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“Spies? They were looking for the Magician,” she shot back, glaring up into his face.

Farras blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, he’s not here, is he?”

Everything he’d said solidified at once. He wanted the throne. He’d use her to get it. He’d destroy her family if she refused. And he’d killed Rafe’s pack.

What wouldn’t he do to get his way?

In one smooth motion, Lila reached behind Farras, grabbed one of the bottles still full of wine, and swung. Surprise was on her side. The glass smashed against the lord’s skull, sending a shower of blood and merlot across the black and white tiles. He went down, bouncing against the refrigerator as he fell.

Lila jumped back as he slumped at her feet. She dropped the broken bottle and raced for the door.

She may well have doomed them all.

CHAPTER 26

Rafe came to, his skull throbbing as if an ax had split it open. Pain was the first sensation. The second was the taste of blood and dust, as if he’d breathed in the fine grit from the tiled floor.

Recollection seeped back. He’d fallen—been pushed—through the door to the dungeon. After a moment of confusion, he realized he was facedown with his feet still on the bottom step. His forehead felt bruised and the spot between his shoulder blades burned as if it had been struck with a brand. He slowly tucked in his legs and rolled onto his right side. Happily, nothing seemed broken, although the room swam as he stood. He swallowed his rising nausea and pulled his phone from his pocket. Luckily, it was intact, but despite the time display, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. Maybe a few minutes? Not more than a half hour, but a lot could happen in that time.

Lila. Rafe hadn’t seen what happened in the seconds he’d been plunging down the stairs, but the result was clear. Someone had her.

A series of images flashed through his mind—Lila dancing, Lila at the graves in the woods, Lila soft and welcoming beneath him. She didn’t belong in a cage, any more than the wind or rain. Any more than a wolf. A low snarl ripped from Rafe’s throat as he considered his next move.

The only light came from dim sconces sunk into the walls at distant intervals. It was enough to see the door at the top of the steps was closed. It was probably locked, but he had to try it anyhow.

As he reached for the stair rail to climb back up, his knuckles hit something hard. He stepped back, confused, then reached again more slowly. It was like bumping into an invisible brick wall a quarter of the way up the stairs. Feeling a little like a French mime, he felt his way from one side of the stairwell to the other, from the steps to as high as he could reach. While his eyes saw nothing, his fingers told him the story of a wall—rough, cold, and tingling with wild energy that raised the hair along his forearms. Whoever had pushed Rafe down meant him to stay down.

Cursing, Rafe backed away from the stairs. Lila was on the other side of that barrier, and instinct begged him to hurl himself at it until it gave way. How strong could an obstacle be if he couldn’t even see it? But this was magic, and brute force wouldn’t work. He’d have to reason his way past.

He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to think. There were other exits. He’d used some of them in company with his jailors. If he could get out of the basement, he could search for Lila. And he’d take advantage of the search. They’d been on their way here to hunt for Teegar and finding the captain still mattered. Rafe would check the cells while he looked for a way out.

He set off at a brisk pace. He remembered Lila telling him about a confusion spell that kept intruders from finding their way through the dungeon. Since he’d usually been escorted in and out, he hadn’t personally suffered its effects. Still, he didn’t want to waste time going in circles. When he got to the first corner, he took out the ring of keys he’d found in Ademar’s office and scored a mark on the wall. Then he kept going, memory telling him to veer right.

The cells were widely spaced, only one or two doors a side down each hallway. Rafe stopped at the first few, listening for signs of life behind the steel doors. He didn’t have one of the fobs that activated the keypads, but he checked the doors for old-fashioned key locks, just in case one of the keys on the ring might prove useful. By the time he checked a half-dozen cells, a sense of futility crept over him. There were no keyholes and no sounds. More to the point, he wasn’t finding any exits.

At the next turn, he left two short marks. At the next, he left three. Not a sophisticated system, but it would do. He checked a dozen more cells and was on his way to his fourth corner—how big was this place?—when the sound of footfalls froze him in place. Step-step-click. Step-step-click. A man with a cane. Lila’s brother.

Sound bounced off the hard surfaces of the corridor, making it hard to tell which direction Ademar was coming from. Rafe pressed himself against the wall, making himself as small as possible as he peered around the corner. It was only then he noticed the faint scratch in the paint. Rafe’s stomach dropped. It was the single mark telling him he’d gone in a circle and was no closer to getting out. Fido’s balls!

He slid around the corner, but it was a miscalculation. Ademar entered the passage from the other direction. Rafe fell back a step while the fae stopped cold, his expression thunderous.

“Face to face at last and without my sister to save you,” Ademar drawled. “Unlucky dog.”

The possibility of violence hung like a fog in the air. Rafe was unchained and free to shift, but Ademar was too close. The fae would be on him before he fully changed. Rafe had no gun, no knife, nothing but his phone, and he’d never heard of texting a fae to death. Then his hand slid into his pocket and found the bundle of keys. They were almost as good as brass knuckles.

Ademar limped closer, his eyes dark with hatred. “You have no idea how much pleasure I’d find in reducing you to a carpet stain.”

Rafe pulled the bundle of keys from his pocket, then closed his fist so the points stuck out from between his fingers. “You won’t find me such easy prey.”

“Good luck with that.” Ademar flicked his hand.

A circle of blue flame ignited around Rafe’s feet, penning him where he stood. The fire was blazing hot but left no mark on the floor or walls. Rafe shuffled his feet, inching his boots away from the heat. Smirking, Ademar shrank the circle another inch, clearly prepared to make a game of toast-the-wolf. Then he caught sight of the keys in Rafe’s grip, and his brows dipped in fury.

“Give me those,” the fae snapped.

The metal ripped from Rafe’s fingers, taking skin and leaving deep scratches behind. The bundle flew to Ademar’s palm, where he inspected the ring, clearly checking the keys were all there. “You were in my study. I assume Lila took you there.”

Rafe said nothing, just closed his fist around his smarting fingers.

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