No. The roses moved with purpose. The air held magic like suspended dust. She was here, somewhere.
I was about to suggest we check the towers when Thibaut cleared his throat. “The dungeon,” he said quietly. “We haven’t looked below.”
Of course. Where else would you keep someone in chains?
The entrance to the lower levels wasn’t hard to find from the inside. A heavy iron door off the study, hanging open as if someone had left in a hurry. Stone steps spiraled downward into darkness so complete it swallowed our torchlight. The cold intensified as we descended, our breath forming clouds that lingered in the stagnant air.
The smell hit us of damp stone, mildew, and something else. Something human. Suffering had a scent, I realized. It smelled like salt and fear and stubborn hope gone sour.
“There,” one of the guards whispered, his torch illuminating a huddled shape at the far end of the corridor. A cell, its door being the only one locked, and within it...
I rushed forward, heart hammering against my ribs from what we saw, but even stranger, the barred door magically blew open. The lock meaningless now that I had come. I didn’t have time to question it. Not with what we all saw inside.
The woman lay curled on her side, facing away from us. Even in the dim light, I could see how thin she was, her body lost within the tatters of what had once been a fine gown. Her hair was matted, filthy, but still recognizably auburn. It poured across the stone floor like spilled wine. Heavy iron shackles encircled her wrists, connected to a chain bolted into the wall.
“Is she...?” Thibaut couldn’t finish the question.
I knelt beside her, holding my breath as I gently rolled her toward me. Her face was gaunt, hollows beneath her eyes deep enough to cast shadows in the torchlight. But her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Alive. Somehow, against all odds, she lived.
And then she opened her eyes.
Amber. Exactly as in my dreams. But in person, they were more. Deeper, older somehow, containing a wild magic that reached for me like the roses had, where beauty and danger intertwined.
God, she was lovely. Even in her weakened state, her features held a devastating symmetry—high cheekbones sharp as cut glass and red lips full despite their cracked dryness. The kind of beauty that could bring a kingdom to its knees with nothing more than a small, knowing smile.
“Get those chains off her,” I ordered, my voice hoarse with an emotion I couldn’t name. “Now.”
One of the guards hurried away, searching for keys. Thibaut knelt opposite me, drawing a dagger to work at the ancient lock binding her wrists. I cradled her head in my lap, pushing matted hair from her face with hands that suddenly felt too large, too clumsy for such delicate work.
“Thou hast been made safe now,” I told her, though I wasn’t sure she could hear me. “I’m taking thee home.”
Her eyelids fluttered, consciousness returning in brief waves. And those amber eyes peeked through that seemed to hold firelight within them even in the dungeon’s gloom.
She looked at me without recognition, confusion drawing her brows together. Then, as Thibaut managed to release one shackle, she gasped. Her free hand shot up, gripping my wrist with surprising strength for someone so emaciated.
“No… no,” she groaned.
I leaned closer, struggling to hear her faint words. “Who did this to you?”
But her focus had shifted. She stared at my hand where it rested near her shoulder, then reached up with trembling fingers to pull aside her tattered collar. There, stark against her pale skin, were scars. Bite marks, in a perfect crescent.
“No,” she whispered, her eyes suddenly clear with panic. “Leave me. I must stay.”
Thibaut freed her other wrist, the shackle falling away to reveal raw, chafed skin beneath. She tried to sit up, failed, her body too weakened by what must have been months of starvation and exposure.
“Please,” she begged, fixing those extraordinary eyes on me. “Leave me. I must stay.” Her voice faded as unconsciousness claimed her again, her hand going limp in mine.
I looked up at Thibaut, whose face reflected the horror I felt. “What monster would do this?” he asked quietly.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I gathered her in my arms, shocked at how little she weighed. It was like holding a bird with hollow bones, something meant for flight now grounded by cruelty. Whatever had happened here, whatever she thought she needed to stay for, I wouldn’t leave her to die in this cold cell.
“We ride for Durand,” I said in answer instead, rising with her cradled against my chest. “Now.”
Thibaut didn’t argue. He simply led the way back up the winding stairs, torch held high to light our path. The woman’s head lolled against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck despite everything she’d endured.
Outside, the horses stamped nervously, eyes rolling at the scent of the blood roses. I passed her briefly to Thibaut while I mounted, hating our momentary separation even with a man I trusted. Something didn’t feel right about my connection to her, but I couldn’t help it. Then took her back, arranging her carefullybefore me on the saddle. Her body curled instinctively toward my warmth, seeking protection she’d been denied for too long. I wanted to keep us like this, but I also knew we had to leave these blackened woods before its monsters found us.
As we rode away from the ruins, I felt the dream-thread in my chest loosen, no longer pulling me forward now that I’d found what I sought. In its place grew something new. A fierce, possessive certainty that this woman was important beyond my understanding. That saving her was more than a rescue… it was destiny.
