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I’m tempted to try out my powers right now, but a healthy dose of fear keeps me quiet. I’m afraid that if I glamour one of these guys prematurely and it doesn’t work, the guards will stop me from getting another opportunity.

“My view is pretty limited at the moment, but yeah, I’ll let you know.” It’s silent for a beat. “Is it true then, what they say about a siren’s voice?”

My mouth forms a grim line. “It’s true.”

“Your idea will probably get you killed.”

I guffaw. “You prefer the alternative?”

I hear Aetherial’s husky laughter. “I was right about you. Stupid and courageous.”

Neither of us speak again until a series of guards approach a cell across the way, one of them carrying two large poles over his shoulder. At the back of the cell, a fae woman with flame red hair lies limp on her pallet.

The bars to her cell slide back, the metal scraping along its tracks.

The guards file inside the cell, and the guard carrying the poles snaps them open. That’s when I realize I’m not staring atpoles, per se, but a crude gurney. A stained wisp of cloth is stretched between the two shafts.

They set the gurney on the ground, then grab the woman, situating her body on the flimsy material.

Then, as one, the two prison guards lift the gurney and cart her out. I watch them until they’re out of range.

“They remove the lifeless ones,” Aetherial says from the cell over, clearly watching alongside me.

They’re paralyzing the women.

“Stay here long enough,” Aetherial continues, “it’ll happen to you too.”

I frown, even though she can’t see it.

All those sleeping women in Des’s kingdom, all the paralyzed ones here … it can’t be a coincidence.

Which means—

I think I know who the Thief of Souls is.

Karnon.

This time whenI’m deposited in what I can only presume to be Karnon’s room, I know what to expect. The ominous press of air, the silent retreat of the guards, Karnon’s approach.

I’m once again shackled and blinded, completely at the whim of the monstrous fae king. However, the moment he speaks, something about our dynamic feels different.

“My precious bird, theyblindedyou,” he says, aghast. A moment later his claws slash through the material, leaving the cloth hanging in ribbons around my neck.

“Beautiful creature,” he murmurs, taking me in. His nostrils flare as his gaze rakes over me. “Human … butnot. Creature of the heavens and the sea.”

His gaze halts at my hands. “Shackles too? This is preposterous. You are my guest.”

He rips the iron cuffs binding my wrists clear apart, hissing as he does so. I startle at the show of strength. I assumed he was powerful, but seeing a live demonstration is sobering.

“Cursed metal!” he spits out as the cuffs hits the ground. He clenches his fists, and I can hear his skin sizzling.

Iron burns.

In spite of the pain, he reaches between my ankles and rips apart the cuffs there as well, howling once again at the pain.

This is what the warriors endured when they wore these?

A guard pokes his head in. “Your Majest—”