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“I’m sure we’ll meet again, Father,” I spat, keeping it short and sweet.

At last, I reached the door and punched in the code, silently thanking Cotton for thinking ahead when he had written it down for me to memorize in the event things went wrong—which they had. I yanked it open.

I winced. The dim light in the corridor blinded me as my eyes adjusted from the emptiness of the interrogation room.

But then I ran.

I sprinted past the cells that detained decaying prisoners and ignored their pleas for freedom.

The elevator loomed ahead, so I pushed my body to its brink to reach it. I didn’t look behind me, fearing Grim or my father were on my heels. The cuffs needed to be removed as soon as possible.

If I could get to Cotton…

I pounded the elevator button in violent desperation, wishing I could coerce the defective box to move at the speed I needed it to. I bounced on the soles of my bare feet while I waited, still wearing the gold dress from the revel.

The heavy door boomed at the end of the corridor. Startled, I jerked my head to glance over my shoulder. My heart lurched to my throat at the sight of Grim sprinting toward me with blood flowing from his nose, painting his throat.

There were only five more floors before the elevator reached me. I tightened my grip on the knife’s hilt and spun to face Grim. I couldn’t allow him to catch me by surprise again.

He continued to close the distance. Although my wrists were bound in front of me, I fell into a defensive stance,

The elevator dinged—the biggest fucking mercy I’d received since the moment I confronted Griffin Silas. I backed myself into the metal box, focused on the racing Grim. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched him draw closer.

The elevator doors inched shut with a metallic clang. I slapped the button for one floor above, to the basement where I was to meet Scarlett.

I let air fill my lungs and dropped my head against the elevator wall during the brief ride to the training room. The king hadn’t had time to alert the guards, so I’d be free to grab the needed supplies. With my magic inhibited, I wasn’t able to signal Scarlett, Cotton, and Hazel that my task was done.

I hoped to find them and get what I needed to flee. And if not, then I’d do what I did best: go at it alone.

Chapter 11

Gray

Idashed from the elevator in search of Scarlett.

Guards patrolled each floor of the King’s Palace, so I remained vigilant, knowing my bound wrists would raise suspicion.

In the training room, several Kinetics warmed up on dummies, sharpened their blades, and built up their energetic magic in designated areas. I disregarded them as I jogged past. But paranoia soon set in as I felt each set of eyes land on me. Their scrutinizing stares slid over my cuffed wrists as I ran in a haphazard frenzy. Time was running out.

Scarlett said she’d be where the blades were stored, so I cut through the aisle leading to the weapons. I had been held up with my father and Grim for almost an hour, well past the timeframe I was due to meet up with her. I prayed she was still there.

The blades were stationed at the opposite end of the training room. I couldn’t help but wonder what I looked like to the random Kinetic, with sweat smearing my makeup and dried blood caking my skin. My hair looked as if it housed a family of armadillos—not exactly a princessly look.

I reached the end of the training room. To my right, a stout warrior—with pink and white dual-toned hair pulled back into a low bun—stood watch. He spotted me and paused his movements with anunnatural grace for a man his size. Neither of us flinched. We stood frozen in silence, daring the other to make the first move. I noticed the sword strapped to his back and glanced down at my cuffed wrists.

Fuck.

“Gray!” Scarlett’s voice snatched me from the silent standoff. “Oh, for shit’s sake! Where have you been?” Scarlett spun me around by the shoulders to face her. It only took a glimpse of my stiff posture for her attention to land on my wrists.

With a quiet curse, Scarlett grabbed my biceps and dragged me away.

“Hey!” the warrior called to our backs.

We didn’t stop, not even to glance over our shoulders at the skeptical warrior looming behind us. “Stop!”

“Fuck off, you brute!” Scarlett said without hitching a step.

A low-grade burn simmered on my skin, like a light sunburn but soon built into agonizing pain. I stumbled and cried out, dropping to a knee.