“Why does Jaxon want you here?” Loren finally asked. He had to know if Jaxon knew—if he’d figured it out and was just waiting for the right moment to use it against him.
“He thinks it will make you more cooperative.”
Loren’s jaw clenched. “And what do you think?”
“I think—” Araya sighed, sitting back on her heels to meet his eyes. “I think that if you told him what he wants to know, it could spare you a lot of pain. It might even win you some comforts.”
“You think Jaxon won’t find another reason to torture me?” Loren scoffed. “They barely need a reason at all.”
“It would help the fae in the districts,” Araya pushed, her face set. “The shadows are hurting them. If you could help your people and make things easier on yourself at the same time, why wouldn’t you?”
“You actually believe they’ll use whatever I tell them to help the fae?” Loren laughed again, groaning at the ache in his ribs. “They’re humans. They lie. I’ve been in chains for twenty-five years—nothing is ever going to get better for me. I assume my parents and my sister are either dead or suffering the same.”
Araya’s hands stilled over the bandage she was tying. For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then, almost too quietly for him to hear, she asked, “Do you actually want to know?”
Loren looked at her, something cold and sharp settling in his chest. “Are you even allowed to tell me?”
“Probably not.” Araya gave a hollow little laugh. “But no one told me not to. And…” Her voice faltered. “I’ve always been glad Isawwhat happened to my mother. That I didn’t have to spend the rest of my life wondering.”
Loren stared at her, then nodded tightly. “Tell me.”
“The fae queen was killed during the Ascendancy.” Araya sat back on her heels, her silver eyes shining with unshed tears. “The king escaped to Eluneth, where he was declared dead two years later—fallen in battle with New Dominion forces.”
Loren pressed his fist against his mouth, stifling the sob clawing its way up his throat. His ribs ached with each shallow breath, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight of her words. He’d known. He’d known there was no way they were alive—but hearing it…
“And my sister?” He asked when he had control of his voice again.
Araya shook her head. “I don’t know—but to my knowledge, you’re the only fae prisoner of royal descent in Arcanum custody. If you want me to try and find out more?—”
“No,” Loren managed, his voice rough with grief. “If she’s alive—don’t draw attention to her. Please.”
Araya nodded, pressing her lips together. They sat in silence for long minutes, watching each other.
“That’s why I can’t tell him anything,” Loren said finally. “Nothing the Arcanum does will ever be good for my people, no matter what they promise. I could never sell my people out for a little comfort.”
Araya didn’t answer him, her focus on tying off the last bandage. Her fingers lingered for half a breath before she pulled away, sending sparks skittering across his skin. Loren shuddered, desperate to reach for her—but she’d been raised by humans. She didn’t know about the mate bond. She didn’t know what she was to him, or that her presence here was a noose tightening around both their necks.
“You can’t come back here again,” Loren said, his words clipped. “You don’t understand what you’re risking by being here.”
Araya stilled, her silver eyes narrowing. “Then explain it to me.”
“No.” Loren looked away, fixing his eyes on the cracked stone in thewall. His fingers curled against his knee, aching to reach for her—to pull her close—but he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever.
But she didn’t let it go.
“It has something to do with the dreams, doesn’t it?” She pressed.
Loren’s head snapped back toward her, anger and fear blazing in his veins. “I told you—never speak of that.”
The shadows stirred, slithering from the dark corners of the cell at his outburst. Araya’s gaze flicked over his shoulder, her eyes widening as they closed in around them both. But she didn’t run.
“Why are they doing that?” she asked softly. “You—you’re not controlling them. And I’m not…”
She trailed off, her face breaking into a wide smile even as the misty shadows coiled closer to her. “I was right, wasn’t I? They’re sentient.”
No—she was too close. Loren needed to end this—now. Before she learned enough to hang herself. He needed her to leave and not come back, but if he couldn’t convince her to do that…she needed to hate him.
