Cain’s POV

I hear a heavy metal door opening but don’t look up from the dark puddle of my blood. I hear loud steps, and soon, I see a short, heavy woman with an ugly scrunch on her face, right in front of me.

Francine. Finally.

The only one that could actually kill me if I’m right about the stone.

“Do you know how many Arab guys with blue eyes we have on this side of the north? Just one. The Rogue Prince,” she says mockingly, probably bloating with pride.

As if I didn’t serve myself to them on a silver platter already stuffed with lethal amounts of wolfsbane just so I could meet her .

I involuntarily shudder when she touches my forehead with her greasy fingers to push my hair away from my face. Then she takes a rusty knife, and I fight with myself to not bite her head off.

Maybe I can’t escape from this hellhole without the little extra help I need from Atlas, not far anyway, but that doesn’t mean I can’t rough her up a little.

I don’t though. I want her to be clueless about my true raw power, at least until I have a better idea of where the amulet might be…

She takes a big swing with her knife-holding arm and soon I feel a cold wet thing on the back of my head. My knees give up under me but not before I notice a big, silver, real-heart-shaped cage-like pendant slipping out of her blouse .

The one containing the amulet that I have been relentlessly looking for over the past few years.

But the last thing I register before my mind goes completely blank is the fact that it’s… empty.

Fuck—