“She’s not alone—how do you know?—”
He kicks the bars with more strength than I thought him capable. “Youidiot. I spent decades here and you’ve destroyed everything with your arrogance.”
Stepping closer, my temper flares. How dare this prisoner insult me—the heir to the Shadowlands. A Dark Fae prince. The futureking.
“I’ll remind you,Human,” I growl, fangs lowering with my irritation. I’ve never liked their kind and he’s reminding me why. “You’re speaking to the future ruler of the Shadowlands, and the only creature down here that could potentially let you out. Do not think foronemoment that you have the authority to insult my intelligence nor to presume you know anything about my mate.”
The Human lowers his head, black eyes flickering with annoyance as he glares at me. For a Human, he’s tall, rivaling me in height even in his malnourished state.
He shakes his head. “I knew letting her be with Nessa would cause nothing but trouble. If only?—”
“Whoare you?” I cut off, the name striking me.
Nessa was the former Matriarch of the Blackwoods Coven. The woman who raised my mate, who forced her to live in fear and ridicule. To fear her glorious power.
Those black eyes burn hotter, a cold fire that drains the color from my face.
The smudges of dirt and filth don’t hide his pointed chin, the large eyes even as they glower at me. The shade is wrong, too dark, but I’ve seen them before in another face, one that haunts my dreams, torments me, begs me to return. The one who holds my heart.
They have the same line that appears between their brows when frustrated too.
I’ve seen it before.On Max.
“Get me out of here, boy,” he snaps, moving back.
I don’t know if I’m shocked over the belittling title or at the fact that I’m staring at Max’sfather. The man who she thought died in the fire that took her village, her memories, almost her life when she was ten.
He’s her father, I’m sure of it.
Whatever plan I had, officially changes to getting this manout. Max has no memories of her parents, and I’ll not let him rot one moment longer. She needs this—needs him.
My beast stays strangely quiet, as if it knew who he was this whole time and I quickly make work, separating the hinges on the locked door. It burns my hands, but the iron is so rusted, it’s barely a movement of fingers before the door falls off.
He steps through, his feet heavy, boots scuffing the uneven tile. “We’ll need to hurry.” That wasn’t exactly silent. Guards, what little there may be, will be alerted.
Holding the sides, he leans forward, face determined, body frail.
“Well, don’t just stand there.” He gestures for me my shoulder.
“Can you handle a sword?”
The man pointedly glares.
The same look his daughter gives me when I ask a question with an obvious answer. This is going to take time to adjust. Max has always been unique to me but seeing such similarities, is surprising.
Carefully, I adjust my arm, allowing my strength to aid him. His legs are stiff, body broken from age and too little food, but he keeps going. We get to the dungeon’s stairs and look up. No one has come for us yet, but I know it’s only a matter of time before they do.
“How long have you been here?”
The Human sighs, as if I’m the one stalling us.
“For over fifteen years.” He looks at the top door, grim frown on his thin lips. “We need to get back to the Shadowlands. Maximillia needs help.”
Worry and panic claw into my gut, prompted by his grave words. “What do you know?”
The Human moves forward, taking the steps deliberately slow. I see how his knees rock, buckling under his weight. He’s trying not to fall.
“Setitalks to me.”
