Nadya and I tear down the corridor, the cold gnawing at my legs despite the heavy fabric of my gown. Our boots barely make a sound on the stone, but the thundering footsteps behind us grow louder. We take a sharp turn, reaching for the handle of a heavy door—locked. Another door—locked.
Nadya curses under her breath. “It’s like they knew we’d try to hide.”
“We just need one.” I pant. “One that isn’t bolted.”
We round another corner, nearly skidding on a patch of frost-slick stone, and finally a door gives way under my shove. We stumble inside, slamming it behind us, my heart beating so loudly, it drowns out everything else. The room is dim, dust suspended in the cold air like motes of ash. Shelves of forgotten ledgers and tarnished candelabras line the walls, but only thin slits for windows, not big enough for a body to fit through. No other exit.
Nadya presses her back to the door, both of us heaving, the damp air stinging my throat. “What now?” she whispers, frantic. “We can’t stay here.”
I pace, my pulse thrashing in my ears. “Can you use your magic—cloak us?”
Nadya shakes her head, her eyes wild. “Maybe. I don’t know how long it’ll hold. I don’t know how far we’ll get.”
“We have to try.” I search the room, looking for something to keep us warm if we make it outside. “Please.”
“And then what?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, but this can’t be it. We have to at leasttryto get out of here.”
She takes a deep breath, then nods as she releases it. I bite into my bottom lip, trying to stop the pounding in my ears as I hold out for hope.
Nadya closes her eyes, bracing herself, and I watch her hands tremble as she mouths the spell.
But before she can even murmur a word, the door crashes open with a brutal crack.
Fuck!
Torbin storms in, eyes blazing, his breath fogging in the frigid air. Before either of us can react, he strikes Nadya hard with the hilt of his sabre. The sound of it—bone meeting steel—makes me flinch. She collapses like a ragdoll, crumpling to the floor with a soft gasp.
“Nadya!” I drop to my knees, but Torbin shoves me back with one arm, his boots thudding closer.
I scramble to my feet, blood roaring in my ears. He kicks the door closed, locking it with a decisive smack of the bolt. The sabre hangs at his side, but his fury is far sharper.
“You are an ungrateful wretch,” he spits. His voice is low, trembling with the effort to control himself. “I offered you everything. Power. Wealth. A fucking place beside me.”
He stomps closer, but I throw my hands out and he flies backward, his back hitting the wall. He recovers quickly, sneering at me. I faintly feel the bloodseeping from my nose.
“You offered me ruin,” I snap. My chest heaves, my fists clenching. “You offered me the end of the world. You’re too deluded to see it.”
“You would’ve been queen!” His shout echoes off the stone, venomous and raw. “You would’ve been everything.”
His hand lunges, grabbing for my arm, but I twist away. My gown catches under his grip, the sleeve tearing with an ugly sound. The bodice strains, ripping jaggedly across my chest. I throw a punch—fingers stinging as they connect weakly with his jaw—but it does nothing to stop him. He’s too strong. He snarls, seizing my waist. My dress rips more as he drags me closer to him. We’re face to face as he glares at me.
The door bursts open with a deafening crack.
I gasp, stumbling back as Torbin whirls around, his sabre halfway raised.
And there, framed in the doorway, breath misting in the cold, stands Dante. His falchion gleams in the low light, and the look on his face is a raging storm.
For a breathless moment, his eyes meet mine. There’s a faint flash of relief as neither of us moves.
The cold air is thick with smoke from the torches, the walls seeming to close in around us. My heart thunders against my ribs, my wrists raw where Torbin has grabbed me.
I feel Nadya shift on the floor. Thank the gods, she’s conscious! She looks between the two brothers before glancing at me. Swallowing hard, she winces, her fingers trembling as they stretch out.
“Well, if it isn’t my dear brother,” Torbin drawls, turning slightly to face Dante, keeping one hand resting possessively on the back of my chair. His eyes gleam, full of mockery. “I was wondering when you’d come crawling.”
Dante’s voice is a low, lethal growl. “Step away from her.”
