Nerian’s smile unleashes. “I knew my lifestyle would grow on you.”
I hum at him, keeping my fizzing temper held deep within. I peer up at Second beside me. “Which one for you?”
His chin jerks to me, and understanding flashes.
Second pins his hands behind his back, forcibly restraining himself, and then walks the cages like he owns the place, and I fucking love him for it.
“I’ll take both of these,” Second growls, his eyes locked on two cages, dark braided hair in one and blonde curls in the other.
“You can pickone,” Nerian scolds.
Second turns a raised eyebrow on the king. “You’re courting my queen and my kingdom. I’ll take both.”
Nerian pauses at the gall. Finally, he acquiesces. “Anything for Queen Veya and hersecond.”
“Excellent,” Second says, and his hands move like lightning through the fire that could kill him, ripping the door of the dark-haired girl’s cage off its hinges. Then he snaps, and the other barred cage door is slamming against the opposite wall faster than our eyes can track.
“Eager male,” Nerian says, salivating and eyes flashing crimson.
“Always has been,” I reply, my smile genuine as Second’s girls peer at him warily, scooting away from the opening.
Charlotte strides to the unlit, dark cage in the corner. I can barely see the girl curled and shivering in the back of it.
“What happened here?” Charlotte asks, her hands gripping the bars.
“Ah, Violet is a naughty girl. Tried to escape.”
How?!
Violet’s eyes flash into the room, and bright plum sparks through the dark. Eyes like Del’s.
“Show yourself, Violet,” Nerian drawls, practically drooling on himself.
Frail, pale fingers grip the bars as Violet pulls herself into view, her raven-black hair and strong jawline make my breath catch as I stare at Del’s spitting image.
Holy gods.
I leash any reaction. And I don’t dare look over at Del and draw Nerian’s attention.
“I’ll take the naughty girl,” Charlotte coos, drumming her fingertips along the bars in a taunt, and her fangs pop from her gums.
Gods, she’s brilliant.
Desperate to get these girls out of here as soon as possible, I approach the siren. Her red-orange curls rival the flame licking around her.
“Will you join me in my rooms?” I beckon.
Her green eyes find mine again, emeralds gleaming in an abandoned mine.
“It would be my pleasure,” she slurs, and my heart cracks for the drugged girl.
Nerian approaches the cage beside my siren and presses a mechanism that douses the fire and opens the door, the woman within cross-legged and ignoring him. He grabs her ankle and yanks her out of the cage, dragging her along behind him.
“If they’re not turned or dead by sunset, it’s your heads,” he tells us as he hoists his girl up the stairwell and leaves us in his cellar, her soft pleas growing faint, and my soul mourning that I couldn’t save her.
Or the others—fourteen cages are still filled.
I scan them, determination settling in my bones. We’ll get them out, too.
