Page 235 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Starsdamnit.Garrik laughed again. “Make thattwo.” There was little threat there. He may not admit it verbally, but Garrik was grateful for the distraction. For the laughing, the worrisome touches, the— “Talking,” Garrik realized, rasping. “I’m talking.”

“I’m as shocked as you. You hardly ever talk,” Thalon taunted, running his fingers along Garrik’s shoulder, inspecting the wound—missing the blade. When Garrik only glared at him, Thalon dropped his baiting grin and solemnly explained, “After they beat you, the guards only nulled your powers. They didn’t think you needed the other to keep you immobilized and unspeaking.” He frowned, stretching the ripped fabric over the knife wound and pressing it tight.

Garrik swallowed blood, hardly remembering a beating—glad for the loss of memory. “They were right.” It would not matter if they used it again, Garrik could not move.

His Guardian was thorough, despite being restricted behind the bars. Thalon managed with great resistance from his shoulder and chest, only allowing him to reach so far, to lightly poke and examine every broken bone, gash, and wound.

When it was finished, the cold rim of a dented metal cup pressed his lips. Garrik swallowed down stale water, eyes closed, drinking in the too-short comfort to his throat, then asked, “Your magic?”

Thalon frowned. “The guards were skeptical of my tattoos. Drugged me as a precaution.” When Garrik swallowed the last of the water, he asked, “Are you able to give me your hand?”

“I am a mated male. Don’t think Alora is interested in sharing.”

Shaking his head until his cheeks swelled, Thalon motioned to the hand he could not reach.

Garrik was not certain he could. The slow twitch of a finger was answer enough. But his hand was not seriously injured. A flick of his eyes meant that only a few scratches and dried blood covered it. Unless Thalon meant his raw wrists, the skin flayed and festering. But he had experienced shackle wounds too many times to care. The scars would return by morning. It was little to be troubled about.

“Camp,” Thalon interrupted, face bleak.

Garrik did not need to turn to his Guardian to know he was already looking.

His rings. The shield.

Staring at the stones overhead, Garrik assured him, “The shield remains.”

Those golden eyes glazed with confusion. “You were able to twist it in the dining room?”

“After,” he corrected. “During the?—”

An iron door groaned and opened up the staircase.

Neither of them trembled as the flicker of torchlight strengthened, beaming long shadows along the wall and down the steps. The sounds of their boots were unrushed. Languid. Lazy and carefree as metal scraped along the stones used to strike fear into awaiting prisoners. A sound that might have made lesser males quake, but to Garrik and Thalon it had little effect. Not because Garrik was so terribly injured that he was unable to, but the thought of a blade excited him. Of what he would do once that guard’s sword was in his hand.

All he needed was?—

The guard shrieked. Something crashed and sent him tumbling.

Three guardsmen in a mess of autumn armor and snapping bones rolled until they sagged in a pile below the staircase.

Thalon furrowed his brows and clutched the metal bars, refusing to move from Garrik as another shadow drifted across the wall and down the steps.

Folded buckle boots tapped into view before he did. That pleasantly cheerful voice too. “Anyone in need of a dashingly daring rescue?”

A guard groaned, Aiden lifted his foot, pushed him over, and then polished the leather on the male’s shoulder.

“Aiden!” Thalon was on his feet, moving to the door of his cell. “Where the hell have you been?”

Their sea captain was admiring his theatrics and threw a sly grin their way. “Well, I was at the masquerade.” Aiden smiled dumbly. “Then I wasn’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he turned, then adjusted his belt.

Thalon rolled his eyes.

“Two lovely ladies wanted to show me the High City.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.The High City,” Thalon repeated and tested the door again, glaring at Aiden expectantly.

Aiden’s answering smile was serpentine as he dragged a finger over the spindles of the cells beside Thalon’s. “I returned the next morning to find the castle damn near buzzing about your capture. Took me two bloody days to find a way inside.”

Thalon rattled the door again. “How?”

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