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F ane was down, his head bloody. Marjani’s breath hitched.

Please let him be okay. Don’t let me lose him, too.

Because walking away from him had been right up there with one of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life. But how could she trust a man under Sindre’s geas ?

The goblins kept coming, so she couldn’t even check if he was still breathing. Snatching up the dagger, she grimly fought on, a blade in each hand.

But the vicious little creatures seemed to multiply like rabbits. For every goblin she killed, two more sprang forward to take its place. Biting and gouging her, until she was bleeding from multiple wounds and their sour stench filled her nostrils.

They climbed each other to leap at her until a blow knocked her to her knees beside Fane’s prone body. Her knives went flying. She scrabbled for them, but the dagger was too far away, and she didn’t know where the switchblade was.

A stir in the air made her lift her head. Blaer had ’ported in, although she chose to perch on the rocks above the fray. Marjani snarled and inched her way toward the dagger. It wasn’t a throwing knife, but she thought she could still hit her mark.

There. She had it.

A shadow near Blaer’s leg moved and became a wolf—a wolf with Luc’s eyes and a quartz hanging from its neck.

The fae lady set a hand on his head—and smiled.

“ No .” Marjani wasn’t sure if she’d whispered or shouted. She leapt to her feet and aimed the dagger at Blaer’s throat.

A small body slammed into her legs at the same time another landed on her back. Wiry arms wrapped around her wrist, pulling her arm down so that the dagger hit a boulder instead of Blaer. Long nails raked down Marjani’s body, ripping through her clothes to dig into her skin.

Marjani spun in circles, trying to knock them off, but they kept piling on until she fell flat on her stomach.

Maddened with pain and the goblins’ high-pitched shrieks, the cat forced its way to the surface.

Bloodlust filled her, hot and red. She shifted partway, teeth elongating and claws sprouting from her fingertips, and fought as her animal.

Sinking her teeth into the goblins’ squat necks.

Ripping open their soft bellies with her claws.

Someone moved behind her. She tried to twist away, but there was nowhere to go—she was surrounded. Something hard crashed into the back of her skull and a white light exploded behind her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she lay curled on her side, looking through bars.

Shiny iron bars.

Marjani swallowed, her mouth still filled with the bitter taste of the goblins’ blood. She scrubbed a hand over her lips and tried not to wretch.

She was fully human again and lying on a sheepskin. Not touching the iron directly, but she still felt like crap from the poisonous metal already seeping into her. Not to mention that her body was bruised and bloodied from the fight with the goblins.

From its place against her thigh, her quartz hummed a healing song, valiantly doing what it could, but with the iron surrounding her, the best she could hope for was to maintain.

And the decoy quartz around her neck was gone.

She lifted her head. Pain lanced her brain. The room swooped around the cage, leaving her shaking and nauseated.

“Jani.” In the next cage, Fane crouched on his haunches, his clothing in shreds, his face a mass of bruises and an egg-sized lump on his temple. “You all right?”

She closed her eyes and concentrated on not throwing up. Even talking was difficult through her swollen mouth.

“Yeah,” she managed to say. “And you?”

“I’ve been better.” Even with her eyes closed, she somehow knew his mouth had kicked up in his trademark wry grin.

“Blaer?” She spoke the fae lady’s name, because what did it matter if she drew her attention?

“We’re alone for now, except for the black wolf. I’m not sure if he’s still alive, though. He hasn’t moved once in the last half hour.”

Corban could go fuck himself. It was Luc she was worried about. She made herself ask. “Luc?”

“No. It’s only us three.”

“No. She has…him. I saw.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Her chest constricted. Luc had been there for her through thick and thin, patiently waiting for her to grow up and choose him as her mate. For a while, she’d thought maybe… But no. It had been some time since she’d known she just didn’t think of him in that way.

But even though she’d told him that, he’d stubbornly insisted on waiting. Hoping.

Tears seeped from her eyes. She cried not because she loved Luc, but because she didn’t—at least, not in the way a woman loves her mate.

And now he was under Blaer’s control. If only she hadn’t been so hellbent on proving she still had what it took to be Adric’s second, he might still be back in Baltimore.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” murmured Fane. “There’s a canteen next to you. Drink. It’s just water.”

Without opening her eyes, she felt for it. The first thing she did was rinse her mouth and spit out the water through the bars of the cage. Then she took a few small sips, needing the fluid but afraid her stomach would rebel. The water soothed her swollen mouth, and she managed to keep it down.

She capped the canteen and set it back down before lifting her hand to explore the bump on the back of her skull. It was caked with dried blood, but at least it was no longer bleeding.

Next, her hand went to her front pocket. Her stomach lurched as she confirmed that she’d lost both the switchblade and the dagger. Even her stiletto would’ve been something, but she’d tossed it to Luc. She was defenseless.

Panic clawed her nape. Behind her eyelids, black spots danced.

“Hey.” Fane’s voice. “You still with me?”

She dropped her hand back to the sheepskin. Answer him.

But she couldn’t seem to summon up the energy.

He muttered something harsh. “Shift, damn it. You’ll heal faster.”

True. But there was a reason she shouldn’t. She feared letting the cat out, weak and exhausted as she was.

She lifted heavy eyelids. This time, the room remained steady.

And at least her quartz was still safe in her cargo pants. The pocket’s flap had ripped, but by some miracle, the zipper had held. She set a hand over the material covering it and concentrated on not throwing up.

Fane had dropped onto his hands and knees. His whole body spoke of his worry for her. “Jani. You need to shift.”

“Can’t,” she said between swollen lips.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Not…in control.”

His forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

“Cougar…wants to take over.”

“So? You won’t let it.”

She gave a mirthless chuckle. “Not…that simple.”

“Screw that.” Blue eyes blazed into hers. “You can . I know you can.”

For some damn reason, she believed him. She wriggled out of the tattered sweater first. Someone had removed her boots. She eased her briefs and pants down her legs at the same time, taking care with the deep slash on her right thigh, and then pulled off her socks.

Next came her T-shirt. Just pulling it over her head made her go blind with pain. A moan escaped her lips. She curled into a panting, agonized ball, and then gritted her teeth and dragged off her bra, too.

“That’s my girl,” Fane said.

She growled, low and mean, but he just winked back.

Sitting cross-legged on the sheepskin, she dug her quartz out of the pocket. Holding it to her heart, she opened herself to the shift.

Another wave of nausea rolled through her.

She clenched her jaw and kept trying. Her quartz warmed against her chest, but the energy level was dangerously low.

That was bad—she’d counted on drawing on the tiny crystals to help her through the shift.

She estimated she had a fifty-fifty chance of succeeding.

She swallowed dryly. Should she risk it?

But for once, her cat’s independence served her. It surged up, determined to be out. For a few frightening seconds she wavered between human and cat—and then she was crouched on the sheepskin as her cougar.

“Excellent,” said Fane.

She twitched her tail, pleased with both herself and him.

Already she felt better. The shift had healed the minor cuts and bruises, including her swollen mouth. Even her head ached less.

Her sharp hearing detected a faint heartbeat to her right. Corban—alive, but close to death.

She gave her injured thigh a few soothing licks and then settled onto the rug, positioning her center over her quartz.

The healing energy hummed through her, sinking into her very bones.

If she could just get out of this fucking cage, she could go looking for Luc.

But the iron continued to sap her energy.

Fane lay down on his rug with a sigh. She eyed him anxiously. He was hurt bad—worse than her. His heartbeat was slow and uneven, and blood seeped from cuts and gashes all over his body, its sharp iron-and-silver scent filling her nostrils.

The cat yowled and flexed its claws, frantic to go to him. It couldn’t understand why it couldn’t batter itself against the cage door until it broke.

Bad. Too much blood. The man needs help.

Marjani mentally stroked its head. Iron , she told it. Bad magic .

“Love you,” Fane rasped.

The cat purred, liking the sound of that. Beneath Marjani’s abdomen, the quartz hummed joyfully against her heart.

Love? She didn’t know about that, but Fane was hers in some way she didn’t want to examine too deeply.

Ours , the cat agreed.

But it was bad that the man was in an iron cage. He needed to get out, to heal.

And then the thing Marjani most feared happened. The cougar wrenched control from her.