Page 157

F rom far off, Adric heard Rosana arguing with Langdon. Was aware of other people in the room, too, all men.

Get the fuck away from her.

His vocal cords vibrated in a growl that only he heard. He tried to rise but couldn’t.

Rough hands lifted him, conveyed him down first one flight of stairs, then another. Pain jolted through his head, down his spine. He gritted his teeth and bore it. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him groaning.

The movement halted. The hands released him and he fell to the floor. His head bounced. A white light exploded behind his eyes. The pain reached a screaming pitch and he passed out.

For a time, everything was blissfully dark. But gradually, sensation returned, and with it the knowledge that Rosana needed him.

He clawed his way back to consciousness.

Cold. Dank.

Hard stone beneath his body.

The musical trickle of water.

Rosana’s scent, and the murmur of her voice.

A soft thigh beneath his head…and his head pounding like a motherfucker.

“You do love me,” she said. “You’re just afraid to admit it.”

“Mmph.” He wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or disagreeing, but he did know that he needed to see her.

He forced his eyes open. He was on his back with his head on Rosana’s lap. The room was so dark he could barely see a foot in front of his face. His eyes went night-glow.

Rosana gave a tremulous smile, her own irises a luminous aquamarine in the shadowy light. “You’re awake.”

He grunted, the only sound he could manage right then.

He hurt everywhere. His muscles. His bones. His fingers. His face. Even his toes twinged when he gave them an experimental flex.

But the worst was his head. He fingered his right temple.

He vaguely recalled Langdon slamming him face-first into the desk.

The blow had reverberated through his skull and down his vertebrae.

He was lucky the prick hadn’t broken his neck.

Thankfully, the wound had already scabbed over, his body drawing on his quartz to speed his healing.

But after that, he didn’t recall much. In fact, he couldn’t remember exactly how Rosana had come to be involved.

“How long…was I out?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Fuck.” He tried to lift his head off her lap and froze as the dull throbbing in his brain spiked.

“Shh. Don’t move.” Rosana guided him back onto her thigh. “Rest.”

She smoothed a palm over his eyes and nose, down to his chin. The pain eased. His eyelids drifted shut. He nuzzled her hand, both man and cat wanting nothing but to drift off again.

He forced his eyes to open. “Where?” he asked through swollen lips.

“Still in Langdon’s lair—a level below the foyer. A prison cell. The door is solid wood reinforced with iron, and there are no windows, just a slot at the top of the door. They didn’t bother with a bed, either. Or heat.”

His throat worked. “Sorry.”

It was coming back to him now. Discovering that Rosana was the night fae’s prisoner, rushing to her rescue. He’d have pulled it off if the prince hadn’t tossed that damn powder at him. Its bitter scent still clung to his skin.

How the fuck had Langdon known he was there? He’d been careful to stick close to Luc. But he’d been angry with Luc and terrified for Rosana. He must’ve been leaking emotion, especially when he found Rosana alone with the bastard.

And now they were locked in an underground cell. His heart punched at his rib cage. A cold sweat prickled his skin.

The Darktime.

A dank cell concealed beneath Leron’s den. The clanmates who disappeared below never to be seen again. The pervasive scent of fear, as if it had soaked into the very stones.

And the growing conviction that it was only a matter of time before Leron found an excuse to throw him in the cell…or worse, Marjani.

The teenage Adric had tried to appease his uncle, but Leron had seen how the younger clan members turned to his nephew. Hell, he’d known before Adric that he was alpha material.

So Leron had set out to break him.

One by one, everyone Adric loved had been stolen from him. His dad. His mom. Jace’s sister. Until the only ones left were a few stubbornly loyal friends like Zuri, Jace, Luc—and Marjani.

That was when his uncle had made his fatal mistake. Go after Adric, and he would’ve endured it until he was strong enough to challenge for alpha.

But go after Marjani, and all bets were off.

“It’s not your fault.” Rosana’s voice yanked him back to the present. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

He unclenched his jaw, forced himself to inhale.

“Yes, I do. Luc…was ordered…take me, not you. But when he saw you…figured he’d save me…give you to Blaer instead. Last night…should’ve made you…go home.”

The caresses stopped. “So you knew Luc was outside your den.”

“What?” His brow lowered. “No.”

“Then this is on Luc, not you. You didn’t tell him to take me instead of you, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then how is it your fault?”

He set a hand to his head. He knew he was right. Rosana wouldn’t be here if not for him. “You…my guest, in my territory…and…I’m alpha.”

“Which makes you the leader, not a god. Luc isn’t even a member of your clan anymore.”

He blinked. Nobody but Marjani took that no-nonsense tone with him.

“Now shut up and rest.” Rosana touched her lips to his forehead. “Concentrate on healing. Because we need you better if we’re going to get out of here—and we are getting out of here.”

His mouth quirked despite the swelling. “Yes, ma’am.”

She was right. Beating up on himself wasn’t helping anything.

He drew more deeply on his quartz to increase the rate of healing. It would drain the crystals, rendering them useless for a few hours, but it couldn’t be helped. In this condition, he was no use to anyone.

He dozed, catlike, relaxed yet aware of his surroundings. Rosana was quiet, too, her hand resting on his shoulder.

An hour or two passed before he opened his eyes, cautiously lifted his head. This time, the pain wasn’t so bad.

“Luc?” His gaze skimmed the cell, confirming what he already knew. The wolf fada wasn’t with them.

“He’s okay,” Rosana assured him. “When they took us away, he was just coming around. But I don’t know what they did with him.”

“Probably sent him back to Blaer.”

“Oh.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Woman’s not right in the head.” Still—“Not right to drag you into this. When I found out…could’ve hurt him myself.”

Rosana resumed stroking his face. He let out a grateful sigh. It felt so good.

“It’s okay,” she said. “If I was under a geas to Blaer, I might’ve done the same thing. I saw how she treats him. She grabbed his quartz and it hurt . And she just smiled. She was feeding on his pain.”

“Fuck.” His stomach clenched. Gods, he hated feeling so damn powerless. “If I could break the geas for him, I would.”

But Luc had given his word. He’d serve out his time, or die. That’s how he was.

Rosana squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

Taking her hand, he brought her fingers to his lips in silent thanks.

She leaned down to brush her lips over his. “Thirsty?” When he dipped his chin in assent, she eased his head from her lap and reached for the cup. “Be right back.”

Just moving that tiny amount sent another jolt through his skull. But he made himself turn over, then pushed himself up to sitting, slowly, painfully. Halfway up, his stomach rebelled at the change in position, and he had to pause to ride the nausea out. He set his teeth and breathed through it.

By the time Rosana returned, he had his back against the wall, legs stretched in front of him. That was better. He felt more clear-headed. Less vulnerable.

Taking the cup from her, he drained it with small, careful sips. “Thank you,” he said, handing it back.

“Let’s see how that goes down,” she replied. “Then you can have more if you want.”

When he nodded, Rosana got herself a drink and then sat beside him, arms hugging her bent legs. Outwardly calm, but her scent was sour with fear.

He turned toward her, set a hand on her arm. That’s when he noticed the finger-sized bruises on her throat.

He touched one of them. “Who did this?” he growled.

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It was Luc, wasn’t it?”

She jerked a shoulder.

A dark rage balled his stomach.

Rosana shot him an uneasy look. “They’re already better. If I could’ve shifted, the bruises would be almost gone by now.”

He swallowed his anger, nodded. This was between him and Luc. But the man was going to pay for every mark he’d put on Rosana.

For now, they had other worries, like the fact that Rosana was a river fada who’d been forcibly removed from her home waters. And on top of that, she couldn’t shift in this cramped, underground cell.

“You need your river. How long—?”

“I’m fine. The Chesapeake Bay isn’t far from here, and we’re right by the Potomac River. And this water”—she indicated the trickle coming from metal spout—“is spring water. Just splashing it on my face helped.”

He frowned. She wasn’t lying, but he recognized a half-truth when he heard it. “Why not shift to your otter?”

“If it comes to that, I guess I’ll try. But the dolphin is my preferred animal. I haven’t shifted to otter since I was a pup.”

“So how long?”

She groaned. “You’re like a pit bull sometimes, you know that?”

“Rosana.”

“Okay, okay. I need to immerse myself in fresh water, and even if I shifted to otter, I’d still be too large for that little trickle to do any good.”

His stomach knotted. “How long?” he gritted. “One day? Two?”

“I honestly don’t know.” She gave a half laugh. “It’s not like I’ve ever been locked up before. But I’m not going to shrivel up overnight. I have at least a few days, maybe longer, although I’ll start to feel it in a day or two.” She opened her mouth, shut it.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I have a feeling we’ve been in here longer than we realize—maybe even a day already. You know how time runs differently in a fae court.”

He swore. “So you’re already feeling it?”

Another jerk of her shoulder.