Page 7 of Claws of Death

“Oh, I do think he’ll come,” Ephegos continues our audible conversation while I do my best to block out what that thought does to the chambers of my chest and the warmth spreading from the inked lines on my shoulder. “And when he does, I’ll no longer have need of the Flame halfling.”

Kaira shudders, and this time, I catch a glimpse of thought she didn’t intend to send my way. It’s a whisper of terror, but I see it anyway.

“Whatever we do, we’ll need to do it soon. The moment Myron shows up, I’m dead.”She means it.

“You saw her. Now it’s time to return to your chambers, Princess,” Ephegos interrupts before I can respond.

“I’m not a princess.” Not even half true. Technically, I am. And not-so-technically, I am more than a princess. I’m Queen of Crows—hisqueen. Naturally, Ephegos doesn’t acknowledge my title and role for the Crow Fae.

Before I can tell him I don’t care, time’s up, his claws lock around my arm again, the only sign he’ll ever show of his Crow self, and he drags me away from the cell.

“I’ll return soon. I’ll find a way so he lets me visit you again.”Perhaps then we can figure out something—anything—that will help us get out. “I promise.”

But Kaira shakes her head. “Don’t come back.”Before I can object, she adds, “Find a way for Erina to summon me to your chambers. We’re more likely to escape if I’m already out of the dungeons.”

She’s right.

“Be brave, Ayna,” she calls after me in her audible voice while, in her mind, she tells me, “I don’t want to die in here, Ayna. And I don’t want you to suffer for the rest of your days. We’ll find a way.”

I wish I had her faith.

“Enough.” Ephegos shoves me past the corner, and Kaira’s presence fades from my mind.

At least, now I know the length of a hallway is enough distance to sever that connection. The momentary sense of achievement fades fast the second I realize I’m alone in my head again. Alone with Ephegos and a palace of ignorant people who won’t lift a finger to help me.

Myron

A new scaris forming on Herinor’s skin right where I split it at the edge of his jaw. The male was smart enough not to fight back after he told me it’s his fault Ayna is still in Meer rather than with us—withme. He took my punches with grace, never complaining when I landed a few good hits born from the force of my fury. Had my magic kicked in then, I’d have happily killed him for his failure, but with my powers bound by the drug, all I managed was to add to the landscape of white lines on his features.

That was days ago. Herinor has done nothing to heal himself—as if accepting the pain gives him some sort of redemption. He hasn’t spoken to me either. Perhapsthat’s for the best. I’d only lash out again, and this time, any blow would be deadly. My powers are back almost in full force, and the battle injuries from the dungeon have nearly healed entirely.

Yet, I’m not enough to save my mate from the prison Erina and Ephegos put her in. Astorian spent hours talking me out of blindly running to my own demise, convincing me to think things through instead. Erina has the substance to bind magic. A weapon that evens out the advantage we have over the human soldiers. Combined with the drowsiness and nausea that comes with the ingestion of the drug, even our physical superiority won’t matter.

We need a plan, and a good one.

I shift on the rock I’ve been using as a seat, eyes on the small fire crackling in the gentle wind sweeping across the grassy plains. How I’ve allowed the fairy general to talk me into taking even a step away from Meer is beyond me. Perhaps it’s the reassuring knowledge that I’m not the only one who lost something.

Herinor saved me, but the part-Flame he has a soft spot for disappeared while he got me out.

My gaze cuts through the smoke, finding Herinor studying me while he rubs his fingers across the uninjured side of his face. Princess Cliophera sits next to him, legs crossed at the ankles, and stares out into the darkness of the open land.

After centuries of being confined to a forest, the lack of shelter deeply unsettles me.Anythingdeeply unsettles me these days. Especially when it isn’t a plan to get Ayna out of Erina’s hands.

“We’ll get her back,” Royad placates my rising temper, his hand resting firmly on my shoulder as he watches me study the others.

It’s as much a promise as anyone could give who has no power over the outcome of this drama.

“Sooner rather than later,” I add to clarify I won’t be sitting around one day longer, no matter how we’re all fighting to regain our powers. Even Cliophera is still recovering, despite having a majority of her ice-summoning ability under control once more.

“Can’t you just step through the world with that magic of yours and summon an army?” Silas prompts, joining the conversation from his spot by a boulder where he has made himself at home on the grass, turning over the meek weapon in his hand. If I didn’t know the Crow can turn any piece of metal into a deadly weapon, I’d believe he’s concerned the short blade won’t be enough to disembowel Erina’s guards and pin Ephegos’s traitor ass to the ground.

“That would be convenient,” Astorian answers for his mate, arm wrapping around her shoulder more tightly as if he’s worried she might slip away if he lets go for as much as a heartbeat. “But neither of us is in a state to site-hop after what we’ve gone through.” The absence of his usual smug and teasing tone tells me all I need to know about how drained they both still are.

“Don’t you think I’d have already site-hopped straight for my brother and warned him if I could?” Clio adds with familiar bite. At least, her anger is no longer directed at me since her mate is once more free.

Mine isn’t, though.

“So, if we can’t go back to Meer without reinforcements, we’ll march north until we make it to the Seeing Forest.” I’m more surprised than anyone by Herinor’s determination. Perhaps it is because Ayna isn’t the only female left behind.

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