Lincoln wouldn’t knock, which meant…

Oh, god.

I slid to the side, then my whole body went rigid as Deuce opened the door.

“Bring her,” a male voice said.

Deuce grabbed my arm and yanked me off the floor.

I pulled away from his grasp. I didn’t need him to drag me. I was capable of walking on my own.

The man walked in front of me, and Deuce behind, leaving me trapped between them. Every hard step on the stairs was like a death knell. The stairwell was lit only by a few carefully spaced sconces on the wall. It reminded me of The Sanctuary.

“Where is Lincoln?” I asked the man who had knocked on the door. He was walking too slow. I needed to get downstairs and find out what happened, why this man was at the door, and who had sent him.

He was tall, taller than Linc, and burly. A full beard hid most of his face, but his eyes were a steely gray and cold. He ignored me and kept on walking.

“Where are you taking me?” My voice grew louder with every word. “What happened to Lincoln?”

Silence.

My mind reeled and my heart raced. Nothing about this felt good. Music drifted up the stairs, dark and foreboding. It felt like an omen.

I followed the man and Deuce around the corner and into the auditorium. The lights above the cage were dim with only a faint glow from the balcony.

My breath left my lungs in a whoosh the moment I saw Lincoln. He was standing in the center of the cage. Alone.And alive.

Where was Grey?

Everything around us glowed red from the spotlights above, making the place feel like a crypt or underground catacomb. My blood ran cold at the eerie sight of it all. The seats were all empty except for the first row outside the cage where Malcolm Huntington, Pierce Carmichael, and King Winston sat. Seeing them lined up that way, in their custom suits, with an ankle casually propped up on a knee was all too familiar. My stomach roiled as we got closer.

“Where the fuck is he?” Lincoln’s rage was apparent in his voice.

Grey wasn’t here?

Grey wasn’t here.

Anguish pricked my skin, skittering over me like ice then shattering my heart.

He lied.

I trusted him and he lied. I let Lincoln trust him.

Oh, god. What happened now?

The man in all black nodded, and Deuce grabbed my arm, his grip bruising and harsh. “I guess you get to see your boyfriend again after all,” Deuce said.

I yanked my arm but he was too strong. My feet stumbled up the stairs.

Lincoln’s eyes went dark and wild the second he saw me. “Get her out of here.” The muscle in his jaw clenched as his gaze fell to where Deuce held my arm. “Stop fucking touching her. Get your goddamn hands off her. I told you toprotecther and you bring her straight into the lion’s den?”

Deuce grinned, taunting Lincoln. “Isn’t that what fresh meat is for?”

In a flash, the grip on my arm was gone and Lincoln had Deuce by the front of his shirt, shoved against the cage.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Malcom’s sinister voice sounded behind me.

Lincoln’s bare fist connected with Deuce’s jaw, pushing his head into the fence. He hit him again, this time blood poured from his nose. And again. More blood trailed from his brow.