A cheer roars from the arena below, making me nearly jump from my skin. From the pitch and volume of the celebratory noise, the fight must have concluded. I feel a mild pinch of disappointment over not having witnessed it, but my current situation is far more pressing.
“Come,” the man grunts. This time, I don’t even consider trying to fight him. It’s more fruitless than ever now, with my hand chained to his. But if I can find where he keeps the key before he kills me…
“Aren’t you going to unlock your cuff?”
“No,” he says, and the bitter edge laced into that single word makes me wonder if he perhaps doesn’t have the key at all.
My legs feel heavy by the time we reach the top floor of Department Wrath. A spark of hope surges in my chest as he guides me along the walkway and down the hall that leads to the back door. There I find Norace sitting where he always is. But as we draw near, my captor offers the centaur a nod, and Norace…nods back. He doesn’t so much as look at me.
“He knows I work for the Alpha Council,” my captor explains once the back door slams behind us.
I’m too stunned to say anything to that. I’d already grasped that he’d come for me at the command of Queen Tris, but the Alpha Council is the highest form of government, consisting of all the kings and queens of Faerwyvae. Since there are eleven courts on the isle, with each court being ruled by both a seelie and unseelie monarch, then he serves all twenty-two of them. No wonder Norace didn’t question his authority.
Does that mean Tris has convinced the entire Alpha Council of my guilt? The council is supposed to stand for fair trials, not covert abductions and assassination attempts. My eyes unfocus as he leads me down the alleyway between Department Wrath and Lust.
“Is it a glamour?” he says, tone sharp.
I frown up at him. “What?”
“The magic that makes it impossible for me to hurt you. Is it a glamour?”
I blink a few times. “My magic doesn’t work like that.”
He releases a grumbling sigh. “Fine. I’ll take you to her like this. When I bargained to bring her your heart, I didn’t specify you wouldn’t be attached to it. Although, I’m certain she’ll be displeased—”
“No!” I dig my heels in and yank on my cuffed arm. While it sends a spike of pain through my wrist, it doesn’t even make him budge. He yanks back and forces me to walk again, but after a few steps, I dig in once more. This time, I ball my fists and try to look as intimidating as possible. As ridiculous a notion as it is, there’s a chance it could work. I still don’t know what qualities he sees in me, but if he’s planning on taking me back to my stepmother, I have to try anything. “You can’t bring me back to her.”
He halts and whirls to face me. As his eyes land on my balled fists and my half-crouched stance, he lets out a dark chuckle. “You’re going back to your stepmother, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Especially since you’ve so conveniently attached yourself to me. I didn’t like the idea at first, but honestly,” he lifts his cuffed hand, “this works. Now you couldn’t get away if you tried.”
I stand taller and lock my eyes with his. Once again, I get no clear read on him. What impression did I form? And why is it so unclear? “How do you know I’m not like you?” I say, attempting the same trick I used on the kelpie after I escaped Fairweather Palace.
“Oh, so you’re a bounty hunter, then?” he says with clear disbelief.
“Whatever you think you can do to me, I can do to…”
My words dissolve as he steps closer, fully facing me. He looks more relaxed than ever, as if his attempt to kill me was all he needed to shed the tension I’d previously seen. He keeps one hand casually in his pants pocket while he wears the locked cuff like it’s a fashionable accessory. He narrows his eyes at me. “Do you not deserve to die after what you did?”
“I didn’t kill my father, I promise you.”
“You’re half human,” he says with a derisive snort. “Your promise means nothing when you can lie.”
“I’ll make a binding vow. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I didn’t do it.”
His expression remains firm, revealing not an ounce of faith in my words. “Then why did you run?”
My answer comes easily. “Because I knew Queen Tris would blame me either way. She hates me.”
He studies me for a few more moments, then leans close. I try to stagger back but he only pulls my cuff, forcing me to nearly collide with his chest. He places his free hand gently behind my back and brings his cheek next to mine. We’re so close, I feel the slightest brush of his bearded jaw graze my cheek. I seize up, poised to defend myself against any attack when I hear him take a slow, deep inhale. Then he steps away and looks down at me with a smug grin. “Whatever magic you’re using to cloak your lies, it isn’t enough to cover the smell of Crimson Malus on you.”
I swallow hard, my eyes going wide.
“There’s the aroma of guilt I was waiting for,” he says, his grin stretching. His elongated canines may have receded, but their absence does little to soften the threat of his very presence. “Now tell me, Miss Snow, if you didn’t kill your father, then why the blooming hell do you carry the scent of the same poison that ended his life?”
5
ASTRID
The blood drains from my face, taking all the strength from my knees with it. I stagger back, my free hand reaching blindly behind me for anything that could steady me. Finally, my fingertips brush the wall of Department Wrath. My captor steps forward. At first, I think he might attack again, but I realize he’s only standing closer to give slack to the chain that connects our wrists. Only then do I allow myself to lean against the wall. It’s all I can do not to collapse to the alley floor entirely.
