Every instinct screamed at me that the banshee’s warning was about Callum. It had to be him. I’d first heard the soul-tearing cry mere moments before he climbed through my window, and now it taunted me with the knowledge of his looming demise.
I knew it then, and I knew it now: If Callum didn’t escape the Unseelie Kingdom, he would die here.
But I hadn’t been able to make him see reason. Even after the banshee’s warning, he refused to leave me behind. Now I was trapped and powerless to protect him.
Desperation clawed at my throat, and I rattled the bars that held me prisoner.
I needed to get to him.
“Guards!” I shouted, but there was no answer, only the banshee’s cry curdling the air, promising agony.
Tears stung my eyes, and my hands shook as the acrid scent of terror surrounded me, thick and cloying. I paced back and forth like a hound before the kill, but it did nothing to settle my frayed nerves.
The scream sliced through the stone and mortar, closer now, slithering beneath my skin. My breath thudded, shallow and ragged, and I yanked on the bars to no avail.
The wail tore through the corridor, scraping at my sanity, but I didn’t let go of the iron grate.
I had to do something, anything.
The sharp clinking of keys broke through the wailing, and my head snapped up, my eyes straining toward the far end of the walkway. A low creak filled the silence, and I held my breath as I listened to the footsteps coming down the stairs.
Was it a guard?
The steps were faint, almost delicate.
My suspense was short-lived, though, as a figure rounded the corner, stopping in front of my cell.
“Aren’t you a sight?” a soft, feminine voice said, eyeing me.
“Celeste?”
The pale pink of her dress caressed her skin, making her appear ethereal in the gloomy light of the dungeon. Her blond waves that were normally styled to perfection sat in slight disarray atop her head, as though she had been running her fingers through the strands.
But it was the haunted look in her eyes that had my spine stiffening.
“Why are you here? What’s going on?”
“I know I haven’t been kind to you,” she said, ignoring my question. “I could stand here and make excuses for myself. Tell you that I was acting at the behest of my father, and later, my uncle, but the truth is, Cadence, I am weak.”
She released a shaky breath, and her hands shook.
“I’ve never been strong-willed or had the courage to fight for what I want.”
Emotion flooded her cobalt eyes, and she had never looked so vulnerable.
“Why are you telling me this?” Unease churned in my stomach the longer Celeste spoke.
She smiled, but it was filled with sadness. “Even though you had every right to abandon me, you didn’t.” She choked on the last word as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Memories of Lord Barrington holding her above the ground, his hands wrapped around her tiny throat as he strangled her, assaulted me.
My palms clenched into fists, and I exhaled a slow, calming breath. If fate had decided that my life would end in the Unseelie Kingdom, at least I’d made my mark by eradicating that coward.
“No matter our history, Celeste, you never deserved the mistreatment that others inflicted on you.”
Celeste’s watery smile made my chest tighten. She didn’t believe me, but she was grateful all the same.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “I wanted to thank you one last time.”
