“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. Lorenwanted 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 faintclick.
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 hisby 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 wasthat?” 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 killed. 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.
