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“NO!” the Queen shouts in return.

And though he wishes for nothing more than to snap her neck, he knows he cannot kill her. Not if he wishes to live. He will not be freed should he become responsible for her death. He has very little with which to barter, and he feels his energy waning quickly. A lancing pain suddenly strikes him, and he is forced to shunt her away, letting her fall to the ground on top of her guards. There is a clamour as they try to support her fall, checking her for injury.

It gives Ryon time to set his feet to the ground, his body curling inward to the stitched hole in his chest. His wings vanish, spent. The magic holding him together retreats, tapped and useless. Rage can only get him so far in this condition.

“Open the fucking gate.”

Queen Alvira growls, ripping her arms out of the guards’ reach. They crowd her, not allowing her to come so close to the prisoner again. “I should have you quartered,” she seethes. “Vilebeast!”

Ryon throws his hands to the iron rungs, making them shudder. “Try it,” he spits.

The Queen runs her fingers hastily through her frazzled hair. “Or,” she says acidly. “Perhaps I’ll have your lovely Miss Sabar found first.”

Ryon’s hands tense. He turns cold.

“My guards are searching for her as we speak, and I dare say they will find her. What is the name of your accomplice again? Salem? Shall I have my guards pay a visit? The punishment for harbouring a fugitive will be great indeed. I do hope, for his sake, he has the sense to hide. Him and any other in this valley who seek to help her.”

Ryon’s teeth grind.A despicable excuse for a queen,he thinks. Would she really raze innocent households in search of one woman? Dawsyn knows no one in Terrsaw, save Salem. If she ran in search of sanctuary, it was likely to him, to the inn.

“Just how loyal do you think your friend will be to his new fledgling?” the Queen continues. “Do you think he woulddieto protect her?”

The Queen has learnt of Salem, perhaps Esra and Baltisse, too. There is no telling how much the palace knows, how readily his friends will be killed for their alliance with him.

“But I needn’t disturb another soul,” the Queen adds. “If I had some direction on which course she may have taken. Perhaps I could be guided away from those who needn’t be harmed. What say you, half-breed? Should I have the guards ransack every house and establishment until I find her, or could you save them the tumult? These things have a habit of leading to accidents, false accusations… tragedy, even.”

Ryon watches the Queen’s guards grow uncertain. Restless. He wonders if the Queen usually speaks so fervently, so candidly in their presence.

“Where is she, Ryon?” the Queen presses, inching closer, despite herself. “You know her, do you not? Where would she go? Tell me, and no one else need suffer for her or you. Is she with that lout, Salem? Would she take to the seas?”

A memory impedes his thoughts then – a tumultuous current, a tempest crawling to shore. His hands itching to wrap Dawsyn up in himself and carry her toward the horizon, toward safety and peace.

Not yet,she had said.

Ryon’s eyes close. He knows it will not be sanctuary she seeks. It will be the Ledge.

Not yet,she whispers again, her voice so clear to him.

He opens his eyes. “You think I would give her up so easily?” Ryon asks, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating off the walls.

The Queen’s eyes flare. “What if I sweetened the deal?”

“I’ll make no deals with you.”

“Not even for your own life?”

“Especiallynot for my life!” he growls, and the guards blanch once more. “You once tried to make a deal with me to kill Dawsyn Sabar. I allowed you to keep breathing that time, I will not be so generous the next.”

The Queen’s lips tremble with her indignation, her rage. “Then I will find her without you, and I will have you watch as she dies by my hand.”

But Ryon only laughs, low and dark, and the stale air is drenched in his bloodlust. “I’ll take pleasure in watching you try.”

Her hands hit the bars with remarkable force, the metal clanging in its stone recesses. She shrieks like a child, skin aflame with ire.

Ryon hears her quaking breaths as she fights to regain her composure. He enjoys the spectacle – seeing every refined facet of her shattered into something inhumane.

Queen Alvira snaps at her guards. “Shackle him,” she says. “Captain, bring a horse and cart. You will take him to the town square. Let us see if we can dangle him and tempt the girl out of hiding. In the meantime, the people of Terrsaw can redirect their energies. If it is justice they want, perhaps a half-breed will suffice. Make sure you bind him tightly to theFallen Woman.Cut off his wings if you must.” Her bosom heaves, eyes wild. “Let the people hack their piece of retribution from him.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN