Free Spirit Binder by Meghan Ciana Doidge Page B

looked sorrowful for a moment, and didn’t seem to want to answer her. Then she realized he was listening to someone on his side of the dream, someone she couldn’t hear, though she’d been able to hear the dreamwalker speak before. It was as if this was a different person, one she couldn’t feel or see, though a presence was there, if she looked for it. It was just heavily shielded.
    Ren nodded and squared his shoulders as if gearing up to relate something that he didn’t completely want to say, or was worried about saying. And suddenly, after spending the entire day seeking answers, she was afraid. Afraid in a way she hadn’t even been on the cliffs, or when she’d woken in the tunnel underneath the castle. Ren was going to tell her things she didn’t want to know … not yet … not now, at least.
    “Theo? What is it? Are you hurt?”
    She shook her head, but didn’t want to look into his concerned eyes, didn’t want to see the intimate way he tilted his body toward hers, didn’t want to know that she was supposed to know him. She was supposed to know him very well.
    “I’ll find you, Theo. We’ll fix this,” he whispered fervently, like he was worried someone might overhear. “Whatever is really going on. No matter the obstacle. I promise.”
    She shook her head and turned away from him.
    “Theo,” he called, with the sound of her name full of emotion she couldn’t, wouldn’t process.
    She was aware she was being manipulated from multiple directions now. She was aware that there were many things she didn’t understand, and clearly things she’d forgotten, and she was more than a little tired of feeling lost and alone, of not knowing who to trust or who to believe.
    She didn’t know Ren, didn’t know who was talking to him on the other side of the dream, and she wasn’t going to let anyone control her any longer, not even in her dreams.
    “Goodbye, Ren.” She turned and walked out of the ballroom. When she paused to look back, he wasn’t there anymore.

CHAPTER SIX

    “Her magic radiates. She gathers followers just by walking into a room. Those men, those assassins, couldn’t figure out if they wanted to kill her or drop to their knees, and they were programmed to kill by someone powerful enough to block you.”
    “Destroying a mind doesn’t take power or skill.”
    “Not the point right now. You expect me to help you corral her, and yet the roses turn their heads toward her when she laughs, like she’s the bloody sun itself.”
    “Be careful. It’s a fine line between admiration and worship.”
    “Is it? I’ve never been good a towing a dictated line.”
    “Which is exactly what makes you so valuable. Let’s just make certain it stays that way. Let the worshipers worship, while we make sure everything progresses smoothly.“
    “She’s not a puppet.”
    “I’m her mother, don’t you dare sneer at me. You wouldn’t want to be here without my blessing.”
    “Your blessing was never a factor, Apex. Even you don’t outrank a prophecy. Why don’t we consult with Theo? She’s been waiting outside the door for some time.”
    Her mother’s surprise, and then flash of anger, quickly tamped, hit Theo like a physical force as she pressed both of her palms to the library doors and pushed them open.
    Hugh stood by the windows with his back to the door, which, oddly, was the same spot she’d occupied the last time she’d been in the library to confront her mother.
    Rhea was behind her desk. She should really just cut the pretense and get a throne, though maybe she preferred the barrier the large, ornately carved, wood desk provided.
    The tension that shrouded the room only increased as she entered.
    “Theodora, you are awake. Good. Hugh and I were just discussing —”
    “I heard.” She cut off her mother’s attempt to erect a cover story, and then threw herself into a reading chair off to one side of her mother’s desk. From this vantage point, she had eyes on Hugh and her