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Beatrix gave a slight nod of her head as she began walking to the bedroom door. “Summon me immediately if she wakes or if something appears wrong.”

“I will.”

When Beatrix had left, Sorin grabbed an extra blanket from the chaise lounge near the balcony doors and settled into one of the overstuffed chairs. The panther, seeming to accept that someone else was now present to watch over Scarlett, leapt to the floor, stretched with a wide yawn, and vanished in a flash of silver light. Sorin was asleep within minutes.

CHAPTER 2

CALLAN

Crown Prince Callan paced around the spacious guest quarters he had been provided. His personal guards and friends, Finn and Sloan, occupied the quarters with him. It was a three-bedroom suite, complete with a sitting room and a game room. Each bedroom had its own bathing chamber and dressing room.

“You’re acting like a caged mountain cat,” Finn muttered from where he was stretched out on the sofa with a book in his hands. Sloan was sitting at the dining table, finishing his breakfast.

“We have been here five days, and no one has given me any update on her,” Callan growled. The last time Callan had seen Scarlett she had been bleeding out on a couch after being stabbed in the side.

Until her shadows had exploded, sending everyone in the room flying into tables and walls. Then he’d been ushered out by two others that hardly spoke to him. They’d been dumped here and had been all but ignored since.

“I really don’t think she is yours to worry about anymore,” Sloan said gruffly from his place at the table.

“You wouldn’t care,” Callan snapped. “You never liked her.”

“You’re right. I never liked the assassin that managed to elude us at every turn, sneaking into your rooms and bed,” Sloan agreed, taking a bite of his toasted bread and marmalade.

“If you had bothered to try to talk to her rather than snap at her at every turn, maybe you would have,” Callan answered. “She and Finn get along just fine.”

“Do not bring me into this,” Finn said from the couch, turning the page of his book.

Callan resumed his pacing. This was ridiculous. They’d been allowed out of their quarters, of course. They weren’t prisoners, but they weren’t exactly allowed to go where they liked either. In fact, they weren’t allowed in any part of the western side of the palace.

They had been shown very little of the Prince of Fire’s palace. They had seen a dining room, the eastern gardens, and the great hall. The basics of any palace. He had thought his castle was grand, but this put it to shame. A river ran through the middle of the building. A godsdamned river.

The guest quarters were on the eastern side of the river. They had seen the bridges that crossed to the western part, but they had been stopped when they had made to cross them. Apparently, the private wing of the palace lay on that side, and he could only assume that was where Sorin had her.

This was absurd. He was a crowned prince. He would not be denied information he desired.

He strode for the main door, and Finn and Sloan shot to their feet behind him.

“Where are you going?” Finn sighed, sliding his feet into boots.

“To get information,” Callan answered, flinging the door open. He heard Sloan and Finn cussing behind him. He didn’t bother to wait as he strode down the hallway. He knew the way to the main foyer well enough by now. He rounded a corner and heard a clipped, cultured, feminine voice from behind them.

“My, my. Where are our guests off to in such a hurry?”

Callan turned to find a woman—no, a female—striding towards them down the hallway. Eliza. The female had traveled with them from Baylorin,apparently having been harboring a secret identity while there, just like the Fire Prince had.

Eliza's hair was a brilliant shade of red-gold, and it hung in sweeping curls down her back. Tattoos that had not been there before whorled around her chest and down her bare arms beneath the sleeveless tunic she was wearing. Apparently, their absence was part of some glamour that was put on them in the mortal kingdoms. Callan didn’t quite understand it all. Weapons adorned her no matter where you looked. Her gray eyes studied him as she drew nearer. She was beautiful, yes, but also terrifying. He had rarely seen her since they’d arrived, and when he did, it was quick, short conversations as she was passing by.

Callan straightened as she stopped in front of him. “I am going to see how Scarlett is doing.”

“You can certainlytryto go and see her,” she said with a smirk. Challenge gleamed in her eyes, and he saw Finn and Sloan casually put their hands on their weapons.

“You would keep her from me?”

“I would do no such thing. By all means,” she said, gesturing with her hand. “Go ahead.”

“All right,” Callan said with uncertainty, glancing to Finn and Sloan. “Thank you.” He began walking, and the female fell into step beside him. She was silent as she walked with them. Awkwardly silent. “So you are his general? It is not a fake title likehiswas?”

“That I am,” she answered. Short. Direct.