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“I’m sorry about your wife,” Alex said to Gaiel. “And your daughter.”

“Vaera is strong, she will survive this. She must.”

Alex only half noticed his lowered, determined voice because she was stuck on the name he’d shared. “Vaera?”

Gaiel peered across at her as they walked, catching the tone in her voice. “You know my daughter?”

“Not well,” Alex said, thinking of the few times she’d crossed paths with the steely-eyed Meyarin: in the past as an ambassador and interpreter for the humans, and in the present as one of the palace guards. “But she certainly does seem strong. Once we figure out how to save everyone from Aven, you’ll be back with her in no time.”

Alex wasn’t sure where she’d managed to pull the optimism from, but she was somehow able to make it sound sincere.

Gaiel seemed grateful and apologised again for the way he’d treated her since first arriving in Draekora. But despite his request for forgiveness and his pleasant enough company, Alex still felt on edge around him and was relieved when they reached the end of their journey. She swiftly summoned the return doorway, keen to be away from the now congenial Meyarin. With his separation from his daughter, his excuses for his hostile behaviour were justified, to a degree, but he still wasn’t Alex’s favourite person, and she doubted he ever would be.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

After a nod from Gaiel, Alex stepped towards the doorway, desperate to get back to the academy and cuddle up in bed with Soraya.

“Oh, Alexandra, one last thing,” Gaiel said just as Alex had one foot through the door.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Ye—”

He blew a handful of dark powder straight into her face, and before Alex could finish speaking, let alone figure out what had happened, she collapsed to the icy ground, out like a light.

Thirty

Alex awoke in a cell.

It was dark, and not from the limited lighting or because it was still night-time, though she had no way of knowing if that was true. It was dark because the cell itself was made out oftraesos, pure darkness pulled from theabrassa.

Seeing her black crystalline surroundings, Alex broke out in a nervous sweat, because she knew exactly where she was—Taevarg, the Meyarin prison. And by the looks of things, in Niyx’s old cell, with its door still melted from when she’d freed him nearly three weeks ago.

Bound by Moxyreel, Alex was chained and hanging in the middle of the room. Her arms were stretched out above her head and her legs spread wide, her limbs secured by the thin wire as if she had frozen mid-star-jump. Even her fingers were wrapped tightly together, keeping her from summoning A’enara.

Trying not to think about why she was inTaevargor what she would face if she didn’t escape, Alex strained against her bindings, struggling for some wriggle room. All she needed was to free one hand enough to grip her weapon and cut herself loose. But it was useless, the Moxyreel unyielding. She needed help—and she needed itnow.

Niyx!Alex cried.Niyx, I’m in trouble!

Kitten, whatever it is, I’m sorry, but it’ll have to wait, Niyx returned quickly.I’m with Aven—he says there’s something importanthe has to do and he’s hand-picked a few of us to be with him. He’s… deliriously happy.

Niyx—

We’re atTaevarg.Arrived a few moments ago, Niyx cut in.There’s a prisoner here he wants to see. I’m sorry, kitten, but I have to concentrate or I’ll blow my cover.

The blood drained from Alex’s face.No, no, no, Niyx! The prisoner, it’s—

Before she could say ‘me’, Aven stepped through the melted door, and on his heels were Calista Maine, the tattooed Gerald Togen, Marcus Sparker, another human Alex hadn’t met and three armed guards—ClaimedZeltora, Alex presumed, seeing the weapons they bore. Niyx brought up the rear of the group, and upon stepping into the cell, stilled at the sight of Alex strung up in the centre.

His dread was palpable, but he managed to unfreeze before anyone else noticed, moving woodenly forward while screaming a wide variety of curse words through their bond. But Alex barely heard him, because her attention was on Meya’s new king standing before her, a wide smirk on his face.

“Alexandra,” Aven said, “as always, a unique… pleasure.”

Alex closed her eyes as his honeyed voice washed over her. If she didn’t look at him, it was easy to imagine his younger self, the Meyarin he’d been before he’d turned into a raging murderer. The Aven who had been her friend.

But when she opened her eyes again, the memory was replaced with fear so acute she could almost taste it. She was completely at his mercy. Even if Niyx chose to reveal his true loyalties, it would be eight against one as he fought to free her. Impossible odds, given theZeltorawarriors, the gifted humans and Aven himself.

“You mustn’t blame Gaiel,” Aven said. “He only did what he thought he must, and he has been rewarded for bringing you to me.” He cocked his head. “Of course, it wasn’t quite the reward he believed he would receive. But he shall be content here with us, especially now that he has been reunited with his daughter.”

Alex’s bound hands flexed as they tried and failed to ball into fists, the Moxyreel tightening painfully against her wrists. In a shaking voice she hoped sounded more angry than terrified, she said, “You Claimed him, didn’t you?”