“It happens,” Keg says. “My brother and I have had to beat off more than a few men who couldn’t take no for an answer from Barley.”
A nearby guard pushes his way forward. “Holman wouldn’t have done that!” he says, face blotchy with emotion. He’s young, probably only twenty or so, and the way he sniffs and rubs his nose on his sleeve tells me that he knew the guard personally.
“How did you know Holman?” Isalee asks.
“He was my best friend,” he says with another sniff. “I’m tellin’ you, I know how this looks, but it wasn’t him. He wouldn’t have done that. He fancied a few of the women here, sure, but he never said anything about the lady. He would’ve told me.”
I nod, and my eyes drift behind him to where Marcoul, my head guard, comes walking over and tugs the man away.
“What do you think?” I ask Isalee and Warken with a lowered voice. “Do you want help looking into it?”
“No, we’ll handle it,” Isalee replies.
With a nod, I say, “I need to go tell Auren. I left her sleeping earlier. She’ll want to be in the mender’s wing while Hojat works on Rissa.”
Ryatt comes with me back inside the castle, my brow furrowed as we head upstairs. “You don’t think the guard did it, do you?” he asks quietly so that none of the staff hears.
“No, I don’t.”
I’m not sure why, but I have a bad feeling in my gut.
“I don’t either. Something just isn’t sitting right.” We’re quiet until we reach Ryatt’s floor. “I’m going to dip in my room so I can change out of Fake Rip,” he says as we split off. “I’ll meet you down in the mender’s wing.”
With a nod, I turn and go up another flight of stairs, and then cut down the hall to my rooms where I let myself in. Yet when I make it into the bedroom, I find the bed empty. With a churning feeling of unease, I scoop up her cut ribbon from the bedside table and put it in my pocket. In the closet, I see the rumpled remains of the ruby dress she was wearing earlier. I see my black and brown clothes now shiny gold.
And I know.
Right then. That churning feeling in my gut pushes at me, nauseates me. The glint of my clothes makes me immediately think of that glint I thought I saw on the grass outside in the gardens. A thought I dismissed too quickly.
My heart fucking bulges like it’s going to explode, surging with fear and fury.
I check the bathroom. The front sitting room. The private room where we take our meals. The library. The kitchens. The roof. And when I’m up there, with the wind whipping at my face, I’m panting and pounding and fuckingpanicked. Because she’s not here. She’snot fucking here.
“Sire?”
I spin around to find Marcoul behind me along with several other guards, Ryatt included.
“What’s going on?” my brother asks as he pushes his way forward.
“She’s gone.”
The friction of those two words abrades my mouth, sparking such searing panic that it burns my throat with acid.
What happened in the garden had nothing to do with the guard. He wasn’t a murderer, he was a victim, same as Rissa.
My eyes churn, skin rippling, spikes trying to shove up through my arms and down my back, my gums aching as my fangs drop down.
I whip around, and the look on my face makes my brother’s eyes go wide.
“They took Auren. They fuckingtook her!”
I stuff two fingers in my mouth, letting out a shrill whistle so loud that it makes the guards flinch. But Argo is hunting this time of night. He could be miles away, too far to hear me. Lady Rissa and the guard Holman weren’t found for at least a half hour, and it took even longer for the guard to fetch me, for me to come up here…
“What do you want us to do?” Ryatt asks, coming up beside me.
“I think you got your wish,” I snarl bitterly. “I think that fucking prick kidnapped Auren to take her to the Conflux.”
Ryatt pales.
