As absurd as it is, my hackles raise. “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman laughs, and this time I can tell it’s coming from the cell across from mine. I squint through the darkness. Is someone in there after all?
There’s a hint of movement in the shadows and my eyes widen as a very short woman gets up from the floor. She’s wearing a ragged black cloak, which blended so well with the stone behind her I didn’t see her, but now she moves toward the bars of her cell and stands across from me.
As she steps into the dim light from my window, I see that she’s not wearing a cloak at all. What I took at first to be a ragged cape is actually long, black, slightly matted hair. It’s so long it drags on the floor, as if she hasn’t been able to cut it in decades. After a moment, when I’m able to tear my eyes off her hair and look at her face, a wave of recognition hits me. Those eyes are entirely too familiar, and similar to Aurelia’s in a way that Silvia’s never could be.
I know exactly who this is—who it must be—but the name escapes me. I wrack my brain, trying to find it on the very edge of my memory. “Amora?”
I must get her name right, because Aurelia’s mother draws back.“Who are you?”
The question catches me off guard.
Who am I, exactly? I don’t really know. I’m the commander of the Vernalli army, and now the reluctant alpha of a second army. I’m a soldier and a prisoner and a half-breed.
I swallow hard. “I’m with Aurelia.”
Amora cocks her head in confusion. “Who?”
That takes me off guard again.
Maybe I have the wrong person? I would think so, except that Amora looks a lot like both Aurelia and Silvia. Being Fae, she hasn’t aged like a human would, and looks to be about the same age as both her daughters. She’s dirty and wearing rags, but I can tell that underneath that she has the same small build and heart-shaped face. Her skin is a shade or two darker and more olive toned, her features somewhat sharper, but otherwise they look fairly similar.
“Your daughter, Aurelia. She’s here.”
Amora’s face twists in confusion for a moment, then her face transforms, shock washing over her features. “My daughter is here? Now?”
I nod. “She came from Vernallis to find you.”
I think it’s the word “Vernallis” that does it. The remainder of suspicion clears from Amora’s face, to be replaced with desperation. Her knuckles whiten as she grips the bars. “Where is she now?”
I press my forehead against the cold iron. “I don’t know,” I admit, hating the words as they leave my mouth. “But I need to get back to her. Before Silvia?—”
Amora recoils at the sound of Silvia’s name. “They’re together?”
I nod again, not wanting to tell her that the last time I saw Aurelia she was unconscious, and Silvia is the one who poisoned her.
“What’s your name?” Amora asks, her eyes narrowing on me again with curiosity rather than suspicion.
“Fox. I’m—” Again, I struggle with how to describe who I am. I almost say I’m Aurelia’s mate, but for some reason that lie is starting to bother me. I don’t want to keep saying it until it’s true. “Aurelia is mine.”
Amora nods, as if that makes total sense to her. Maybe it does.
“I need to get out of here and find her,” I growl.
Amora’s face falls, her shoulders slumping against the bars. “I’ve tried everything,” she whispers. “The cells are warded against magic and shifting. There truly is no way out.”
“That can’t be true, there’s always a way out. I escaped fucking Dyaspora, this is nothing compared to that.”
Amora’s eyebrows raise. “How did you do that?”
I open my mouth to answer, then close it again, suddenly remembering that Thorne was the one who helped us escape. Amora was once engaged to Thorne and probably won’t appreciate being reminded of it. I doubt she even knows the curse is broken or that Thorne is dead. “It doesn’t matter. I have friends who are nearby and will help.”
She grimaces, looking doubtful, but just says: “I hope you’re right.”
I am right. I know I am because I have to be. The walls are warded against shifting and magic, but evidently not against telepathy. Runa is with Connell and Jett, and Connell can escape from fucking anywhere. I have to believe they’re coming.
“How did you end up here?” I ask.
