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My stomach clenched. I’d been dreading this moment since I’d awoken in this damned cell.

“Open it,” he ordered the guard, and his milky-eyed slave was quick to comply.

Magic pulled at my center. Purple energy glowed in my palms. I conjured a three-headed serpent and sent it lunging at the door.

Idris snapped his fingers, flicking a small ball of energy at my creation, and it vanished in an instant.

I sagged in my chains. I’d figured there was a reason he’d neglected to collar me with a torque.

“Cute.” He smirked, striding into the dank space.

Gaze glinting with a disturbing light, he scanned my form. “Sweet Runa. It’s so good to have you back with us. I knew it was only a matter of time.”

“Aw, did you miss me?” I pouted.

“Desperately.” He sighed in a mocking way. “Tell me. What is my bastard sibling up to these days?”

“Ah. Figured that out, did you?”

Last time I’d seen Idris was in the pit. Custodis had shattered beneath the dragon’s fire, turning into a golden god while the false king had cowered beneath his royal chair. Apparently, Idris made the connection.

“I am curious.” He narrowed his eyes. “At what point did you become aware of our familial tie?”

“Not soon enough, sadly.” It was a shame Yaga hadn’t bothered to inform me my captive was, in fact, the lost king.

Yaga. My heart pinched.

“Right.” Idris slithered closer, planting his hand on the wall beside my head. “And where exactly is my brother now?”

I pinned my eyes over his shoulder. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Spoken like a jilted lover,” he purred.

“Hardly,” I scoffed, hoping he couldn’t detect the skip in my pulse. “I’m certain Custodis is long gone.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He toyed with a lank curl of my lavender hair. “See, there’s the pesky issue of the prophecy.”

“That old thing.” I snorted.

“Yes.” His grip on my hair tightened. “That old thing.”

I hitched a shoulder as much as my restraints allowed. “Custodis has his own agenda and little interest in your throne.” Nor me, it would seem.

“See. I want to trust you, but it’s a chance I simply cannot take.” Ruthless fingers gripped the top of my head, slamming my skull against the stone. “Tell me where he is.”

Stars sparked in my vision, and my scalp screamed. “I don’t know,” I shouted.

“I don’t believe you,” he shouted back, saliva spraying my face. “In fact, I’m rather certain he wouldn’t travel far from his fated mate.”

Laughter spilled from my lips. “You’re so stupid. You know nothing.”

Idris’s palm exploded against my cheek. Pain detonated inside my skull. Bells clanged in my ears.

I tongued the cut in my cheek, snarling, “I am not his fated anything. He couldn’t care less about me.”

“That isn’t how it looked in the final challenge.” Golden energy crackled in his palm, and a magical image formed. In it was a picture of the finale. Tiny Runa stood before the fierce dragon, moments away from being burned to death. Then, the image shifted to a view of Victor on his floating platform. His face contorted into an expression of rage, possession gleaming in his glowing gaze. Peering down at me below, he bellowed a war cry and leaped from the relative safety of his platform.

He didn’t fall.