Riyan swept his crimson cape over his shoulders and I jumped off the mattress. His eyebrows raised as I rushed over and held out my hand. He gave me a knowing smile and placed the steel—not gold—Bloodstone pin in my palm.
I raised on my toes and poked the pin through the crimson wool. I was dressing him for a battle he had no idea he was going to lose.
I gritted my teeth behind closed lips. Riyan had sent men to Death to get justice for women he never even knew. “The Beast” would not let any man take his wife without spilling his blood.
My red ember flared in my chest but my mouth was dry as I spoke. “No matter what happens, do not hurt Derrick.”
His mouth formed a hard line, but I responded with an even harder look.
“Swear to me that no harm comes to Derrick,” I ordered.
He hissed out a breath. He was suspicious, but said nothing of it. “Fine, if nothing else but to keep Brietta safe.”
A gentle knock rapped on the door and Riyan swallowed.
“I’ll take that as my cue to head to the courtyard,” he said.
I gripped his cape, begging him not to leave if only for one more heartbeat.
He smiled and slipped the embroidered fabric into my stiff hand. “Find your flowers instead of your fear, sweetheart.”
His hand cupped my jaw and he kissed me one last time. The ice from my blue flame paralyzed me as I watched him walk to the door.
Riyan opened the door. “She is all yours.”
Brietta and Annalisa walked in. Brietta dressed in splendid Hyton Blue, wearing glittering jewels she must have found around the fortress.
“My aim is to be as visible as possible.” Brietta pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “Once the people hear the truth of my escape, negotiations for my return shall begin. I will not surrender until we are all free.”
Well, not all of us would be free.
I nodded anyway, though the familiar numbing fog crept behind my eyes. My feet moved on their own until I realized I was at the wardrobe. I pulled open a drawer until my hand curled around a familiar hilt.
I gently held the blade of the Hyton dagger flat against my palm as I walked over to Brietta.
“Here,” I said, “hopefully you will find it as useful as I did.”
Brietta gently accepted the blade while Annalisa picked through my wardrobe and selected billowing white linen. Simple and comfortable, she explained.
I let her dress me, my arms feeling like they were full of sand as I slipped them into the sleeves.
Annalisa slid my pearl headband behind my ears and told me I looked like a faerie princess.
But I was never a faerie princess. I was always just going to be a slave.
Three knocks echoed through the door. Annalisa furrowed her brows, but answered. Erik was on the other side.
He looked at me and held out his arm. His sleeves fell almost to his knuckles, but I spied flashes of black markings on his hands.
My toes were full of lead as I dragged myself over. I wrapped my arm around my brother’s and he led me through the halls. Annalisa and Brietta followed solemnly behind.
As I leaned on Erik’s arm, I sensed a low energy pulsing through his blood. Magic still coursed through his veins, but darkness stuck to his muscles like thorns.
Only when Erik stopped did I look up. A couple of Bloodstone soldiers pulled the keep’s doors open and Endre bounded up the steps with a wide smile.
Brietta and Annalisa gasped softly behind me, and not just because Endre wore only his Ravenwood cape on his top half. He had black marks all over his skin that were shaped like feathers but pointed like blades. The feathers fanned out like a collar across his chest and decorated his arms like he still had wings.
“What are you doing?” Erik spat. “Coverthoseup!”
