The tension in the air eased but didn’t dissipate. Varyth’s focus remained on me.
“We need to get out of here,” Linc growled, his voice low and urgent. “Before they decide to pick us off one by one.”
Darian nodded in agreement. “But how? We’re still bound, still powerless. And even if we could break free, we don’t know the layout of this place.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I rasped, biting down a groan as I shifted my weight. “We have to.”
A knock at the cell door silenced us all. We tensed, bracing for another round of torment, but instead, a small hatch at the bottom of the door slid open. Several trays were shoved through, laden with bread, dried meat, and cups of water.
We stared at the food in disbelief.
Darian was the first to move, cautiously approaching the trays and examining their contents.
“It seems... safe.” He sniffed at the bread.
Shaelith let out a huff. “They wouldn’t poison us. Not after going through all this trouble to capture us alive.”
Varyth nodded in agreement, but his expression remained guarded. “Eat,” he commanded. “We need to keep our strength up.”
No one needed to be told twice. We fell upon the food with desperate hunger, tearing into the bread and meat with our hands.
I forced myself to eat slowly, knowing that consuming too much too quickly after days of starvation could make me sick. The dried meat tasted ofdirt, the bread wasstale, but it was the best thing I’d ever eaten. The water was cool and clean, soothing my parched throat.
As we ate, I noticed Cindrissian hanging back, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. He made no move toward the food.
“Eat,” I said quietly, pushing a piece of bread toward him. “You need it as much as we do.”
Cindrissian hesitated, eyeing the offered bread as though it might bite him. He nodded, though a subtle tremor rippled through his hand before he reached for it. His eyes met mine for only a moment before he looked away. Fenric watched his brother, his own injuries forgotten.
The quiet in the cell stretched, filled only by the sound of ravenous chewing and the occasional scrape of metal against stone. The food wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to quiet the gnawing hunger, to soothe the raw ache in my throat, to remind me that we were alive.
The room tilted as exhaustion sank its claws into me, heavier than before. My shoulders sagged, the pain in my ribs turned dull and distant.
A steady, warm hand wrapped around my waist.
Varyth.
I blinked, my limbs heavy, thoughts slow.
The scent of dewed grass and sandalwood wrapped around me like armour.
I didn’t fight it when he pulled me toward him. Didn’t resist when he guided me down against his chest, his arms winding around me, holding me firm, secure. His thumb brushed along my spine.
The warmth of him seeped into my aching bones, into the places that trembled from pain and hunger and rage. His heartbeat was a steady comfort.
And, gods help me, I let myself sink into it.
The last thing I knew before sleep took me was the press of Varyth’s lips against my hair, and whispered words I couldn’t quite make out.
50
Ibarely noticed the stone beneath my feet as guards dragged me forward, my body aching from bruises and wounds I no longer had the strength to count. The iron grip on my arms burned, my wrists raw from the shackles that had been there for too long.
The halls blurred past me, grand and elegant despite the nightmare they housed. My captors’ boots echoed against polished stone.
Then, abruptly, we stopped.
A door opened. I was shoved forward, stumbling into a small dining hall, the heat of the fire crackling in the hearth a stark contrast to the chill that had settled deep in my bones. It should’ve comforted me. Instead, it made my skin crawl.
