“Leave her be, jailer.”
Chapter 4
Kiera
The jailer’sharsh laugh ricocheted around the cell. “You think you’re going to stop me, boy? Come on, then.” He pulled a short, rusty club from his belt.
The prisoner crouched on bare feet, his chains scraping over the ground. The glow from the torches illuminated his shirtless body—a rippling mass of blood, sweat, and muscles. Dark hair fell like glistening crow wings to his broad shoulders.
I scowled at his back. Gods damn it, if he got himself killed, all this would be for nothing. But my scowl faded when I saw the twisted scars—and was that black ink?—etched into his back.
The jailer lunged. The prisoner twisted away, seizing the club then lashing out with it.Crack!The jailer howled and fell backward, clutching his nose. Blood seeped between his fingers.
The prisoner leaned over him. “Hurt her again, and I’ll break more than your nose.”
I couldn’t see his face, but his words and his tone were enough to send a chill through my heart. Why did he bother to protect me? He didn’t know me.
But then my heart dropped to my toes.
Two Shadow-Wolves appeared soundlessly in the doorway. Renwell must’ve called them.
They stepped over the squealing jailer. The prisoner tossed the club at their boots. Even he must know he couldn’t win a fight with two Shadow-Wolves while chained.
One of the Wolves slammed him against the wall and held him there. The other one approached me.
I cringed, but he simply gathered my chains and hauled me against the opposite wall as if I weighed nothing. As he secured my chains to the iron ring anchored there, I glanced over his shoulder.
My gaze collided with a pair of hard, bright green eyes. The prisoner’s bronze, angular face was marred by dirt and blood. But it was his look of fury that stole my breath away. This was the farthest thing from a man beaten into submission.
But was he angry with me or the jailer?
The Wolves finished securing us and departed without a word, dragging the jailer behind them like a bloody carcass for butchering. The door clanged shut behind them, stealing most of the light.
The only sounds were my roaring pulse and ragged breaths, the key still clenched between my teeth.
But he was there. Could he see me? Could he reach me?
I cowered against my wall, praying his chains would keep him from me.
“Are you hurt?” a deep, quiet voice asked.
I blinked.Thatwas what he wanted to know first? I used my tongue to shove the key into my cheek so I could speak. “I—I’ll live. Who are you?”
He hesitated. “A prisoner like yourself. I won’t harm you.”
I suppressed a snort. As if I would trust him so easily. Yet I still felt the ghost of his warm fingers wrapped around my arms, tugging me behind him.
I shook my head.Focus.
My eyes searched for him in the darkness. But it was as if I were talking to a wandering soul in the Longest Night. I shivered.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
His voice sharpened. “Why do you want to know?”
I let my voice wobble. “Are—are you a murderer or a rapist?”
“No. And I already told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”
