Page 65 of Chaos Tempted

“Iron!” I screech. “Guard! You must remove the iron from them immediately. They will die.”

“All prisoners get the shackles.” The guard doesn’t budge from his post.

“Not elves! It will be their deaths.” I glance inside the rest of the room, though it’s hard to see inside the dark cells.

Jaden is passed out in the corner. He doesn’t answer when I call to him.

“Oakes?” I yell.

“Where are you? Are you shackled too?”I ask via our psychic link.

“Wyn? I’m in here,” Oakes says aloud, with little energy. He doesn’t seem to be able to communicate through our mental connection. “They separated us so that I couldn’t heal them. Not that it matters. I can’t access my abilities with the iron draining me of my strength.”

Thatis why he couldn’t speak mind-to-mind with me.Thatis why when I tried to locate them psychically, they were barely a whisper in my mind. The guards are killing them slowly and painfully, draining their essence and magic.

“Where are our guards?” I peer through the tiny windows to see the four Elven protectors collapsed against the cell walls, similarly restrained with iron shackles. I curse.

A fire rages in my heart, and I’m ready to burn the entire castle to the ground. I spin on my heel to attack the guard at the entrance of the dungeon.

Clearly seeing my intent, Rhys catches my arm and pulls me to him to prevent me from assaulting the guard. He holds my arms to my sides and whispers, “Don’t get yourself thrown in here.I will fix this.”

I gaze up at him in surprise. “Why?”

“Because this is wrong, and I don’t want a war,” Rhys hisses, obviously irritated that I don’t understand how he feels about the situation.

“He’s right,” Oakes says, just loud enough for my ears. “Don’t do anything to get cast in here.”

“If Rhys doesn’t get you out, I will,”I promise Oakes, whispering through the bars.

“Don’t risk yourself for us.” Oakes’ voice is barely audible.

How long do they have?

“I’ll take care of it,” Rhys says with authority. “Let’s talk to the dungeon master. Perhaps we can straighten this out.”

Rhys takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he pounds on a door.

“Come,” a gruff voice calls from inside.

Rhys opens the door and allows me to enter ahead of him.

The man jumps to his feet, taken aback by the sudden appearance of royalty in his office chamber. “Princess? What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

I square my shoulders and try to project calm and authority. “I have just been down to the dungeons and discovered you had the elves iniron. This treatment is on the verge of killing them. The iron must be removed immediately.”

“Our protocol is to shackle all prisoners.”

“But they will die. And soon!” I’m losing the battle for self-restraint and look at Rhys for help in convincing the man. “Surely, the king doesn’t want them to die.”

“I’m sorry, but His Majesty specifically saidnotto spare them our usual treatment.” The dungeon master looks away, shamefaced.

“What?” I stumble back. My father gave death sentences to my mates and our guards. “How could he? This is murder,” I whisper to no one.

“You mean hewantsthem to suffer by the irons and die?” Rhys asks in disbelief.

“I believe so.” Then the dungeon master says to me, “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

I flatten my lips to keep from saying something I might regret. But what can the man do without landing himself in the dungeons?

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