vanzir! What are you doing here?”

He looked as startled as I felt. “I don’t know—I was out on guard duty and suddenly found myself here, running toward . . . I guess it was you.” His eyes spun and he hung his head. “I’m so fucking sorry, Camille. I wish I could take this all away . . . take it all back. How did you get away? Are you okay?”

I stared at him. “I’m not here in body. Vanzir, I’m trapped in the Northlands. Hyto has me.”

He nodded gravely. “I know he has you. We found the cloak and the mark on the tree. Smoky’s already gone to OW, searching for you. Shade and Rozurial are getting ready to leave for the Northlands, so hang on. They’re going to try to find you. Delilah and Menolly went to Grandmother Coyote—I’m not sure what happened because they just took off for there before I went out for a walk. Trillian and Shamas are staying home to protect the house and Morio and Iris and Maggie.”

“Crap. Smoky’s in Otherworld? Does he know I’m in the Northlands?”

Vanzir paled. “He’s headed for the Dragon Reaches for help. He doesn’t know exactly where you are, though. Smoky . . . oh Camille, he’s terrifying.”

“But you’re alive?”

With a sad laugh, he inclined his head. “When Smoky realized that you’d been captured, he sent for me. Suggested a truce. He blames himself, Camille. He’s in a terrible state—and that means he’s highly dangerous. When he found the tree . . . and your cloak . . . he ripped several of the trees out of the ground and burned them to cinders. He changed into his natural shape and would have trampled the entire forest if Trillian and Iris hadn’t stopped him.”

I sank to the ground. “I want to come home. I need to come home. Vanzir, Hyto is . . .” Looking up mutely, I pulled up my skirts to show him the bruising on my thighs. Then I pointed to the collar around my neck. “I don’t know how much longer he’ll let me live. He’s setting a trap for Smoky with me. You have to let Smoky know that it’s a trap to catch him. I’m near the Skirts of Hel, to the north. In a cavern high up the mountain.”

“You think the big lug doesn’t know that Hyto’s out to trap him? But that won’t stop him from coming for you. And may the gods save whoever gets in his way. He’ll kill anyone or anything to have you back.”

After a moment, Vanzir began to flicker. “I feel like I’m being pulled back. I’ve got to go, Camille. I can’t hold my place here. I don’t have my powers, but something happened to me tonight—something to do with the Triple Threat. It happened out on their land—something . . . I don’t know what—”

And then he vanished into the night, and I felt myself being drawn back to my body, but then before I reentered the labyrinth, I stopped, once again staring up at the sliver of the moon.

An ancient voice, resonating from the sky, showered down around me in a silver rain of whispers. “My daughter, I would save you if I could, but there is a destiny for all creatures, and this seems to be part of your fate. Your training, though—never forget your training. Remember you are my daughter, you are my child. I will always be with you, through the horrific and the joyful. I will always be watching, helping when I can, sending my love when I can’t.”

I began to cry—she was so sad, my Lady. I could hear it in her voice. I reached up toward the moon, wanting to go to her, wanting to ride the skies with the Hunt and forget everything and everyone in the lust of the chase.

But the moon disappeared, and I was once again walking back through the labyrinth. My alter ego waited, and I walked up to her and embraced her, and we became one. Feeling both stronger and terribly old, I continued walking till I came to my sleeping form.

It would be so much easier to cut the cord. But I knew now they were searching for me. The men who loved me, my family—they were doing everything they could. I couldn’t give up on them. And so I slid into my body and closed my eyes, and fell into a deep, dark slumber.

“Camille, wake up, wake up.”

I pushed myself to a sitting position, weary and aching but bolstered from the memory of what I’d found out. “What is it?”

“Hyto wants you. I’m to bathe you, feed you, and bring you to his chamber.” Her brow was furrowed and she bit her lip as I groaned. Despite the salve, I hurt—there was no getting around it.

But then I remembered meeting Vanzir the night before and I steeled myself. They were hunting for me. I could do this. I could survive.

After another soak in the tub, which helped ease out my muscles, and another application of the salve to prevent infection, she handed me a thin, sheer skirt. No underwear—not even a thong, no top.

I looked at her mutely and she shrugged. “This is what he requested you wear.”

“It’s like a freakin’ tutu. He’s determined to humiliate me.”

And the scary thought was, he still might be able to do it. I felt stronger now, even with the hell he’d put me through the day before, but another reaming like that, or worse . . . I couldn’t guarantee I’d last through the pain.

My mind was strong, my will stronger. But torture had a way of driving the best person mad. And what Hyto was doing was torture. I slipped into the flimsy skirt and followed Hanna to the table, draping a blanket around my shoulder against the chill.

“I prepared food that might be easier on your stomach—soft bread and soup, and a baked apple.”

I ate, quickly, then used the restroom—as it was—and turned to her. “Each time, my chances of returning lessen. Please, if I don’t come back, hide my bones and give them to my loved ones. Because they will be here. They will rip that monster to shreds. And I want them to have what’s left of me.”

She pressed her lips together, but nodded, and mutely stood back, waiting for me to exit the chamber.

“I’m ready.” I sucked in a deep breath and we headed back to the chamber of horrors, where Hyto was waiting for me.

“Good little bitch. Let’s take a walk.” And forward he strode, his hair still through the loop on my collar. He moved faster than I could keep up so that I half-crawled, was half-dragged along the rough, rocky floor. Before we’d gone five yards the abrasions were burning on my hands and knees and shins. The skirt was already ripped. Would I be punished for that, too?

As we reached the throne, he sat down and yanked me to kneel at his feet. He turned his booted foot up so that I was facing the bottom of it. “Lick.”

“Yes, Master.” Shaking, I leaned forward and grimaced as I pressed my tongue to the bottom of his boots.

Hyto gave me a quick, sharp tap to the forehead with his foot and I fell backward. He laughed, roughly. “I’m bored. Amuse me.”

“What do you want me to do?” I couldn’t help it—I almost snarled, but I caught myself before the surliness came through.

He eyed me for a moment, and then, his gaze never leaving mine, he reached down and parted his robe. From between the folds of material, his pale, thick cock sprang up. “Blow me.”

I pressed my lips together, my stomach lurching. Of course he’d use sex against me—when throughout history hadn’t men used sex as a weapon against the women of their enemies? Abuse the wife, hurt the husband. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Reaching inside, deep into my core, I sought for strength from the Moon Mother.

Close your eyes, my daughter. I am with you. The Moon Mother echoed deep in my heart, and a resigned sense of strength rose up within my soul.

“Yes, Master.” I crawled forward, dreading the scent of his musk, hating the sight of his body, but the minute I leaned forward and placed my lips over the tip of his cock, the world began to swirl around me.

We raced then, chasing after the hounds.

We raced over hill and dale, into the sky, my Lady and I. We rooted out animals hiding in the forest, we ripped trees from their roots and sent them flying like a tornado. We crossed the heavens and I let out my anger and aggression on the clouds, sending them spinning as I whirled through the sky, feeling like a shooting star. Dizzy with the chaos and mayhem, I let out a wild shriek and dove through cloud bank and star stream.

And then, when I’d spent my anger, my Lady held me in her arms, rocking me, letting me cry . . . and then . . . I spiraled down, down, a helix, a vortex, a ribbon of color, and reentered my body.

Breathing hard, he leaned forward. “I might keep you alive for a while, just for this. You know what you’re doing.”

“Yes, Master.” I kept my voice flat. The exhilaration of the hunt still raced in my blood. The thrill of being with my Lady out on the astral. I begrudged the fact that he enjoyed it, but at least I wasn’t left with the memory.

Hyto seemed to sense that he’d exposed too much emotion, because he pulled away and the intense aloofness returned. “Footstool. Now.”

“Yes, Master.” I frantically looked around for one, but there was none in sight.

“Don’t be an idiot.” He kicked me again, this time in the side, and I fell back, suddenly realizing what he’d meant.

Shuddering, I went down, on all fours, in front of him, and he propped his heavy boots across my back. “Now, don’t move. Not an inch. Let’s see how well you obey your father-in-law, girl.”

I couldn’t see him from the direction I was facing, could see nothing but stone and—out of the corner of my eye—the fire burning in the fire pit. How long would he keep me in this position? I knew he was punishing me for making him enjoy himself. He probably would have gone easier on me if I’d sucked at giving him a blow job.

After ten minutes, my back started to ache. I was a strong woman, but the combination of remaining on hands and knees while his feet—in those godawful boots—were digging into my back was starting to really hurt, especially against the abrasions he’d already put there. I winced but kept my mouth shut.

Fifteen minutes and I desperately wanted to shift, but I forced myself to remain in position. Twenty minutes, and he’d still made no move to let me up. By now, I had the backache from hell and wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand this. It wasn’t like playing horsey with Maggie while I was down on the floor, or even like sex play with my lovers. This was serious muscle-spasm time.

After a few more minutes, I decided to chance a glance up at him.

Hell. He was staring directly at me, lips curved in a half grin, half snarl, like a wolf waiting to attack. His eyes were glinting with a perverse joy and I realized he’d been waiting for me to break. I quickly looked away, but it was too late.

“So, you can’t take an order.” His feet hit the floor.

“I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry.” I broke out in a cold sweat. This wasn’t going to be good, I knew it in my gut.

“You have a complaint? Maybe you don’t like being related to me?” He leaned forward. Despite every inclination I had, I forced myself to stay in position. Run, and he might kill me.

“No complaints, Master.”

His face inches from mine now, his eyes took on a cold, hard edge.

“The expression on your face tells me otherwise. So my hospitality is not to your liking, my daughter-in-law?” Suddenly he was standing, towering over me, all seven-plus feet of him. I instinctively scrambled away, but he caught me with that damned hair of his, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. After a moment, he used it to force me over a slab of rock, facedown, and brushed my hair from my back. Then, another long strand of his hair knotted into a harsh braided whip and, with a bone-jarring crack, he brought it sweeping across my lower back, right where the strain had been the worst.

My composure vanished. I screamed as the lashes fell, the bite of the braided hair stinging against my flesh. I could feel the welts rising.

“You are not my equal! Do you hear me? You are not my equal!” With each fall of the lash, Hyto grew more frenzied. After six strokes, he jerked away, panting, his hair coiling like snakes around his head.

I rolled over on my side, staring up at him, mute, unable to do more than stifle the sobs that lurched up in my throat. His eyes flashed and I knew we were at a pivotal point. I could so easily die if I made one wrong move.

“I would kill you now . . . I would kill you . . . but it would spoil my plans.” In a ragged voice, he railed against me. “How dare you lure my son away? How dare you set him up to take my place? To strike me down in his mother’s eyes? How dare you come into my family and ruin my life! You are a worthless lump of flesh. You are less than the worms of the fields. Slut—cow! Filthy mortal!”

I said nothing. Did nothing. My life was hanging by a thread.

Hyto caught me up, his hair so tight around my wrist that it felt like the bones were going to break. He pulled me close, eye level, and a sickly grin spread across his face. “Now, I think you shall learn what it feels like to ride a real dragon and not that weak son of mine.”

Gritting my teeth, I began to disassociate. I heard the swish of his robe as he pulled it back, and the next moment he was inside me, ramrod hard and fierce. With every grunt, he reverberated through my body like another fist in my stomach.

“You like this? Answer me, slave!” He yanked on my hair, so hard I shrieked. “Remember who your master is, Camille.” The warning was so charged I had to respond.

“Yes . . . yes, Master . . .” The words echoed out of my mouth, but they were hollow husks floating on the wind with no power put into them. They meant nothing to me.

“I will kill you slowly, in front of him. My son will watch you die in agony, and he will know he could do nothing to stop me.”

After a few moments he tore away, grabbing me by the wrist and tossing me across the room, like a rag doll. I landed on the floor with a bone-numbing thud. Sucking in a deep breath, I glared at him through the tears and snot running down from my nose, no longer caring about his anger.

“Smoky loves me. He’s my husband. I will always know he loves me. Do you understand that? You can beat me, you can kill me a thousand times over and I’ll take that knowledge to my grave.”

He stood there panting, staring at me, and then with a terrible cry he was at my side, kicking me square in the hip. I screamed as he yelled for Hanna.

She scurried in.

“Get her out of my sight. Now! Before I kill her.”

Hanna hurriedly yanked me along, dragging me through the door and down the hall.

“Hurry, hurry! If we stay in his presence, we die.” She bustled me back into the safety of the cave with the tub, pulling the curtain shut. Only then did she let me rest, pushing me onto the pallet as she huddled with me. After a while, she let out her breath.

“He is in a murderous rage. If we are lucky, he’ll go out, to work off his anger. I know not what you did to him, girl, but I fear for you. I truly do.”

I caught her gaze as she began to move around, looking for the ointments and salves to treat the welts and bruising. I knew what I’d done. He wanted me. And he did not want to desire me. I’d inadvertently challenged him by not kowtowing to him. I refused to beg him, to make him feel superior. But most of all, I simply existed. Smoky loved me and had taken my side over his father’s. And there, right there, was the answer.

“All I have to do in order to anger him is exist. His son has turned on him. Hyto blames me.” I shook my head. “That’s the only thing.”

Hanna nodded. “That would do the trick, all right. He’s an arrogant beast—white dragons are the worst when it comes to their grasping ways. They crave power and they feed off fear. Any defiance is seen as an insult.” She gently swept my hair to the side. “Let me attend to your wounds, girl. Then, sleep. Right now, it’s the best you can do for your body.”

As I leaned forward for her to examine my back, I realized that I’d hit on the core of Hyto’s anger. My very existence had become an insult to him. He blamed me for his disgrace, for his fall from the Dragon Reaches. I had become his scapegoat, and he wouldn’t rest until I—and Smoky—were punished for his madness. And somehow, I had a feeling no punishment was enough to make Hyto feel strong in himself again. He would never be able to terrorize us enough to mend his ego.

I was in the hands of a psycho. A psychotic dragon. Somehow, fighting Shadow Wing didn’t seem quite so terrifying a prospect compared to this.