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“Intruders!” a deep voice shouted. “Pale ones! And Ravens!” The voice was full of fear now. “We’re under attack!”

“Don’t let them get the mage!” someone bellowed. “They are here for her!”

A pale one walked around the side of the cart, and the sorrel horse attached to Layala’s cart neighed loudly. “What do we have here? A scared little she-elf? Let’s hear you scream.” He slammed his fists over and over on the wood door, rattling it so loudly it hurt her ears. Layala clenched her teeth together and moved as far away as she could. “Come here.” He reached through the bars and clawed at her. “Come here so I can have a little snack.”

Layala stooped down and picked up a handful of round goat droppings. “Have a taste of this!” she shouted and threw it in his face.

With a sharp squeal, the pale one jerked back and with pure hatred in his black eyes, he dashed to the front of the cart, and sliced through the rope holding the horse to a post. He hit the hindquarters of the horse and shrieked at the poor creature until Layala fought the urge to cover her ears. The horse lurched forward, sending Layala crashing into the back door.

No! No, she couldn’t leave this spot.

The pale one laughed as the horse, wagon, and Layala ripped by. “Scream, little elf,” the pale one said with a laugh.

Layala desperately reached for a hold on something as they slammed over bumps, sending her bouncing around like a toy doll inside. Her head smacked onto the floor of the cart and then again on the bench. Warm blood trickled down into her left eye. Damn it. She mopped it with her sleeve and pushed up, jumping for the bars. “Stop, horse!” she yelled. She didn’t want to shout for help. The wrong hero might catch her.

Tents, fires, and trees whipped by so fast everything became a blur. The sound of swords clanging rang out over the squealing of the wheels and stamping horse hooves. This horse had to come to a stop sometime soon, right? It would get tired and then hopefully it would be Thane who found her. If only they still had their mate bond, he’d be led right to her.

The momentum suddenly shifted, and they careened downhill. Great. Layala peered out the bars; there was nothing and no one around. The city of Doonafell was in the opposite direction. At her back the camp’s fire lights grew dim, and the sounds of fighting drifted away. The road they were on was so overgrown with grass that it could barely even be called a path anymore. Had she been this way before? It didn’t look familiar.

Just ahead a staked wooden sign came into view. She narrowed her eyes to read: “Warning: road ends. Cliff.”

“Shit. A cliff! A blasted cliff?” She looked around the cart she’d rummaged through for days for something to use to break free. There was nothing and the reins to control the horse were way out of reach. “Stop! Halt, you damned horse!”Doesn’t it know commands?“Halt! Whoa—Walk!” The stressed wheels squealed even louder.

She slammed her palm against the metal bars in frustration. She only had one hope left. “Thane!” she screamed and her throat burned. “Thane!” Her voice echoed off the hillside, and if that was the last word her lips ever uttered, at least it was his name.

Chapter11

Thane crouched behind a stack of wine barrels and listened to the footsteps of passing guards. Breath shallow and silent, he peeked out. He stared at a tall and wide beige canvas, and the shadow of the figures inside. One male, one female. A strange vibration flowed through him, making his skin sensitive and prickly with anticipation, fury, calm. Tenebris burst from the opening, tossing aside the tent flap.

Thane expected a furious outrage to course through him. He’d imagined this moment, where he would run forward and end his father for good, but he was surprised when it felt like a weight lifted off his chest. And the tense coiling of his gut relaxed. Why did he still love him? Why couldn’t he cling to hatred, and believe all the evil he was? Yet seeing his father’s familiar stern face, the pale-blond hair, the way his spine was always rigid, flooded Thane with ease. Tenebris was truly alive. He knew that when he’d seen him at a distance on the hillside near Castle Dredwich before everything went to hell, but now he was merely yards away, and it was indeed him. Not a delusion or a trick.

Adjusting his body armor at the neck, Tenebris lifted his chin. “She better be well guarded,” he barked at one of the guards standing next to him. “How many are there?”

“Aldrich was left in charge of her. And I’m not sure, High King.”

“Is my son among them?”

The guard was silent for a moment. He and the other three exchanged quick glances. “Prince Thane?”

“Of course, Prince Thane,” Tenebris snapped.

“We don’t know.”

“Find him and bring him to me.”

Thane’s sweaty palm gripped tighter around the sword handle. His heart crashed wildly in his chest. He was here for Layala, not retribution, but his father was so close… and yet if he went to strike him down, could he do it? Maker, the regret that wracked him for weeks, haunted his dreams was all for nothing. Could he live with that a second time?

The four guards shifted nervously. “Bring him, sire? We thought he was dead.”

“Do what you’re told, oryou’llbe dead.”

“But Prince Thane is—umm, dangerous. I don’t know how we can—”

A swift backhand cracked across the guard’s cheek. “I know what he is. I raised him, and he’s no fool. I have what he wants. He’ll come willingly to see his father.”

Tenebris wouldn’t just give Layala over, so what sort of offer could his father possibly have? He thought for sure the order would be to kill on sight. After all that transpired between them, Tenebris was willing to talk face to face? Wasn’t he worried Thane would kill him? And yet here Thane sat back on his heels, unmoving, when it would take minimal effort to take out those guards and have his father at the end of his sword. An easy, clean death. A twinge of pain in his center reminded him of the suffering both he and Layala endured these past few weeks on his father’s account. About the beatings he took as a child, and the screams of innocents on this tyrant’s account. He gritted his teeth and pushed up.

“Tenebris,” the female inside the tent called. Thane stilled at his mother’s voice, sinking back down into the shadows. “What’s going on?”