There’s no reply. All I feel is panic.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask as the guards shove me into the cage. The bars are cold and slimy against my bare legs. I’m still in the fucking short tunic. I’m shaking violently. I force myself to maintain the conversation. Maybe I can still persuade this asshole to relent. “The king is considering giving me up.”
The bearded advisor gives a short, unpleasant bark of laughter. “He is not! He claimed you. He is an Alpha. You are his Omega. He would die for you. He would burn the kingdom to the ground before he gave you up. I, on the other hand, must consider the needs of Arboron. Of the Arborii people.”
“Thekingis considering the needs of his people! Didn’t he save them once before?” First Sian, now this guy. Both seem dead certain that Hunter would never send me away.
“That was before he had a mate. You do not understand our world. But the Stone King requested you—he is the one who ordered you sent to Ulfaria in the first place—and you are rightfully his. Safe travels.”
“Fuck you!” I’m yelling at the top of my lungs as the snake starts to withdraw its massive head from the bank of windows, smashing more of the jagged shards of glass around the frame. I’m glad of the cage, otherwise I’d be slashed to ribbons. “SIAN! Fuckingwake up!”
“She can’t hear you,” the councilor sneers. “Don’t worry. She’ll awaken once you’re safely away. And she’ll have no memory of this event—or any conversation you had before…”
His voice trails down to nothing as the snake spins around and slithers away, with me bouncing in the cold, white-rusted cage around its neck.
It’s traveling through the darkness at an incredible speed. The scenery fades into a blur as it shoots along. A distant memory pokes at my mind. Merry…go…round. Ornate, pretty carved horses on long poles, bobbing up and down and spinning around at the same time, going faster and faster… as the scenery in the background faded into an indistinguishable blur.
The adrenaline dump is fading a little, and I’m shivering uncontrollably. But there’s nothing I can do right now. The door to the cage was locked securely, and until we get to where we’re going, I’m stuck here. So I probe my brain some more, thinking, thinking, straining to recall anything about my past before I woke up in the woods. The merry-go-round memory was vivid, it felt like something I had actually experienced rather than something I was imagining. So I start there, diving back in, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to see the people around me.
Nothing.
Tears soak my cheeks but I don’t even have the strength to wipe them off my face. Instead, I shove my hands into the pockets of the tunic, then yank my right one out with a squeal. A drop of blood blooms on my finger. I just cut myself… but on what? Reaching back in with much, much more care, I extract the same kind of bladed snowflake weapon I saw Hunter use to bring down that animal with.
Remembering how he showed me to hold it makes me ache. Carefully, I slide it back into my pocket—the thing is a menace to hold even when I’m not being bounced around in a cage. God knows why it’s there, but it gives me little comfort. It’s not like I know how to use the thing.
I wish I had paid attention. I wish I had let him show me.
But it’s too late now.
This whole situation is just hopeless. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
* * *
The Hunter King
The panic reached me too late. By the time Haley’s silent call for help vibrated through our soul bond, by the time I flew from the drinking hall to my chambers as if my feet had wings, she was gone.
I take everything in with a single glance: the shattered wall of windows, the toppled furniture, the broken glass—and Sian. She looks dazed.
I growl.
Brokk skids into the room behind me. “What happened?”
The Beta shakes her head, blinking. “I-I don’t know.”
“Where is she?”
When Sian doesn’t reply, I stalk over to her and, taking her by the shoulders, shake her violently. I roar, and the fear is apparent in the Beta’s eyes, but her reply is the same.
“I don’t remember!”
“Stop it! Let her go!” Brokk’s hand on my arm is enough to make me let go of Sian.
A sour, mildewy smell fills the air, crowding out Haley’s sweet scent.
“Stone King,” I snarl. He has her. I will kill him.
“The Stone King?” Brokk asks.
