If Aren were here right now, she’d kick my ass for being so pathetic. And gods, I’d thank her for it.
My eyes are still closed as I pull her image back into focus. Namreth might be trying to break my body and my mind, but he can’t touch this. He can’t erase her from my thoughts or my dreams. The memory of her laugh is enough to loosen the tightness of my muscles.
What wouldn’t I give to go back to that day in the Raven’s Beak and propose to her for real, with my mother’s ring in front of all of Evandale? But even that wouldn’t be good enough for my Aren. She deserves the world.
My chest aches—not from the bruises this time, but from something deeper.
Regret.
Her voice echoes in my head, so clear and sharp it sounds real.
“You must be kidding me. You’re napping?”
I startle, my heart skipping a beat. The words are too vivid. Too close.
“I’m not napping,” I murmur, my lips cracked and dry as I converse with a hallucination. “I’m simply resting my eyes.”
“Looks like napping to me.”
That tone—exasperated, teasing—is entirely Aren. It’s even more real than my previous dreams. My mind playing tricks on me, pulling her voice into my fantasy. Still, I want to sink deeper into it, to let it sweep me away from the pain.
“Oh, sweet Aren,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “Sweet…”
A loud clang jolts me out of my reverie. My head snaps up, and I blink hard at the bars of my cell. A shadowy figure stands on the other side, hands gripping the cold metal door.
“You better not be dying on me, Prince Asshole. Now—get up.”
I freeze, my breath hitching. My body protests, screaming in pain as I push myself up to my elbows, to see her more clearly. My heart hammers against my aching ribs, my pulse racing. “Aren?” Her name spills from my lips, disbelief lacing each syllable.
She’s here.
She’s really here, her face cloaked in shadow, but I’d recognize the curl of those lips anywhere. I stagger to my feet, every movement agony, and rush to the bars. “Aren!”
I grip her hands, and they’re warm—too warm to be a dream, too solid to be a figment of my imagination. I struggle to catch my breath, the searing pain in my ribs be damned. I still can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Her gaze sweeps over my face. I see the horror in her eyes, the way they shine with unshed tears as she takes in my injuries. Her fingers brush against my swollen cheek, and I flinch.
“Don’t,” I manage, taking her hand in mine again. My knuckles are raw, my wrists shredded, but her fingers laced with mine feels like a balm for wounds that no magical waters could ever heal.
Tears spill down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light. It takes all my strength to wipe the tears from her face with trembling fingers. “Don’t cry,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I’m okay.”
She knows I’m lying. I can see it in her eyes, in the way her lips press into a thin, trembling line. But she squeezes my hand, her grip firm and unyielding.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, the words tumbling over themselves. “I’m so, so sorry.” For bringing her here. For every terrible ordeal she’s endured for my sake. For everything. The weight of it all nearly drives me to my knees.
“Later,” she whispers, urgent. “I need you to get your shit together, because I’m busting you out of here.”
My heart skips a beat; hope and terror for her well-being war within me. “Aren, no. It’s not safe for you—”
“Shut up!” she snaps. I do.
She glances over her shoulder, her eyes darting up and down the hall. “I only have so much time. I gave them a quarter of a dose, so they’ll wake up soon.”
“Pardon?” I ask in confusion. From the folds of her cloak, she produces a single buttery biscuit. The smell hits me instantly, and my stomach growls so loudly it almost echoes. My mouth waters as she presses it into my hand.
“I’ll explain everything later,” she says, quick and determined. “I promise. Just trust me. I’ve made quite a few friends in this castle, and we have a plan to get you out.”
I stare at the biscuit, heavy in my palm, then at her. A painful smile pulls at my cracked lips. Even if this is all a fever dream, I don’t care. I get to see her one last time.
