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T eryn had no concept of day or night in his cell, but he knew the sun had risen when he heard footsteps marching down the hall. They were too swift to be a guard’s. Too confident to belong to anyone but Duke Morkai.

He rose to his feet as his cell door opened. Morkai strode in, a smug smile stretched across his face. It fell when he found only Teryn inside. Morkai’s gaze rested on Cora’s discarded gown. In a flash, the duke surged toward Teryn, bringing his cane against Teryn’s throat. “Where is she?”

Teryn fought to keep his composure despite his constricted airways. Even if he’d wanted to answer, the duke’s cane made it impossible.

Morkai seemed to come to the same conclusion and shoved away from him. His pale eyes flashed with rage. “Tell me.”

Teryn rubbed his throat, taking in heavy gulps of air. He shot the duke a smirk. “You said only one of us could remain alive by sunrise.”

Morkai took another step back, a vein pulsing in his temple. “She isn’t dead.”

“She could be,” Teryn said with a halfhearted shrug. It took all his effort to hide the truth of his feelings—the emptiness he felt at not knowing how Cora fared after her escape. His only consolation was that Morkai had no clue where she was. Which meant she had escaped.

“What. Happened.” The duke said each word through his teeth.

“She walked straight through the wall and left me behind.”

Morkai froze.

“Oh, did you not know she’s a witch?”

“She’s more than a witch,” the duke ground out.

“Then did you underestimate her powers?”

Morkai lifted his chin, jaw clenched tight, but Teryn could see the hint of fear in his eyes. He had underestimated her. The duke had expected to enter the cell and find them sitting at opposite ends, not daring to trust one another in light of Morkai’s bargain. Or perhaps he’d thought to find them huddled together, cowering with fear over what the duke would do to them come morning. Not once had Morkai considered Cora would use her magic to break herself out. The fact was written plainly across his face.

The realization filled Teryn with such satisfaction, he couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his lips. Teryn had never underestimated her. Had never seen her as anything but what he’d called her before she’d left.

Formidable.

She was a force to be reckoned with, a storm wind, an inferno. She was a wind-tossed sea and a snow-capped mountain. Beautiful like the edge of a blade.

Morkai didn’t see that, but Teryn did.

“Don’t look so smug, prince,” Morkai said. “Like you said, she left you behind.”

Teryn shrugged.

Returning to his carefully curated composure, Morkai planted his cane before him and folded his hands over the crystal. “Never mind the princess. I will find her again, have no doubts. My business is with you. Have you reconsidered my offer?”

“A night in the dungeon has done nothing to convince me to ally with you.”

“Are you certain? This is your final chance. I will send out my summons this morning. Ally with me, send a letter for your father, and I’ll award you with a personal guarantee that I’ll let you live even if your father refuses to surrender.”

“Can my letter say anything I choose?” Teryn already knew the answer but he couldn’t help baiting the duke with his own words.

“Of course not. Your letter must be penned in favor of surrender.”

Teryn leaned against the wall. “Then I refuse.”

Morkai’s jaw tightened. “I will make you pay, then. Should Menah and Selay surrender as they should, I will make you grovel at my feet. Should they choose war instead, then I will flay you alive before your father’s eyes and make him watch as I cut you apart piece by piece.”

Teryn swallowed hard. He knew standing against the duke meant his death, especially if his father made the choice Teryn wanted him to make. That didn’t mean he didn’t dread his fate. It also didn’t mean he was resigned to it just yet. There were two weeks until the meeting at Centerpointe Rock. Two more weeks in the duke’s company. Two more weeks to find a way to undermine him. Two more weeks to hope his father would make a plan. One that didn’t involve bowing before a blood mage.

Morkai narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps I could start carving you apart right now. A finger would work nicely in my summons. Perhaps fill your father with a sense of urgency.”

Teryn felt the blood leave his face. Despite the revulsion that turned his stomach, he forced himself to extend his hand. “Take your pick. It’s a sure way to turn my father firmly against you.”

The duke assessed him, eyes flicking briefly to Teryn’s outstretched hand. Then, with a dark huff of laughter, he took a step back. “No, let us save the theatrics for the meeting.”

“If we must.”

Morkai’s lips pulled into a sneer before he swept out the door. A guard closed it behind him. The duke’s voice rumbled from the other side. “I’ll see you at the meeting, Your Highness.”

Teryn listened to the sound of footsteps receding until he could hear them no more. Only then did he let his guard down. He slumped against the wall and slid down it, his arms trembling as he draped them across his knees.

The meeting at Centerpointe Rock loomed in his mind like a dark cloud. It felt both too soon and too far away. His skin crawled with the thought that he’d be trapped in this dark cell until then. He was desperate to move, to act, to fight.

Instead, all he could do was wait.

King Dimetreus’ demand for surrender arrived at Dermaine Palace two days later. Another day had passed since then, and yet Larylis Seralla held firmly on to his disbelief in what the letter had said. Refused to accept his brother was being held hostage. All evidence pointed to it being true, however, starting with the hastily scrawled note Berol had delivered a few days ago.

Ridine Castle. Not safe. Trying to flee.

Now his father had been summoned to meet at Centerpointe Rock in less than two weeks’ time to discuss terms for a peaceful surrender. Peace—while Teryn was being kept as a bait.

Larylis was sick with worry over his brother’s fate. He paced across his balcony, which he’d been doing for the better part of the morning, stopping only when he heard wings beating the air. He turned to see Berol diving toward the balustrade. Larylis rushed to her as she landed, his pulse leaping as he saw something clutched in her talon. He hoped against all hope that it was a letter from Teryn, proof that he was all right. Proof that their world hadn’t been turned upside down.

His heart sank as he saw Berol carried not a piece of parchment but a charred tree branch. Larylis took it gingerly from the falcon and fed her a strip of meat he’d set aside in anticipation of her return. This was the third time she’d come back without any communication from Teryn. When Larylis had gotten Teryn’s letter about being unsafe at Ridine Castle, he’d sent a note back asking for more details. Berol had returned with it still clutched in one of her talons, no sign that it had been read.

Larylis ran his thumb over the charred branch, watching it blacken the tip of his finger. Wherever Teryn was, Berol couldn’t reach him. He fled the balcony and went to the bureau inside his room, surprised when Berol followed him. She rarely came inside, spending most of her time on Teryn’s balcony or in her mews. The falcon landed on the top of Larylis’ bureau, wings splayed as she screeched her distress.

“I know,” Larylis said as he placed a fresh piece of parchment over his desk. He knew it was fruitless to send another letter, but he…he had to try.

He reached for his inkwell, but in his haste, he spilled it over the parchment. Cursing under his breath, he righted his well and sopped the ink with the paper, then began rummaging through the drawers of his bureau. Empty. Damn. He had to have more ink somewhere.

With quick strides, he went to his bookshelf, shoving aside books and stacks of paper. Finally, he found a stoppered bottle of fresh ink beside a stack of old letters and a pile of his favorite novels. He moved the books aside and reached for the ink. When he pulled it from the shelf, the letters came with it, spilling all over the floor. Larylis bent down to gather them up. He was halfway through retrieving them when one caught his eye. The letter was open, its familiar script flowing over the parchment. Gingerly, he picked it up, scanning words that had already been branded on his heart.

Larylis,

We cannot see each other anymore. I can’t explain. All you need to know is that I can’t love you. I could never love a bastard.

Mareleau

Whatever had possessed him to keep the letter was beyond him, for even now, three years later, the words still stung. Perhaps more so with his brother being held captive after running off to fulfill her Heart’s Hunt. Resentment boiled in his blood, a much more welcome feeling than fear. He crumpled the letter in his fist, strode to his desk, and tossed the princess’ letter in the hearth on the way. His chest felt tight as he caught sight of it igniting beneath the flames.

“Good riddance,” he muttered and poured the fresh ink into his inkwell. Berol screeched at him, her wings still splayed with agitation. He grabbed fresh parchment and his quill and began to write. “I know, Berol. I’m trying again.”

The falcon hopped down from the top of his bureau to the desktop, nipping at his fingers to stop him.

“Berol, I need to write to him?—”

She nipped again, forcing him to drop the quill.

He glared at the bird, prepared to shoo her off his desk, but there was something in her eyes that made his shoulders sink—a deep sadness that echoed the emotions he was trying to shove aside. A heart-wrenching possibility dawned on him, one too unbearable to consider. He ran a hand over his lower face and took a step back. “Seven gods. Berol, is Teryn…is he…”

She seemed to calm down a bit and flew back to the top of the bureau. Her shift in countenance sent him some small relief. He didn’t know how to communicate with the bird like Teryn seemed able to, but he wanted to believe she was trying to tell him his brother was alive. It was clear she was also trying to convey that writing another letter would do nothing. But what else could he do? His father had shut himself in his study ever since the missive arrived from King Dimetreus. Arlous had immediately blamed himself for what was happening to Teryn, saying it was all his fault because he’d told Teryn about some outlaw’s bounty. A bounty Teryn had attempted to collect, thanks to their father sending a communication to the king a while back. Never mind the fact that their father had only acted because of the letter Teryn had sent Berol with in the first place.

Larylis didn’t understand the full story, and the fact that he couldn’t talk to his father about it was driving him half out of his mind. He slammed a fist onto the desk. “We have to do something.”

A heavy knock sounded at his door. He whirled to face it, finding it swinging open before he could grant the caller permission to enter. He may have been a bastard but the palace staff knew better than to treat him as such.

But it wasn’t a servant on the other side of the door. Instead, Prince Lexington of Tomas charged into Larylis’ room, a mortified guard following in his wake.

“He wouldn’t take no for an answer,” the guard said, her eyes brimming with apology. “Your father wouldn’t see him, but I can’t turn him away. He’s a…”

“A prince, yes,” Lexington said, although his appearance was the opposite of regal. His cheeks were smudged with dirt, his hair a blond windswept mess, his clothing torn and stained. “And yet no one seems to respect that fact nor how long or how fast I’ve been bloody riding.”

Larylis blinked back at the man, uncertain what to make of his presence. The guard gave Larylis a questioning glance, one hand on the hilt of her sword. “It’s all right,” he said to her, then turned his gaze to the prince. “To what reason do I owe this pleasure, Prince Lexington?”

“Call me Lex, and—” He held up a finger, then doubled over, hands braced on his knees. “Seven devils I’m out of breath.”

Larylis watched as Lex took several deep breaths before straightening.

“Teryn is being held hostage by Duke Morkai,” the man said in a rush.

“I know,” Larylis said, then paused. “Wait…Duke Morkai? Not King Dimetreus?”

Lex gave a flippant wave of his hand. “They’re basically one and the same, but the worst part is the duke is a bloody blood mage and he’s the one who really wants to become king. You cannot surrender to him.”

“If we don’t, he’ll kill Teryn—” He shook his head. “How do you even know this?”

“It’s a long story, but I was captured with Teryn. Duke Morkai offered me a deal in exchange for my father’s allegiance. Little does he know, my father would rather build a wall to hide behind than join forces with a conqueror. Which left me one choice—to warn you about the duke’s monsters and wraiths and try to find a way to save my friend.”

Blood mage. Monsters. Wraiths. His words made no sense, but Larylis only questioned the one that seemed at least partially grounded in reality. “Your…friend.”

“Teryn,” Lex said as if that was supposed to be obvious from the start.

“Since when are you friends with Teryn?”

“Another long story, and if you don’t mind, I’d rather only tell it once. Which means we should speak to your father.” Lex turned on his heel and marched down the hall like he owned it. “In fact, we should probably head for Selay straight away. They’ll want to hear this too. Besides, I’ve got a Heart’s Hunt to forfeit.”

Larylis followed after Lex, unsure whether the prince was a hero or a madman.