Sabine by Moira Rogers Page B

palace.”
    The words gave Sabine the strength to step forward. “I would speak to you alone, Lady. You and your sorceress.”
    As the women behind her began to rise, Maris flung out one hand, pointing at a petite brunette with flawless skin and the bearing of a gentlewoman. “Iloria must stay as well. As my son’s true intended mate, this concerns her greatly.”
    The woman flinched and looked as though she wanted to leave, but she only bowed her head. “As you wish, my lady.”
    Farran bared his teeth in what seemed to be a warning, but he didn’t disagree. “She stays. The rest of you leave. Now. ”
    As the room emptied, Sabine once again met the witch’s gaze, and she caught another jolt of recognition. “You see it, don’t you? You did before. You don’t remember me, but you always saw the magic.”
    â€œMy magic.” The woman’s frown deepened. “Some of my power is tied to your own, but obscured, as well. The purpose is unclear.”
    â€œYou cast a spell on me.” Sabine clenched her hands into fists. “A curse, meant to make Ciar forget me while he was away.”
    Shocked stares turned to the High Lady and her witch. Both women blanched, then Maris’s face flushed a deep red as her back stiffened. “I would never—” Everyone heard the lie, even in only a few words. “I do not recall doing any such thing.”
    â€œI think that’s the crux of the matter, Maris.” Farran bit Ciar’s mother’s name off with the edge of a snarl, one her son echoed. “Have your witch reverse her magic. Now.”
    The witch made a noise of protest. “If I don’t know the spell—”
    â€œYou can do it.” Sabine clenched her hand in Ciar’s fur. “There never was a spell which could not be undone.”
    Farran’s rumble of agreement filled the room. “The High Lord bids you do your best, if you want to remain in his territory.”
    The witch paled. “All I can do is strip her of magic. It will dissolve most anything. Spells to attune items, glamours—”
    â€œMating bonds.” Sabine breathed the words without thinking, sure in her gut they were true.
    Ciar was there at once, his head butting against her hip as reassurance flowed from him. “Then I’ll mate you again.”
    It didn’t take being privy to his thoughts to read the action, and Maris’s eyes narrowed. “By all means, dissolve it. Give my son a chance to rectify his mistake.”
    The growl that rumbled free from Farran should not have been possible, given his human form. “Hold your tongue, woman, if you have sense in your head.” He turned his fierce gaze on the witch. “Get on with it, then. Take your magic from her and prepare to beg for your lord’s mercy.”
    The witch seemed torn between relief and confusion. Both gave way to fear as she faced Sabine and bowed her head. The hands she lifted trembled, and magic gathered in the room, coalescing into a tangible pressure around Sabine.
    For a moment there was nothing but that pressure, the hair-raising stillness that preceded a storm. It tickled uncomfortably over her skin, and Sabine opened her mouth to ask what came next. What to expect.
    But she had no breath and realized that pressure was growing within her as well as without, and she started to panic. Then the pain started, a dull throb that grew into piercing barbs of agony. She twisted, turned, but there was no escape.
    When she was sure she could bear no more, the magic vanished. Everything, even the niggling shreds that had dogged her heels for the last few years. She’d felt them flare each time someone had turned a blank gaze her way, showing no hint of recognition.
    Gone.
    She wanted to weep with relief.
    Sabine opened her mouth to speak, but the magic returned with a roaring vengeance. The torment swelled, crested, and Sabine’s knees