Would they even forgive me if I returned? Are they all still alive?
The ache that builds behind my ribs is raw and unrelenting. I haven’t felt anything this strong since waking up, and for a second, I welcome it. Pain means I’m stillme.
But I can’t afford to crumble. Not now. Not in front of him.
I have to figure out why I’m here and what this place is.
“So, this castle is run by magic?” I ask, knowing thatwould make sense given the things I’d seen back in NightShade.
“The Keepismagic,” Malrik corrects, folding his hands behind his back. “And it listens to you.”
“I don’t want it to listen.”
The words come out sharper than intended, childish even, but I don’t care. Panic claws at the edges of my composure. I’m stuck in a castle that breathes when I do, obeys when Idon’t, and even if I were magically influenced, I feel as though I walked right into it willingly.
What the hell have I done?
“Then learn to speak more gently,” he says sharply, then tugs unnecessarily at his left sleeve. “You’ll come to understand soon enough.”
“Or I’ll find a way out.” I don’t mean to say that bit out loud, but I also don’t take it back. I can’t be weak here. Whatever I am, whoever Malrik is, this is life or death. I know that in my bones, and I’m not ready to be done with this world, nor am I willing to become someone’s plaything.
I’ll figure out how to right the wrongs I’ve made.
Malrik’s eyes glint, a shimmer of silver sliding through gray. “Hope is such a fickle thing,” he muses. “I don’t usually approve of it. But for you, young one, I might make an exception.”
He approaches the wall, pausing just long enough that his shadow falls over me. “Rest now, Rowan. We begin your lessons at dusk.”
“Lessons in what?”
“In control,” he murmurs, and as he passes, the air chills enough to fog my breath.
The door opens—only for him—and seals shut behind him without a sound.
Silence swells, thick and absolute. The hum fades to a whisper, but it’s still there, coiling under my skin like a second heartbeat. I lean against the wall, pressing my palm flat to the stone. It’s warm now, faintly pulsing.
When I whisper, “Let me out,” I swear the wall sighs like it’s considering it.
But then nothing happens. Well, nothing that I want.
An involuntary yawn escapes me, and I do what Malrik suggested: I rest. I might not like where I’ve found myself or even what I’ve become, and more than that, I very much dislike my captor, but I know one thing.
I’m not getting out of here by hoping Malrik might be the savior he promised to be.
I also can’t be stupid enough to think he can make any of this better.
Only I can do that, and if I want to see my family again, or even daylight, I probably shouldn’t fail now.
Chapter 2
CADE
Every room in NightShade still smells like Rowan. Jasmine and a warm summer storm, threaded with that smoky undertone that only ever came from her strength. But there’s something else, too—something soft that doesn’t belong in a place built for war. That quiet sweetness I’d tried to ignore when she first arrived. It’s fading now, thinner with every breath I take, and I fucking hate it.
Still, I cling to the scent as I stalk through the corridors toward my room, her memory caught in the cracks of broken stone and in the blood that’s dried across my hands.
I should clean up the sight of death. It’s not helping to clear my head and come up with a plan, but this mess is a reminder of what I have to fight for. Of what’s at stake if I don’t find my mate.
Of what I already failed to protect.
