Page 4 of The Prince's Captive

So she needed them to believe she was Hypatia with no hint of doubt to put off that vision and buy herself time to figure out an escape.

However unlikely an escape was with her unable to reach her vitae with their Abyss-tainted manacles on her. If she didn’t… it was only a matter of time until they realized they had the wrong girl and she held no value for them. She was just another Sordes whose blood they would water the ground with.

“Sit still, demon.” Her captor tightened his grip on her as he forced her to turn back around, but instead of forcing her completely forward, this time he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her so her shoulder was nestled against his. He shook his head. “Do you—fall off?”

Marcella hissed when his hand brushed her burnt side.

He muttered something again and shifted his hand down so it didn’t aggravate the burn.

Actually, if she did fall off she’d have a chance to—

“—think about it,” he grunted, looking down at her. “—far with that—hurt yourself.”

Marcella couldn’t help her scoffing, short laugh before she could think better of it. Like an Inimicus would care about her getting hurt, even if she was Hypatia. Especially if she was Hypatia.

His eyes widened at her mocking laugh, and Marcella kicked herself for not playing the part of the terrified clan princess better.

Not that Hypatia would have been a whimpering, trembling mess, but the Inimicus would expect her to be.

Then his gaze darkened and he said, “Behave. No harm. Crimes not punished.”

Crimes?

There could be no crime committed against an Inimicus. It wasn’t possible. Every act against them was justice.

Marcella just scoffed, narrowing her eyes back at him. Well, it was too late for the terrified, trembling mess, so she might as well embrace what Hypatia was actually like and put on her best act.

The blond Inimicus shook his head and urged his horse on faster, carrying her farther and farther away from her people, who were carrying Hypatia in the opposite direction.

As the forest kept flying by, her captor rode toward the front of the group, occasionally calling out in his language what seemed to be orders as the men always moved to change direction or formation after them. She didn’t understand why the leader would be the one to cart her off personally—maybe he just didn’t trust his men enough to handle a Sordes, especially one as powerful as Hypatia was.

The sun had started to set high above between the leaves of the trees, casting everything in a glow that was only marginally less golden than his hair. He pulled back on his reins and sat back as his horse and his men slowed to a stop. Marcella looked around but there was nothing about this section of the forest that seemed particularly noteworthy other than the fact it was rockier. Certainly not whatever camp the Inimicus had set up to operate out of for their kidnapping.

Her captor finally lifted his hand from her side as he let go of the reins with the other when his horse came to a stop. His fingers flew through the air, and Marcella recoiled, trying to get away from him as he cast, but in a second, he was done. Then the air in front of them shimmered, and Marcella let out a choking gasp as a rune dissipated and revealed that what had appeared to be forest around them was actually a clearing with an Inimicus camp set up in it.

Her sharp twist to take it all in had her starting to slide off the horse.

Her captor was an Inimicus illusionist.

He caught her again, nearly falling off himself to do so, and the other Inimicus surrounding them laughed. He righted Marcella on the saddle before moving to dismount himself, and as he did so, he glared at them and said something in his tongue.

“—any of you—soldiers—sordidus lupa?”

Several of the Inimicus lowered their gazes and set to getting off their own horses, chastised by whatever he said.

One of the words he’d said sounded a little like Sordes, and Marcella stiffened. If he was going to keep insulting her and her people, the least he could do was attempt to do it in her language and to her face.

She might be nothing, but at least she wasn’t Inimicus.

The Inimicus who had almost caught her before wasn’t as cowed as easily. He opened his mouth as he dismounted and said something with a slight roll of his eyes which caused some of the other men to laugh. What he was saying only seemed to get under the blond’s skin further as his eyes darkened and his face started to turn red. “—proven to be—face isn’t—seen on asordidus lupa—a demon?—soon enough,Imperator.”

That last word Marcella recognized.

And it had her eyeing the blond more harshly than before. He was an Inimicus commander as well.

The highest position an Inimicus could achieve. Only the most powerful of their mages were granted that rank. She’d always imagined their commanders had to be… more wrinkled. She’d only ever seen them from a distance and on the battlefield.

Her heart slammed into the ground. If she’d been captured by an Inimicus commander—even if she had access to her magic—escaping would be a miracle only Asentai could perform, and so far Marcella had not seen any favor from the goddess.

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