"She's bleeding, right shoulder," Daniel said, looking down at his own dark and glossy hand covered in my blood.

Aric didn't ask questions, just took my hand in his and pressed it over the wound. I gasped, the force of magic applied to the wound every bit as painful and shocking as it had been to be stabbed.

"Shhh, it'll pass, princess," Aric murmured, his eyes focused on his work. "Stars above, Bryony, what is that?"

I glanced down at my fist, still wrapped tightly around the wreath of leaf blades and shook my head. "I needed a weapon."

Aric's mouth was warm on my forehead, my cheeks, my mouth briefly, although I wobbled as I tried to chase the touch. "Let it go now. I have you."

My grip was stiff and eased slowly, and I realized that whatever I'd fashioned, I'd done so around my fingers, like a dangerous collection of rings fused together, refusing to be stolen from me.

Aric peeled our fingers off my shoulder and pushed my gown aside, wiping away my blood to see that my skin was whole again, although it looked like there might've been a mark left behind. He frowned and then carefully eased my new weapon off my other hand, passing it to a stunned Cosmo.

"Good girl," Aric murmured, kissing me again and then lifting me into his arms.

"Thao, Wen, escort Farraque as he takes this scum down to the dungeons."

Thao and Wendell didn't ask any questions, just transformed into their tigers as Daniel slid the sword in the sheath hanging over his shoulder, watching as Thao prowled around Emory's trembling form. I didn't know if the man was shaking because of cold or bleeding or Thao, but I reached my hand out in his direction.

Emory let out a garbled scream as I thrust magic in his direction, not caring if I did as tidy or thorough a job of healing him as Aric had done with me.

"Bryony?" Cosmo gasped.

"We need to question him," I said, my lips numb with cold, my body shivering, and rage burning through me hotter than any fire ever could.

23

Daniel

Agreat orange tiger, Thao, I reminded myself, lay in front of the locked cell we'd thrown Emory into hours ago. Emory was collapsed in the corner, head hanging down until his chin sat on his chest. I didn't know if he was sleeping or dead or ill, and I wasn't sure I particularly cared.

I was returning after a hot bath and a plate of food I barely knew what to do with, my head too full of the recent events.

I knew what the council wanted. What Emory had full permission from Jonathon Roderick to do with Bryony. I was here in the palace on their behalf. I was meant to be their ally.

I'd stopped Emory from killing her, or more likely doing more damage. Bryony held her own, even unprepared. If she hadn'thealedhim, a shocking revelation of her power, I suspected he'd probably already be dead.

I flinched as Thao stood, the tiger vanishing in lieu of the man. He shuddered, and water dripped off of him, still there from before his transformation.

"The cell is warded by Aric's magic. You can't let him out," Thao said, glaring at me.

I didn't bother objecting, only nodded. "Cresswell and Stanley Piper are coming shortly," I said.

"Good." Thao groaned and rolled his shoulders, eyes still narrowed at me. "I'm going to the others… Thank you for preventing him from harming her any further," he said, and hurried to leave the small room of the cellar.

I sagged against the wall, eyes on Emory, thoughts on the princess tucked away in her suite, no doubt surrounded by the comforting figures of her Chosen. Had she healed Owen too? How much was she capable of?

A chuckle from the shadow of the cell sounded and I stiffened, glancing over as Emory groaned and lifted his head from his chest, neck cracking as he stretched it.

"You get your hero's fuck in?" he asked. "She finally spread those witch's legs for you after that clever stunt? Fuck, Dan, I did you a favor didn't I?"

Emory was a wreck, and I suspected he not only knew it, but that it was a deeper scar on his pride to be dirty and bruised and broken than it was to be locked up.

"You should've run," I said.

"Let me out and I still can," Emory answered just as quickly.

We stared at one another, Emory barely visible in the shadows, me lit up by the torch fastened at the wall. I could guess what he was thinking, but he could probably see it written all over my face.