Chapter1

Rain pelted the stone tower, drumming the rooftop like tiny fairy feet dancing overhead. The aroma of drenched earth drifted inside the window, fresh and wild. Layala loved that smell. It used to fill her with peace and calm. But not that, nor the beauty of the moon’s pale light breaking through the dark clouds could penetrate the pain anymore. The smile it used to draw was stolen by a dragon’s hand shoved through the body of her lover. She rubbed her aching temples, then picked up her only comfort, a dirty cerulean pillow. It smelled like ages of dust, but she held it against her middle, hugging it for warmth. She ignored the straw poking through the scratchy, hole-ridden sheet beneath her. The irritation of it was a reminder she was still alive.

Come to me. I need you.

“Thane,” she whimpered as that deep, soothing voice echoed in her mind again. Was it possible to hear him with their mate bond stolen and erased? Or was her own mind playing cruel tricks? She didn’t know, but it only prodded at the pain throbbing in her chest.

Come to me. Please.

“I can’t,” she whimpered, letting her face fall onto the pillow. Her teeth chattered with the chilly breeze and the spray of icy droplets hitting her skin through the single open window, dampened her clothes. This circular gray stone room became a prison, the miserable color as depressing as the autumn rains. The only ways out were the window with a seventy-foot drop, and the solid door, always locked from the outside. Always.

“Remember the colorful blossoms of summer on the darkest days of winter. Remember the smells of lavender and citrus, and sweet smiles, for they will get you through that endless night,”Layala whispered to herself. Aunt Evalyn would say that whenever the hard days threatened to win. She didn’t understand what it meant as a child, especially since Briar Hollow didn’t have long or dark winters. But she wholly understood it now—this was an endless nightmare, one she desperately wanted to wake up from.

Tears slipped out of her dry eyes and over-chapped lips. She was surprised she had any tears left. How many days had it been? One sunrise melted into the next. Days and weeks became a blur. How much time had passed since Thane sent that note? “I’m coming for you, Laya.”How many days had she gone without food or water? Was it weeks now? She couldn’t remember.

I need you,came that whisper. Was his voice taunting her now a hallucination—was he even real anymore?

The door creaked open. The same auburn-haired soldier who came each sunrise, afternoon, and after sunset, stepped inside. His sword swung at his side tonight, rather than ready to strike. They both knew she was too weak to attack him now, as she’d tried in the past. Whistling a morbidly cheerful tune, he walked across the creaky floorboards. Neither of them ever uttered a word. This was the only person she’d had contact with in weeks, and she didn’t even know his name. He was tall, slender but stronger than her by a shameful margin and he had weapons he wasn’t afraid to use.

Lying on her side, Layala didn’t move as he jabbed the barb into her arm to keep her magic at bay. The clinking of the metal chamber pot as he touched it with his boot echoed like a gong within the domed ceiling. He grumbled a nonchalant “huh” and left it. She hadn’t needed to use it in a couple days. There was nothing left in her. If she were human, she’d be dead.

The door clicked shut, the quiet scrape of the lock slid into place, and she sat up. She stared at the back of the dark wood, covered in thin scratches and gouges. She could almost hear the echoes of her own screams even now. Glancing down at her fingernails, Layala’s chin quivered. They were broken, splintered, and dried blood covered her hands.

The physical pain, even the excruciating hunger and thirst, wasn’t even the worst part; it was not knowing where Thane was, not being able tofeelhim. Or not knowing what happened to Piper and Fennan and Tifapine. Did Tenebris burn Briar Hollow? Did he have Aunt Evalyn, and would he kill her?

Her only hope was that he would keep them alive so he could use them to manipulate Layala, and Thane would come before then. He must come…

“Remember the colorful blossoms of summer on the darkest days—” her voice broke, and her body shook in silent sobs. Hope? What was hope anymore? She touched her chest for that familiar, worn piece of paper she kept tucked in her bosom.

She shot up, panic suddenly raking her chest. She pawed at the cot, searching for the only proof she had that Thane was alive when they insisted he was dead. The half-moon’s light shone in through the window just bright enough to see but the shadows were menacing.

“Where is it?” Her trembling hands left streaks of fresh blood the harder she scraped the fabric, searching.

She slid her feet to the floor and dropped to her knees to look under the four-inch gap the bed stood from the stone.Where is it?!Maybe seeing Thane dead broke her mind. Maker above, what if she imagined the note? She saw his crumbled, bloody body with a hole in his stomach… He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe…

She crawled to the window, pushing up to weak legs, until she latched onto the ledge. She groaned under the pressure of pulling herself up. Her heart crashed until it ached.I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.Finally breaching the opening in her stone cage, she lay her chest across the ledge, one arm hanging out the window to the seventy-foot drop below, the other clutching the inside stone. A blast of cold wind hit her face and icy droplets shocked her out of panic.

“Thane where are you?” she whispered, staring down at the guards walking the pristine paths below. Were they completely oblivious to her or did they not care their supposed savior was locked up in misery? At some point someone must have heard her screams.

She cupped her hands, hoping for enough rain to quench her parched throat. The sprinkles were enough to wet her skin, but nature was a tease. Still, she greedily licked the moisture from her palm.

With a shaky breath, she tilted her head to look back inside. The small, crumpled piece of paper, her small bit of hope, lay next to the foot post of the bed. Shoving away from the wall, she dove for it and held it to her chest. On her knees, she straightened it and read the beautiful script:

I’m coming for you, Laya.

~ Thane

She climbed into the bed, tucked the note back in her top and finally slept.

The creak of hinges penetrated Layala’s slumber. Her crusted eyes opened to the hint of morning sunshine, bathing the room in warmth after a cold dark night. Light footsteps quickened her pulse. That was not the gait of her usual guard. She didn’t move, barely allowed herself to breathe. She curled in on herself more, holding the small blue pillow. She hated that she’d become this, cowering like a small child afraid of monsters, but even the effort to crawl to the window the night before left her weak.

She caught a glimpse of blond hair, and it felt like her stomach leapt into her throat.No, not him. Not him.Nightmares of King Tenebris’s ghoulish face standing over the dead bloody bodies of her parents, looming over Thane, cackling like an old crone, flooded her dreams. He’d grip her by her hair, tearing strands from her scalp, and scream at her to look at them. “Face what you have done!” She watched herself from far away, eyes slammed shut, trembling in his grasp, sobbing, pleading for him to stop.

She dragged in a deep breath,that’s not real. Not real.

“Layala.” It was Aldrich’s voice. Did he sound almost—sorrowful?

She opened one eye slowly, then the other to make sure it was him. His blond hair was tied back in a tight bun that made his face more severe. His pointed ears seemed sharper. How did she ever miss the resemblance to Tenebris? He looked just like him. His once wide, bright eyes looked heavy as they took in her appearance. His lips pressed together, and he reached toward her.