Page 97 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

Still, the moment he saw me, his yellow eyes lit up and a wide grin stretched across his face. The prince sprang to his feet and rushed toward me. “What are you doing here?”

Without waiting for my reply, he extended one muscular arm through the bars and dragged me forward.

Our lips met with urgency, our bodies pressed against the cold metal bars separating us. I shook with a mixture of fear and desire as I poured out all my emotions into that one desperate kiss. Every inch of my being longed for this moment, and as we finally connected, it was like a floodgate had been opened, releasing all the pent-up feelings of terror, longing, and relief that had been building inside me.

This was more than just a kiss. It was a release, a connection, a promise of everything to come.

“How are you here?” he asked again, pulling back to look me dead in the eyes.

“I’ll always find you,” I replied with a smile.

He grinned back. “How did you get into the castle, though? Are yo?—”

I pressed my fingers to his lips to quiet him. “I’m fine, and the rest doesn’t matter right now. Where’s Scion?”

His smile slipped from his face faster than a flame winking out. He pointed vaguely to the right, down the darkened hallway behind me. “I don’t know, little monster.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

He looked pained. “He stopped responding to me.”

My heartbeat jumped again, my excitement at finding Bael immediately clouding with fear. I pulled out of his grip, and ran down the rest of the hallway in the direction he’d pointed. “Scion?” I yelled. “Where are you?”

Several cells down, I found him.

But, it was not the same happy reunion I’d just had with Bael.

Scion’s cell seemed darker, as if the prince were shrouded in his own illusions. He looked in worse shape than Bael had been, either because the king’s guard had used more force, or because he’d fought harder to escape—I couldn’t tell which. As I approached, he looked up at me, but his silver gaze held no recognition.

“Scion?” I demanded, rattling the bars of his cell. “My lord!”

His silver eyes met mine, the magnetic pull of them tainted by the pain etched around their edges. “Go away,” he muttered. “You’re not real.”

“Like hell I’m not.” My voice cracked as I desperately clung to the prison bars, my knuckles turning white from gripping them so tightly.

What the fuck was going on here? What could’ve possibly happened to change him—confuse him—make him not know me? “Please,” I pleaded, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. “It’s me.”

He turned away from me, showing me a back that had clearly been whipped with Source-forged steel. “Get the fuck out of my head.”

“Don’t do this to me.” I choked, real tears pouring down my face. “I fucking hate you for this.”

His back stiffened, and he slowly turned back around. “Say that again.”

For a moment, I couldn’t fathom what he was getting at, but then I understood. “I hate you,” I insisted, ignoring the pain that burned my throat. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

His gaze finally lifted and met mine again, and I saw recognition spark in his silver eyes. “Rebel?”

“Yes.”

He murmured something too fast for me to hear, his lips moving rapidly as he jumped to his feet and rushed toward me. I reached through the bars, and held on to him, never wanting to let go again.

He pressed his forehead to mine through the bars, and finally I was able to make out what he was saying: “I love you. I love you, I love you.”

Tears still streaming down my face, I finally laughed. “I’m going to get you out. Both of you.”

I scanned the room, searching for any object that could break open the cell doors. A key on a hook, a lever, even a rock would do.

My hands shook as they skimmed over damp walls, tracing the lines of mortar between stones, hoping for some hidden mechanism, some secret lever to reveal itself beneath my desperate touch.

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