Bound By Darkness by Alexandra Ivy

my brother.” Ariyal took a cautious step forward. “That is the voice of madness whispering in your ear.”
    “Do not heed him.” The spirit abruptly spoke, shifting until he could place a gaunt hand on Tearloch’s shoulder. “Clearly he now intends to sacrifice you and your brothers to the vampires, just as he sacrificed you to Morgana le Fey.”
    A ball of sick dread lodged in the pit of Ariyal’s stomach. Bloody hell. What had Tearloch done?
    “You know he speaks lies,” he said, concentrating on the spirit who regarded him with a smug arrogance.
    “Do I?” the wizard mocked, maintaining his possessive grip on Tearloch. “You stand there with a vampire who is your obvious companion.” He glanced toward the silent Jaelyn. “Or is she your lover?”
    Instinctively he shifted to stand directly in front of Jaelyn, hiding her from the spirit’s dangerous gaze. For all her power, a vampire was always vulnerable to magic.
    Not that he knew why the hell he would bother. She was as likely to stab him in the back as to appreciate his efforts.
    For now, however, he was far more intent on his friend who was in obvious trouble.
    “Tearloch, look at me,” he commanded, the authority in his voice rippling the air and making his tribesman jerk in reaction.
    “Do not,” the wizard hissed, leaning down to whisper directly into Tearloch’s ear. “He is jealous of your powers and he knows you shall be rewarded above him once our master is returned.” His malevolent power swirled through the room with far too much force for a mere spirit, battering against Ariyal with a dangerous strength. “Why else would he be so eager to destroy the child and halt your efforts to resurrect your lord?”
    Ariyal lifted his hand, muttering a word of command in the harsh Sylvermyst language.
    A smile curved his lips as the wizard attempted to speak, his face twisting with fury when he realized that Ariyal had managed to silence him.
    “Much better,” Ariyal taunted.
    Something perilously close to fear tightened Tearloch’s expression.
    “What have you done?”
    “Brought a welcome end to the poison he is spewing.” Tearloch shifted in agitation. “Release him.”
    “Not until you have listened to sense.”
    Tearloch shook his head, moving closer to the spirit, who glared at Ariyal with a baleful intensity.
    “I listened to you once before,” the younger man breathed, “and see where that got us.”
    Ariyal flinched. Although it had been the previous prince’s decision to accept Morgana’s bargain, he’d offered his full support, which had swayed more than a few into agreeing to break ties with the Dark Lord.
    “You would prefer to have been banished with the others?” he asked.
    The younger Sylvermyst glanced toward the spirit, almost as if seeking the answer to Ariyal’s question.
    “We should have remained pure,” he at last muttered. Ariyal forced himself to crush the angry accusations that trembled on his lips. Tearloch was clinging to sanity by a thread.
    He didn’t intend to snap it.
    “Tearloch,” he said, his tone low and soothing, “when did you first call this particular spirit?”
    Tearloch blinked in bewilderment. “I don’t remember. What does it matter?”
    “You better than anyone understand the dangers of calling upon the same spirit too often,” Ariyal pointed out. Every Sylvermyst was taught to limit their contact with spirits. Not only was there a danger of becoming emotionally attached to the ghost, but there was always the nasty possibility that the spirit might manage to twist the relationship so that they became the master rather than the servant. “Especially such a powerful spirit.”
    “No, you’re just trying to deceive me.”
    “I’m not the one trying to deceive you, brother,” Ariyal murmured softly, inching closer. “But together we can make this right.”
    Tearloch blinked, his silver eyes focusing on his friend. “Ariyal?”
    “Yes, old friend, we have fought side by