Page 27

Chapter

Twenty-Six

She had forgotten her place.

Loren’s vision narrowed, his pulse pounding as rage flared hot in his veins, burning away the deep, numbing cold that had settled in his bones over the years he’d rotted in this hateful place. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the bruise on Araya’s skin. The gash on her forehead. The stiff, painful way she moved.

Jaxon Shaw had done that to her. Because she had forgotten her place.

Loren would kill him. Jaxon would pay for every mark he had left on her. Every bruise, every scrape, every cut—Loren would tear him apart with his bare hands for daring to claim something so precious, only to shatter it. Just imagining it filled Loren with a savage, burning energy.

Except he couldn’t kill Jaxon Shaw. He’d kept Araya safe—made her happy, even. Loren wanted that for her again, even if it felt like a knife in his gut. His only consolation was that she didn’t know about the bond. It would only bring her pain to know what the Arcanum had stolen from them. Better that he bear the knowledge for both of them—it was the least he could do .

Then, footsteps—two sets.

Loren swore under his breath, swallowing back his rage as he strained his ears to hear through the heavy iron. That female just didn’t listen .

“I’m not supposed to let anyone in without Master Jaxon—” the guard said.

“Have you not been here every other day Jaxon has dragged me down those million steps?” the Healer snapped. “If this prisoner he’s so worried about dies on your watch?—”

Loren raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t realized he was still on the verge of death. He could hear the guard shifting from foot to foot, no doubt preparing to turn them away again?—

“Jaxon has meetings with the Arcanum all day. I’m here in his stead—I’m very sorry, Aeron. He should have sent you a message. Here, my key.”

Araya . The shadows hissed, stirring at the edges of his cell.

Loren had known she was there from her footsteps, but hearing her voice stoked the dull ache in his chest to a sharp pain, stealing his breath away. He sank down on the cot she’d insisted he have, despair flooding him as the keys grated in the lock.

She wasn’t supposed to be here—she should be securing her own safety. Not checking on him. But he couldn’t stop himself from raking his eyes over her as the Healer kindled the aetherlamp, taking in everything from the neat bandage on her head to the wrap supporting her wrist, knowing there were a myriad of bruises he couldn’t see hidden beneath her cloak and dress.

“I told you to stay away, ael’sura ,” he said wearily.

She frowned at him, but the Healer’s face softened at the term. She did know then—but she hadn’t told Jaxon. Or Araya.

“And you still don’t have the authority to give me orders.” Araya glared at him as her friend traced a silencing rune on the back of the door, her silver eyes blazing. “The two of you owe me an explanation. ”

Loren’s lips twitched into a faint smile despite himself. In another life, this female would have made a fearsome queen.

“You’re better off not knowing,” he said softly. “You know I wouldn’t be able to say it if it wasn’t true.”

“All that means is you believe that.” Araya didn’t flinch. “If you know something that could put me in danger, I want to know. That’s my decision to make—not yours.”

“He thinks he’s doing the right thing,” Serafina interrupted quietly, resting a gentle hand on Araya’s shoulder. “Let me talk to him—I’ll explain.”

Araya bit her lip, her eyes still fixed on him as she nodded.

Serafina stepped forward and knelt beside Loren’s cot, her hands light but practiced as she examined the remnants of his wounds—almost fully healed now, under her care. If she hadn’t been escorted by Jaxon Shaw and drugging him, Loren might have thanked her.

“ Vira’thal ,” she greeted him, continuing in flawless Valenya. “We haven’t had a chance to speak, Your Majesty, but we have friends in common. My name is Serafina.”

Araya’s head whipped towards them, and she took a step forward. “Are you speaking Valenya ?”

“My father taught me,” the Healer said in the common tongue, but her eyes didn’t waver from Loren. Switching back to Valenya she added, “She’s smart. She’s going to get suspicious fast.”

Loren stared at her, still shaken from hearing his title roll effortlessly off her tongue.“You know.”

“I figured it out.” Serafina said. “I understand you haven’t told her because you want to keep her safe, but that won’t protect her once Jaxon figures it out.”

Loren’s jaw tightened, his emerald gaze flicking to Araya before locking back on Serafina. “Then he can’t figure it out.”

“She can’t stop him,” Serafina said softly. “It’s only a matter of time.” She leaned back on her heels, her green eyes unreadable. “My father told me mates are always stronger together—would claiming her make you powerful enough? ”

“Powerful enough to do what?” Loren growled, something cold and ugly twisting in his gut. To claim a mate without their knowledge or consent…it was the kind of violation the Arcanum had built an empire on.

“To escape,” Serafina said calmly, as if she hadn’t just suggested something unspeakable.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in iron,” he ground out, his voice raw. “And I would never do that to her.”

“If you don’t, the Arcanum will put her in a cell like this.” Serafina stared at him, her accusing stare ripping into his resistance. “If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to hear her screaming when Hale does to her what he did to you. She’ll never be safe here, Your Majesty.”

Loren inhaled deeply, Serafina’s truth weighing heavily on his conscience. He wanted to argue, to find another way—but the idea of Araya locked in a cell, her screams echoing in the darkness? That was an image pulled straight from his nightmares.

Loren breathed out, his shoulders stiff. “I’ll need the collar off.”

Serafina didn’t hesitate, rising smoothly to her feet as she turned to Araya. “I want to treat the abrasions under the collar,” she said in the common tongue. “Can you take it off?”

Araya hesitated, her gaze flicking warily between him and her friend. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said, her voice as guarded as her eyes. But she stepped closer anyway, drawn forward by the bond even if the rest of her mind hadn’t caught up.

Her scent surrounded him as she leaned in to study the collar, filling his lungs with the smell of rain and wildflowers despite the stink Jaxon had left on her skin. It took every drop of Loren’s willpower not to reach out for her as her eyebrows drew together, her gaze lingering on the damage to his flesh beneath the iron.

“Hold still,” she murmured.

Loren didn’t move as her fingers brushed against his skin, tracing the edge of the collar. It had to be burning her, but her hands didn’t falter as she worked, feeling for some sort of hidden clasp. Loren wanted to tell her he’d burned his fingertips to raw stubs without finding a way to get it off, but before he could speak the collar released with a faint click.

Air flooded his lungs. It was the same damp, cold air he’d been breathing for more than twenty years. But now, it was different. Because for the first time in decades, Loren could breathe freely.

For so many years, he had felt nothing. Nothing but silence. Nothing but loss. His power, his birthright, his will to keep fighting—it had all withered away under the weight of iron and suffering.

But now?—

The meagre dregs of power he’d been able to cling to with iron around his wrists and throat leapt to life, a spark in the frozen wasteland his magic had become. The shadows stirred as well, slithering from their hiding places to coil around his feet. His to command—if he could find just a little more power.

But he’d been in iron for more than twenty years. They didn’t have time to wait for him to replenish his power naturally—which meant there was only one way they would escape today. He opened his eyes, his gaze finding hers without conscious thought.

“—I’ll have to put it back on,” Araya warned, glancing over her shoulder at Serafina as she set the collar to the side. “But?—”

He didn’t want to do this. Gods, he didn’t. But he was out of time. She was the only one who could save them now. Before he could talk himself out of it, Loren lunged.

He wrapped his arm around her waist as she stiffened in surprise, hauling her against him in an unrelenting grip. His lips crashed into hers—desperate and starved, a collision of ruin and need.

Her lips parted, and magic ignited between them like a spark to dry kindling. She tasted of aether and fire, of something forbidden and vital, something that could save him or break him.

The desperate, primal part of him surged to the surface, aching to consume her, to drag her closer, to mark her and claim what was his by fate and divine right. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, pull her under, make her forget that Jaxon Shaw even existed.

But this wasn’t a claiming.

So instead of kissing her the way he ached to—Loren sank his teeth into her lip.

She gasped, ripping away as the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. He let her stagger away from him, his breath ragged as he fought the desperate desire to hold on to her.

“What was that ?” she demanded, her voice shaking. She raised a hand to her lip, her fingers coming away bloody. “You bit me?—”

“A necessity,” Loren muttered, dropping his eyes. The betrayed look on her face would haunt him for the rest of his life, but a spark of power under his skin had roared into a wildfire, flooding him. And for the first time in decades, the shadows answered his call.

“There’s only one guard,” Serafina said in Valenya, taking Araya’s hand and drawing her back against the far wall. Araya didn’t resist, but Loren could feel the tension radiating from her through the nascent connection between them, mingling with her fear and confusion.

Loren nodded, rapping his knuckles twice against the door. The keys grated in the lock, but the second the bolt slid free and the door started to swing open, Loren let the shadows go.

Araya cried out as they surged forward, silent and merciless. They sealed themselves over the guard’s mouth, slipping past his lips and down his throat, flooding his lungs. He died silently, his eyes bulging with terror as his body crumpled to the cold floor.

“Take his boots,” Serafina said. “It’s cold out.”

Loren crouched, yanking the guard’s boots off and jamming his own feet into them. They were too small—pinching his toes—but better than nothing. He took the heavy cloak Serafina handed him next, fastening it around his shoulders. With the hood up, the dark, nondescript fabric would blend easily into the background.

“Serafina…” Araya whispered from the doorway, her horrified eyes glued to the dead guard. “What are you doing? You’re going to get us both ki lled. Loren, I’m sorry—this is a mistake. There’s no way you get out. Let me put the collar back on you?—”

“I’m sorry, ael’sura ,” Loren said, catching her hand gently but firmly as she reached for him. “But that won’t be happening.” Glancing back at Serafina, he asked, “How are we getting out?”

“Crack this when you’re ready.” Serafina handed him a small crystal glowing with magic. “It will lead you to allies. They’ll know you’re coming.”

“What about you?” He asked.

“I have to wipe the record of our coming down here from the checkpoints we passed,” Serafina said. “And come up with a good story for how Araya went missing from my clinic.” She glanced at her friend, her expression turning sad. “You’ll have to compel her to follow.”

His stomach twisted. “She’ll hate me.”

“But she’ll live,” Serafina said simply. “If you don’t, she’ll never even get a chance to forgive you. She’ll run straight back to Jaxon, and now that you’ve claimed her…”

Jaxon would know. The truth settled like lead in Loren’s gut. Even if she never forgave him, he had to make sure she was safe.

He reached out to Araya, his heart aching when she didn’t flinch away, even after everything he had done. She just glared at him, her silver eyes wide with hurt and fear.

“Araya,” Loren whispered, her name heavy with magic as it fell from his lips. “ Ra’lora .”

She gasped, her body going rigid as the command seized her. Fresh panic surged through the bond, hot and desperate.

“Did you just—” Araya choked, her eyes widening in horror as they darted to Serafina. “What did you do? What did you let him do?”

Serafina embraced her, kissing her softly on each tear-streaked cheek.

“Have a good life, my friend,” she said, her voice breaking. “Be free. Be safe. Grow old. And one day, when you understand why I did this… forgive me.”

She stepped back, tears glistening in her eyes. But as she turned to Loren, her chin lifted, and the raw vulnerability in her gaze hardened into quiet resolve.

“Safe travels, Your Majesty.”