Page 68 of Hidden

But she hadn’t been the first to leave. Izetta—battle-hardened and wise to the city’s underground players—had gone for help and not come back. He’d done what he could by giving Lila the names of his friends and allies, but would she be any safer? She certainly wasn’t helpless. She was skilled with magic and cool-headed in a fight—Rafe had learned that the hard way.

He followed her path to the road, anyway. She drew him as if the silver cuffs had been replaced by something forged as they lay together. It was stronger than logic or mere protective instinct. They had come together first as allies, then confidantes, and now because they had called to each other, flesh and soul. There had been no conditions, no expectations but their need for each other.

He’d endured enough battles to know the future held no guarantees. And yet, just this once, he wasn’t willing to let the slim chance of holding her again slip away.

Rafe moved silently, ghosting between the trees. Loam and cedar scented the air, along with the bitter, exhaust-flavored tang of the road ahead. Above all that was the intoxicating scent of Lila herself. Maybe he followed her just to breathe it in as long as he could.

Soon he would have to concentrate on his own safety. Hiding from the fae, even for a few days, would test his skills to their limits. He hoped Lila would find help quickly.

She picked up speed, moving too fast for him to follow in human form. He quickened his pace as she vanished from sight, grateful for the path that led through the tangle of trees.

The land began to rise, ascending from the natural valley that separated the south side of the way station from the road. A few places were steep enough he grabbed craggy roots and saplings to keep his footing on the slippery ground. He caught sight of Lila once she neared the edge of the property. He smiled at the confident energy in her stride. She was almost free.

When the flash came, he dropped to his belly, covering his head from hard-won instinct. Detonation. But not a kind he recognized.

When he looked up, Lila tumbled down the incline like a discarded toy. Rafe sprinted toward her, clambering up the hillside in a shower of stones and leaves. Lila had landed facedown and unmoving beside a stump hidden by ferns. Rafe dropped to his knees beside her, panic an acid taste on his tongue.

His mind raced. What had she said, back in the dungeon? No living thing can leave this way station without permission. But wasn’t such magic meant to pen intruders? Prisoners? Surely not other fae?

And hadn’t she said it was fatal? Gingerly, Rafe brushed the tangle of hair from her face. Her features were slack and smeared with dirt, but she was breathing. He ran his hands beneath her and down her limbs, checking for blood and broken bones, but found nothing. Then he grasped her shoulder, shaking her gently. “Lila?”

The breeze was carrying the burnt-toast stink of magic from the top of the rise. With only the slightest variations, that scent was always the same. It didn’t matter who or what cast the spell, it had the same choking stench.

“Lila, wake up!”

He cursed under his breath from sheer relief when her eyes fluttered open. She moaned weakly, her fingers twitching as she gathered herself to sit up.

“Careful.” He kept his tone kind but matter-of-fact, the way he’d been trained by the Silent Wolves. “Think before you move. Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.” With a groan, Lila pushed herself up until she knelt beside the ferns. She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples. By her sickly pallor, Rafe guessed it was a lucky thing she’d eaten lightly at the banquet.

“What happened?” Rafe asked once she finally opened her eyes again.

Dawning realization crossed her features, collapsing into what looked to him like dread. It took two swallows before she found her voice. “I can’t leave. They fixed it so I can’t go home.”

Rafe inhaled sharply. A wave of rage froze his brain—fury that someone had put her in danger—but he slowly pushed the anger down. He couldn’t help her if he couldn’t think straight. “Are you physically hurt?”

“No. I’m no good to them dead.” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if suddenly chilled to the bone. “But every fae attuned to the security of the way station will have felt the spell activate. We can’t stay here. We have to move.”

Rafe rose and helped her to her feet. She swayed, letting him take her weight against his side. Slowly, he guided her a step at a time to level ground.

“I don’t understand,” she ground out. “Mother. Ademar. Why would they do this to me?”

Rafe couldn’t guess fae motives, but he understood pack. “There’s something they believe only you can give them.”

“Lord Farras.” She bit out the name. “Or perhaps Farras himself set the trap. I escaped him once, thanks to Father. Maybe there will be no second time.”

“What did your father do?” Rafe asked.

“He ended our betrothal.” She stopped moving and pulled away as if she’d finally found her balance. “And now he’s in prison on ridiculous charges.”

The anguish in her voice seared Rafe’s heart. “I’m sorry.”

“I want to help him.” Her chin trembled, and she bit her lower lip to stop it. “I want to save my family. I can’t do it by submitting to a monster. Even if I do, he’ll never stop.”

That sounded unbearably complicated. Rafe put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close again. She tilted her face up to his. Tears reflected the moonlight and turned her eyes to silver pools. Rafe’s chest filled with a swirling sensation, as if he’d been drinking for days.

“No child, willing or not, should be used as a sacrifice,” he said. “That goes against pack and nature.”

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