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“Do not pull rank on me. Not in this,” she bit back.

Sorin’s lip curled up, and he knew flames flickered in his eyes. “You are the only one I would trust to do this, Eliza.” The tip of the scion began glowing red hot as he held it out to her again.

Eliza held his stare for a long, tense moment before she snatched the black ashwood scion from his hand. Her voice dropped to an imperceptible whisper. “You know the risk of that Mark without a companion?”

“I do. It is one I am willing to assume.”

“I do not like this, Sorin,” she said quietly. “Cyrus is going to rip your ass.”

“It is not your call to make, and you will keep your mouth shut about it,” he retorted.

Her brows rose in surprise. “You will keep this from them?”

“For now. Do I have your word?”

“As if I have a choice,” she grumbled as she bent her head and began to work. He held steady at the burning that etched along his skin. No one spoke while she worked, and when she stepped back she said, “Speak the Claiming Rite.”

Sorin spoke in the Old Language, and the Mark on his hand flared bright, then faded to white, disappearing in this land. Eliza turned and faced the rest of the people in the room. He had filled her in last night on the change in plans to now include the prince and his two personal guards.

“Why don’t we get these three to the woods we’ll be traveling through now?” Eliza asked, her face calculating as it always got when she was going over battle strategies and planning.

“Because he will not leave without her,” Sorin answered with a glare at Callan.

“Please explain to me why others are suddenly dictating our plans?” Eliza asked coldly.

“I did not realize I answered to you,” Sorin retorted with a tight smile.

“You don’t,” she conceded, bowing her head slightly. “My apologies.” The last words had a bite that told Sorin he had just pissed the general off in such a way that a conversation would need to be had later.

He took a step towards her, his hands in his pockets. “Eliza, tensions are high. This is crucial. We can have this out once we are home. Right now I need you to—”

“We will certainly have this out when we get home,” she snapped. “I’m going to change. I will meet you there to get you in.”

Eliza turned on her heel and left the tavern room. Sorin sighed heavily in the silence that fell in the room until Nuri’s voice cut through it all. “She was fun. I liked her.”

“Is she…your lover?” Callan asked tentatively from the end of the room.

“No, Prince, she is available,” Sorin returned with a smirk. “Although, I do not think you would be able to handle any part of that female.”

The prince’s cheeks flushed slightly as he bit back, “That is not why I was inquiring, seeing as I am unavailable.”

“Did you miss the memo that Death’s Maiden is now someone else’s?” Nuri asked with a fiendish grin, stepping to Sorin’s side.

“Nuri,” Cassius warned.

“Snack before I go. It will be a while you know,” Sorin said with a wink.

Her fangs slid out once more. “Just remember that when you return, your blood shall be gone from my system and then we shall have some real fun.”

“I look forward to it,” he purred as she brought his wrist to her mouth. Her eyes went to Callan and his guards, and she sank her fangs deep into Sorin’s wrist. While she drank, he grappled for that bridge in his soul. The one that Mark Eliza had inked on him had intensified.

“She really feeds off of you?” Callan asked, his eyes wide.

“Shut up,” Sorin snarled. “I need to find her.”

“We know where she is—” Callan started.

“Hush, Callan,” Tava said, her voice soft and quiet. “Let him concentrate or this is all for naught.”