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“Answering my questions with a question is annoying,” she grumbled.

After several minutes of silence, she sighed and got to her feet. This was pointless.

But as she took her first step away from him, he spoke again. “You are not supposed to be here.”

“You already said that,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder.

He shook his head, the chain connecting his collar to the wall clanking. “No, Tessalyn. You are not supposed to behere. She thought she could hide you here, but he always knows.”

Tessa turned back to face him again, her palms pressing to the glass. “Enough with the cryptic innuendos,” she snapped, light flaring and energy crackling, bleeding into the magic of the glass. “Who are you?”

“That’s her fury too,” he said, and Tessa could swear there was a fondness in his voice.

“That does not answer the question,” she retorted. “You know my name. It is only right that I should know yours.”

“I cannot tell you,” he said with a mocking look she knew all too well.

“Cannot or will not?”

He shrugged. “The latter, I suppose.”

She huffed in annoyance.

“But know this, daughter of wild and fury,” he said, holding her gaze. “They will use you if you let them.”

“You think I do not know that?”

“You believe your destiny is set, but you do not realize you stand at a crossroads,” he went on. “Salvation or destruction, the choice is yours.”

“How do you know that saying?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

“The path you are on is destruction,” was his answer.

“And the path to salvation?” she countered harshly.

He shifted again, settling back and seeming to get comfortable once more. “The path to salvation has always been death.”