Page 98 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

“Stay calm,” I muttered to myself, the words a mantra against the rising tide of panic. “There has to be a way.”

My fingers traced the cold, unyielding iron of the cell doors, the chill seeping into my bones as I let out a frustrated sigh. The keys, if they even existed, were nowhere to be found, and the locks were unlike any I’d seen before—imbued with a magic that repelled every attempt at picking them.

“There’s no point,” came a voice, ancient and gravelly like stones tumbling down a mountain. “You’ll never find a way out.”

I whirled around and my gaze snapped toward a neighboring cell where another prisoner sat in the dark. He looked like nothing but eyes glinting out of a pile of hair and rags, and I wondered how long he’d been down here.

“Shut up,” I snapped. “There has to be a key somewhere.”

“No key,” he chuckled dryly. “It’s only the king who can open the doors.”

“Well how does he do that?” I demanded.

“Blood,” he replied bitterly. “Royalblood.”

The words resonated within me, setting off a flicker of hope in the darkness of my despair. Without hesitation, I reached for the dagger in my boot and sliced my palm, smearing my blood across the lock of Scion’s cell.

Nothing happened. The door remained firmly shut, mocking my efforts.

“Fuck,” I growled, bitterness coating my tongue.

I was no true royalty; my blood was as powerless here as I was.

“Let me try,” Bael spoke up, his voice cutting through my defeat.

“Why?” I asked. “I’m wearing the damn crown and it didn’t work. It has to be Gancanagh’s blood.”

Bael looked at me, his eyes widening. “I know.”

Oh.Oh.

I rushed over to him, my excitement rising once again. I passed him my dagger and he cut his own hand, and smeared it over the lock as I’d done.

I held my breath, watching the blood trace a path over the intricate carvings of the lock. There was a moment of silence, so profound that even the whispers of the castle seemed to pause in anticipation.

Then, the door began to groan, a sound that seemed wrenched from the very bowels of the castle itself. As the door yielded, inch by grudging inch, I could almost sense the reluctance in its movement. Bael’s hand remained pressed against the cold metal, and with a final, resentful creak, the cell door swung open.

“Yes!” I screamed, practically giddy from success. I rushed into the cell and threw my arms around Bael. He held me tight for a long moment, and once again I felt tears pricking the backs of my eyes.

Quickly, Bael moved to Scion’s door, repeating the blood ritual. Again, the castle relinquished its hold, and the door opened.

I didn’t hesitate. My arms flung wide, I rushed forward, embracing them both in a tangle of limbs and emotions. We stood there for a long moment, before Scion pulled away.

His dazed gaze had mostly cleared, but he still looked a bit wild, untethered. “Let’s not celebrate yet,” he growled. “We’ve still got to get out of this damned place.”

His statement was like a rock falling into the pit of my stomach.

A wave of guilt washed over me, realizing that I’d been so focused on getting my mates back, I’d completely forgotten about the other person I loved.

“Wait, we can’t go yet,” I insisted. “Have either of you seen my mother?”

Bael cocked his head to the side, bewilderment in his eyes. “Your mother?”

I nodded, already pulling away from them to peer into the other cells. My heart sank with realization as I checked those at the end of the row.

She wasn’t here.

I’d already gone past every cell in this place, and Bael and Scion were practically at the end. The only other person held deeper than them was the old man who’d known how to open the door.

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