“Starling—” Jaxon jumped as she let the door slam into the stone wall. “I missed you this morning.”
“I had an errand to run.” Araya dropped the first aid kit Serafina had assembled onto her own workbench. “Did you know that no one has checked on Loren?”
“Why would they have?” Jaxon gave her a bemused look, setting down the glass tubing he’d been inspecting. “They’re here to make sure he doesn’t escape—not coddle him.”
“Escape?” Araya snorted. “You think he could escape after what you did to him? You’ve had him in iron for over twenty years?—”
“He’s fae, Starling,” Jaxon arched an eyebrow. “He’ll heal.”
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. This was necessary—what she had to do. But Serafina was right, she didn’t have to lose herself in the process.
“He’s running on nothing,” Araya continued. “And you’re starving him on top of it. Without magic, healing is going to be agonizingly slow. Keep treating him like an animal, and you won’t get what you need from him. He needs food. Water. Warmth. Some shred of dignity.”
“He’s a prisoner, Starling,” Jaxon said, his voice cool. “He doesn’t get dignity.” He tilted his head, studying her. “Why are you so concerned with his well-being?”
“Because you ordered me to be!” Araya snapped, then caught herself. She drew in a breath, trying to contain the heat in her voice. “You were so set on getting me to earn his trust. How am I supposed to do that when you’re leaving him like… like this?”
Jaxon’s expression remained composed, but something darker flickered in his eyes—something that didn’t belong to the polished mask he wore so well. “Is it that important to you?”
“Please, Jaxon,” she said, shivering even under all her layers. How cold must he be in that dark cell? Without even a shirt?
Jaxon sighed, his lips quirking into a faint smile. He closed the space between them, his hand slipping under the cloak to settle at the small of her back. Not holding her there—but reminding her that he could.
“You’re not playing fair, Starling.” He leaned in, his breath ghosting over the scarred edge of her ear. “You know I can’t say no when you ask so nicely.”
Araya huffed, twisting just enough to put space between them. “And you can tell the carriage drivers to stop keeping tabs on me. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You do.” Jaxon let her pull away, but his hand lingered at her waist, tracing slow circles at her hip. "You’re my bond, Araya. You don’t have the anonymity you once did. The places you used to go? They aren’t safe for you any more. Your refusal to acknowledge and understand that is dangerous—do you know what one of the rebel groups would do to you if they thought they could use you to get to me? Or my father?”
Araya stiffened. She had known she was taking a risk, but hearing it from Jaxon’s lips made it feel... reckless.
His fingers stroked down her jaw, his touch light, coaxing. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Starling.” He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her temple. “So please…for me. Don’t fight the carriage drivers on this.”
She glanced away, her resolve cracking under the weight of his stare. “Fine,” she muttered. She turned away, forcing herself to focus on the distillation rig instead—anything that wasn’thim. Her eyes caught on a case of bone blanks, the ivory discs arranged neatly in their packaging.
“These won’t hold a stable charge for long,” she said, picking oneup and turning it between her fingers. “Silver housings will slow the leakage, but it won’t fix the core issue. If you’re really trying to bind shadow magic to a physical vessel, you need a stronger lattice—preferably bone with a naturally high aether affinity.”
“I agree,” Jaxon plucked the blank from her fingers. “I put a petition in yesterday for whole bones, but these were the largest I could get at short notice. Is it enough to get started?”
Araya hesitated, glancing at where the vials of Loren’s blood sat, held in suspension. “Once the blood is processed…we should be able to imbue six testers. But if you’re using whole bone—you’ll need more.” She shook her head, guilt spreading bitter across her tongue. “I hope your last fae royal survived the night.”
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “Mind your tone, Araya.”
He stepped closer, invading her space and cupping her chin in his hand. He tilted her head up, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “You’re right though. It would be…inconvenient…if he died. Make a list of what you think he needs. I’ll approve it.”
“You will?” Araya stared at him. After all that—he’d just agreed?
“I will.” Jaxon grinned down at her, his dark eyes smoldering. “But don’t forget your manners, Starling.”
Araya froze, heat flooding her cheeks. Humiliation prickled under her skin, but she forced herself to stay still. She’d already pushed Jaxon too far—and if this was what it took to get Loren what he needed, then so be it.
“Thank you, Master Shaw,” she whispered.
“Good girl.” Jaxon smiled down at her, brushing a knuckle along her jaw. “That’s a start—now, go make sure he’s still breathing.”
Chapter
Fifteen
