His rage ignited.
The chains groaned as Loren surged to his feet, the manacles biting deep into his ruined skin as he lunged forward. He bared his teeth, the snarl that tore from his throat primal and unrestrained.
“Do not touch her.”
Jaxon flinched, his smug expression faltering as he fell back half a step. His brow furrowed, lips parting slightly—processing. Translating. But then he recovered, sneering as he yanked Araya back against his chest. She stumbled, clutching her case to her chest like a lifeline.
"T’sovira, ehn Vael’Thir,”he said. The phrasing was stilted, thecadence mangled beyond recognition. It was Valenya in name only—but Loren still understood him.Too late, little prince.
Araya stiffened in his grip, her silver eyes widening with shock and confusion, but Jaxon only sneered as he brushed her braid aside. “I more than touch her,” he said in broken Valenya, trailing his fingers deliberately down the long line of her neck. “Iownher. Her body, her magic, her life—everything she is belongs to me.”
“Jaxon—” Araya twisted in his grip, her plea cutting off in a startled yelp as Jaxon roughly slid his hand into her dress.
Loren’s vision blurred red.
His instincts roared louder than reason, drowning out any thought of caution. His magic—weak and stifled by years in iron—scraped against his skin as the shadows hissed and writhed in the corners of the cell. He couldfeelthem, clawing at the edges of his sanity.
Loren threw himself against his chains, fresh blood trickling down his arms as the iron bit into his ruined skin. The bolts anchoring the chains to the wall groaned under the strain, the metal shrieking in protest.
And then, with a screech of twisting iron, they snapped.
Loren stumbled forward, his chains dragging behind him. Untethered.
For the first time, true fear flickered over Jaxon’s face. He took a step back, dragging Araya with him. Loren’s heart lurched as she cried out, aether sparking where Jaxon’s hand wrapped around her throat. Power surged—with her so close Loren couldfeelit flowing from her and into Jaxon.
The bond recoiled in his chest, bitter disgust flooding his mouth as Jaxon tossed her roughly to the side, freeing his hands. “Do you think breaking your chains changes anything?” He spat, ignoring her broken sobs. “You still don’t have your magic.”
“I don’t need magic to kill you,” Loren growled. He took another step forward, his broken chains scraping on the floor behind him. He wouldrip Jaxon apart with his bare hands before he let him lay another finger on her.
But then she threw herself between them. Power surged—hers—rising behind her in an impenetrable wall of magic. Loren staggered to a stop, but the shadows didn’t slow, surging across the stone in a tide of darkness. Araya yelped as they wrapped around her, brushing across her skin and curling into the spaces between her fingers, as close to her as they could manage.
Without thinking, Loren took a step towards her. He reached out his hand—but she flinched, and the fear in her silver eyes cut him more deeply than any knife the Arcanum had wielded against him.
Because she wasn’t afraid of Jaxon Shaw. She wasn’t even afraid of the shadows—she was afraid ofhim.
What did she see when she looked at him? A monster? Snarling and unchained? Loren bit down on the fury still burning in his chest and took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. Slowly, he lowered himself to the moldy pallet in the corner, careful not to scare her more than he already had.
The shadows drained away reluctantly, shrinking back into the walls and folding into the corners of the cell. Araya’s shoulders sagged, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. But the wild, shaken fear never left her face.
“I want to leave,” Araya whispered, half-glancing over her shoulder. “Now.”
Jaxon didn’t answer right away, his gaze lingering on where the shadows had wrapped around Araya’s hands just a heartbeat too long. Then his lips curled in a slow, satisfied smile.
Loren’s stomach twisted, his mouth going dry. Jaxon Shaw had just discovered a new mystery to unravel.
“Of course, Starling,” Jaxon said, plucking the padded case from her hands and tucking it under his arm. “But first—be a good girl and put those chains back where they belong.”
Araya stiffened, her eyes flicking to Loren’s bloody wrists. For amoment, her hand trembled, and Loren thought she might refuse—but then she knelt before him.
"I’m sorry," she whispered, picking up the first chain and pressing it back into place.
Loren didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Her magic brushed over his skin, soft and gentle, wrapping around the bolts and driving them back into the stone. The iron groaned as it reattached, locking him in place once more.
It took every drop of willpower Loren had to stay on the pallet as she scurried back to Jaxon’s side, letting him lead her from the cell. She glanced back once, her brow furrowing as she stared at his bloody wrists, but then Jaxon’s hand was on her back, urging her forward.
Loren didn’t move. Didn’t speak. The door groaned shut between them, the aetherlamp flickering and dying a moment later, sealing him in darkness once more. Still, he strained his ears, listening to the echo of their footsteps until they faded away entirely, leaving him with only his own heaving breaths for company.
He had survived everything the Arcanum had done to him. But this—this was different. His mate had been afraid of him.
