The ground rocks beneath me. I’mmoving. My eyelids flutter open—hard, wooden seats, a door set into the wall—I’m in a carriage.
I try to move, but I can’t.
Shit. My hands are chained to the wall. And judging by the ache in my shoulders and the numbness in my wrists, I’ve been shackled for hours. Tides, how long was I passed out?
The carriage lurches, and my shoulder slams into the wall. Wood creaks. Chains bite. My breath fogs in the tiny space like I’m breathing inside a tomb.
The air crackles, and I can sensehim.
I’m not alone.
“What a relief,wife,” he snarls, voice dripping with venom. “I was beginning to worry you’d never wake.”
I don’t want to look at him.
My husband.
I don’t want to see the gray eyes that glittered with rage as he murdered Daak.
Eyes that will undoubtedly brim with hatred when they land on me.
“A waterwielder,” Zev muses. His voice is colder than the tundra. “Right under my nose for months. In my skiesdamnedbed.”
I force myself to meet his stony gaze. His eyes are bloodshot. There’s no warmth in my husband’s face.
This is the Dark Commander, forged from lightning and steel.
And he hates me.
“Mayah, please. Just … please.”
Then, nothing.
Maybe I deserve this. The poison in his voice, the way he looks at me like I’m filth beneath his boot. I’ve betrayed him.
But that was always the plan.
And I think I might hate him, too. For what he did. Because Daak didn’t deserve to die that way, terrified and confused. And knowing I didn’t love him anymore.
So yes—Idohate him. I have to, if I’m going to survive.
He’s planning to kill me. How could he not? A secret waterwielder plotting to murder him and his family?
I straighten my spine as much as the chains will allow. Every rattle of the wheels echoes in my skull. Iron cuffs dig into my skin. I can’t shift without metal scraping metal. I cast my gaze around the carriage, trying to anchor myself.
The Dark Commander’s eyes sharpen as he watches me.
“Recognize it?” he asks, steel eyes glinting. “It’s the same design as the prisoner’s carriage we rode in when we left Tundrayn. Seemed only fitting we end our journey the way it began.”
My blood turns to ice.
He really does mean to kill me.
I suck in a shuddering breath.
He would’ve been a fool to have water inside the carriage, but there must be a source outside—a stream or a river. Tides, I could make do with a puddle.
I cast out my power, trying to sense even the tiniest drop.
