Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

MIRELLA

W e walked for hours.

With every step, my body screamed at me to stop. My boots rubbed against my heels, forming stinging blisters. My chemise stuck to my sweaty back. More sweat dampened my temples and gathered at my nape. The few bites of bread I’d shoved into my face as I tended Ingaret were long gone, and now my stomach gnawed at my spine. My jaw throbbed from Gerren’s fist. The shadow tether bit into my wrist.

But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t give the elf the satisfaction. And I had little doubt he’d simply drag me to my feet and force me into a faster pace. He’d shown zero regard for my well-being so far.

Although, that wasn’t quite true. He’d frowned when he examined the bruise on my jaw. And for a brief moment when I told him Gerren was responsible, the elf had looked almost…furious.

I shook my head to clear the image from my mind. I couldn’t allow myself to believe he felt any sympathy toward me. He’d demonstrated that when he shoved his hand under my skirts and touched me everywhere .

After you tried to kill him , a little voice reminded me.

My stomach clenched, the memory of the elf’s bloodied abdomen filling my head. He’d kept his purple eyes locked with mine as he gathered his intestines and pushed them back inside. His flesh had wriggled , sealing itself in under a minute.

When he grabbed my braid, I’d prepared to fight for my life—and lose. What I hadn’t prepared for was his glittering, furious eyes boring into mine as he touched every part of me, including places no one had ever ventured. A hot, twisting humiliation had spun through me as his long fingers pressed between my thighs, finding the slit in my drawers before skimming and slightly parting the seam of my sex. The sensation had flared higher when he pushed the thin fabric into the furrow of my buttocks, his face so close to mine I could see the faint lines radiating from the corners of his eyes.

But the slight imperfections didn’t age him. His skin was too smooth, his body too lean and muscled for that. At the same time, something old and potent hovered around him. It dwelled in his eyes, which burned with alien intelligence. No one looking into his eyes would ever mistake him for something other than a creature of Ishulum.

He was otherworldly. Deadly. And, as he’d said, I’d been stupid to stab him.

But he hadn’t killed me. He hadn’t even really harmed me, even if he’d looked ready to pounce in the moments before I drew my knife.

He’d looked different, too. Distant. And for a few seconds, his purple irises had appeared almost…black.

A caw split the air, jerking me from my memories. On either side of the path, shadows hovered between the trunks of the twisted, blackened trees. The air was still and heavy, a thick blanket of dread hanging over every skeletal branch and pile of dead leaves. Silence reigned, broken only by the crunch of the elf’s boots and my rapid, shallow breaths.

Another caw rang out, and then a crow fluttered across the path in front of the elf before settling on a tree branch. I held my breath as it folded its wings, a rattling sound emanating from its chest.

The elf ignored it. He continued forward, his long, black hair swinging against his back. He hadn’t looked at me once since he said he wanted to hurt me. But he hadn’t followed through on his threat. Clearly, he wanted me alive.

But for what?

The crow tilted its head as I passed, its round, black eye pinned on me. I’d seen no other animals since I crossed the Covenant. But I’d heard them. Or, at least, I’d heard something . Screams and grunts. High-pitched screeches and deep moans.

The elf never gave any indication he heard them. He simply continued moving forward, pulling me toward some unknown destination.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

The elf didn’t respond. At my back, the crow released another loud caw .

I looked over my shoulder in time to see it flit to another branch. The tether jerked hard, and I spun around with a gasp as I was forced into a trot. Still, the elf faced ahead, his stride steady.

“Where are you taking me?”

Nothing.

Anger boiled up. What would he do if I just sat on the ground? Drag me?

I gnawed at my lip as I discarded that idea. For all I knew, he was perfectly capable of hauling me over the leaves. Or worse.

But if he was going to do worse, wouldn’t he have done it already? And why did he insist on walking the forest path when he could simply step from one shadow to another? The drops of elven blood in my veins allowed me to run the shadows in short intervals. When I was rested, I could pull another person with me. My father’s range was even broader. His strength ten times greater.

Surely, an elf of the Autumn Court was a master of the shade?

Then again, maybe he simply wanted to make me suffer. He’d said as much.

Well, he’d accomplished that. My head swam with fatigue and hunger. Thirst plagued me, fantasies of crisp water and goblets slick with condensation dancing in my mind.

My anger swelled. Leaves crunched. The elf’s cloak swirled around his boots. I had some sort of value to him. If I had any hope of surviving, I needed to know what it was. The more information I gathered, the better my chances of keeping my head attached to my shoulders.

“You haven’t told me your name,” I called.

The elf kept walking. A second crow fluttered to a branch a dozen steps away. It twitched its head this way and that, then released a sharp caw . Behind me, the first crow gave what sounded like an answering rattle.

The elf paid them no mind.

“Fine,” I said. “I guess I’ll just talk to the crows.”

The elf spun. He was on me in a blur of movement, his hand under my chin before I could draw breath to scream. His eyes had burned before. Now, they were cool, indifference in the purple depths. “That would be even more foolish than stabbing me.”

“Why?” I tried to pull from his grip, but he tightened his fingers.

“I tire of your game, Lady Mirella. One of us will end it. You don’t want it to be me.”

My heart thumped faster. “I’m not playing a game. You took me from Andulum. I merely wish to know the name of my captor.”

He studied me, his pine and clove scent teasing my nostrils. He bore no signs of travel, his hair and face as fresh as they’d been at the Covenant. “Rane Laruthian,” he said finally, “First Lord of the Autumn Court, Chief Advisor on the King’s Council, Captain of the Watch, and bodyguard to King Andrin Verdalis. And since I’m feeling generous, I’ll answer your first question. I’m taking you to King Andrin’s seat at the Embervale, where you’ll answer for your crimes.”

My stomach lurched. “I’ve committed no crimes.” But I had, of course. His tattered, bloodied shirt was proof enough of that. He was a noble with a string of titles. I was a human. Even if his king believed I’d acted in self-defense, he was unlikely to rule in my favor.

Rane dropped his hand from my chin. “Your father committed plenty. We have a saying in Autumn. The poisoned tree yields rotten fruit. We’ll soon find out if you’re as duplicitous as your sire. Until then, you’ll serve the sentence he earned.”

Fear and confusion fogged my mind. “Of what crimes do you accuse my father? Whatever they are, you’re mistaken.”

Rane’s lips curved in a mocking smile. “A full-throated denial, my lady. We’ll see if it holds up under scrutiny.” He lifted a hand. More tattoos slid down his neck and disappeared under his shirt. A second later, shadows slid from under the cuff of his shirt. They rushed up his hand and then curled from his fingertips like smoke, thick tendrils forming sinuous shapes above his fingertips.

I held my breath, not daring to move.

His eyes glittered. “Now, you can either walk silently or walk gagged. Either way, you’ll walk.”

My throat went dry. The shadows rolled slowly, as if they awaited his command. Because they do , I realized. He’d wrapped one around my wrist. Nothing stopped him from slapping one over my mouth.

I couldn’t give him that power. For as long as I had a choice, I’d exercise it.

“I’ll walk silently,” I said.

He closed his fist, smothering the shadows. Inky feathers and vines appeared under his collar and ascended his neck. The designs moved almost sensually, sliding over each other before stilling at last. Without another word, Rane turned and headed up the path.

The tether pulled, yanking me forward. Clenching my jaw, I followed.

When I looked back for the crows, they were gone.

I didn’t have much time to ponder Rane’s claims about my father’s so-called crimes. Less than an hour after we started walking again, the forest changed.

It was subtle at first, just a hint of light filtering through the trees. Then the shadows thinned, and fewer dead leaves decorated the ground.

The light swelled, as if the rising sun waited just over the horizon. Warm and golden, it spread over the forest, which continued to change with every step. The path widened, and more shadows rolled back. Flowers appeared between the trees, fat clumps of orange mums and deep purple asters drawing my gaze. Birdsong filled the air.

My fatigue faded as the gnarled, blackened trees gave way to towering redwoods and fragrant spruce. Bold, straight oaks marched alongside maples bursting with orange and yellow leaves.

A few more steps, and the path opened onto a vast, rolling meadow. Orange and yellow leaves drifted from the sky in a slow, lazy descent. Just before they hit the ground, they winked out of sight.

Awe and curiosity spread through me. As the golden glow intensified, I looked over my shoulder. Behind me, the forest remained dark and forbidding, the trees cloaked in shadow. For a second, a pair of eyes appeared in the gloom. They glowed yellow before winking out.

The tether pulled, yanking me around. Ahead, Rane strode over the meadow like he didn’t have a care in the world. I glared at his back and kept moving.

The golden light continued to spread. A breeze picked up, carrying notes of nutmeg and vanilla. More birds chirped, filling the air with sweet, trilling songs. I reached a hand out toward one of the spiraling leaves. It brushed my fingertips before fading from sight.

The ground trembled, and a rumbling sound made my heart speed up. Seconds later, a deer crested a hill and then thundered toward Rane.

My heart jumped into my throat. Even at a distance, the deer was huge, its muscles rippling under its sleek mahogany coat. The meadow was wide open, with no place to hide. Instinctively, I tensed to run.

Rane stopped, seemingly unbothered by the rapidly approaching animal. Sunlight glinted off its antlers, and small clumps of grass flew under its hooves. When it was no more than a dozen feet from Rane, it shifted to shadow.

Shock dropped my jaw. For one beat, the shadow deer continued its gallop. As its hooves struck the ground, it changed form again, twisting into an elven male in silver armor. He landed at a run, then slowed to a jog.

“My lord,” he said, stopping before Rane and offering a bow. He wore no helm, and his long, brown hair streamed over his shoulders as he straightened. Dark tattoos of leaves and prancing deer covered his neck. He flicked a glance at me before focusing on Rane. “We expected you sooner.”

Rane made a low sound. “By we , I can only assume you mean Andrin.”

The knight blinked. “I… His Majesty expressed concerns for your lordship’s safety.”

Rane clapped the knight on the shoulder. “As always, Sir Castien, you’re a model of diplomacy.”

Sir Castien hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of Rane’s compliment. “Um, thank you, my lord?” He dipped his gaze to Rane’s midsection. “Are you hurt, sir?”

“No,” Rane said. Swinging toward me for the first time, he snapped the tether. It tightened around my wrist, yanking me forward.

I let all the hatred and frustration of the past several hours pour into my expression as I held his stare.

“Come,” he said, facing away and continuing his march. Sir Castien slid a look toward me, curiosity touching his eyes before he turned and fell into step beside Rane.

More hatred sizzled through me as I followed. If I’d had any questions about my status in the Autumn Court, they were answered now. I was beneath notice. Unworthy of even the most cursory introduction. Rane and Sir Castien spoke in low tones, snatches of conversation drifting back.

“…the whole court.”

“If the king wills it…”

“…Purecliff.”

The last made my pulse pick up. Rane seemed convinced my father had wronged the Autumn Court. But that was impossible. My father had spent his life warning me away from the Covenant. He punished villagers who went near it.

But Rane’s anger was real enough. Something had provoked it. I’d been away from Eftar for two years. That was plenty of time for my father to tangle with the elves. But as powerful as he was, what could one elfkin do against the might of the Autumn Court?

Dust motes swirled in the air. The leaves continued their leisurely descent, a few brushing my hair before disappearing. We crested a hill, and a soaring castle appeared.

Purecliff rose from a mountain. This palace was a mountain, its facade a series of steppes dotted with towers and arches. Hundreds of windows sparkled with golden sunlight. Thick trees with red and orange leaves decorated wide terraces. At the top, elegant towers were crowned with pointed, golden roofs.

Tiny figures moved on the terraces. As we drew closer, a horn sounded. Sir Castien shifted, forming into a shadowy deer. He held that form, black ribbons arcing from his flanks, before sliding into his solid, glassy shape. With a flick of his tail, he bounded toward the castle.

The horn split the air again. On the terraces, the tiny figures stopped, then faced the meadow. Several wore armor, which flashed in the sun. A few were obviously ladies, their long dresses as brightly colored as the trees.

Self-consciousness prickled through me. My hair was a sweaty, ratty mess. My gown was ruined beyond repair, its hem ragged and stained brown with mud and the gods knew what else. Dried blood crusted my hand where I’d thrust my knife into Rane’s stomach. And Rane’s tether circled my wrist, forcing me to trail him like an animal on a leash.

My throat burned, and my face heated as dozens of eyes fastened on me. Swallowing, I held my head high as Rane pulled me under a lofty stone arch and into a massive courtyard.

A cluster of elven knights waited, their heads bare and their expressions grim. My stomach twisted at the sight of the broadswords strapped to their waists. Bright leaves continued spinning toward the ground before fading from view. Sir Castien clip-clopped over the stone pavers. Halfway to a broad staircase, he shifted to two legs and then continued striding toward his fellow knights.

Another shadow streamed from a covered walkway, the inky current weaving its way across the courtyard before forming into an oversized rabbit. The creature rippled and then shot upward, transforming into a tall male with white hair. Other shadowy creatures arrived, arcing through the air before striking the pavers as eagles, bears, and giant cats. One by one, they transformed into graceful elves dressed in court finery.

Embarrassment squirmed through me as the crowd grew. Elves clustered at the tops of staircases. They craned their heads, clearly angling for a better view of Rane’s prize.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. The words became a mantra in my brain as I kept my gaze straight ahead. Rane had spoken of me serving my father’s “sentence.” That meant I could count on staying alive, right? I couldn’t serve anything if King Andrin executed me.

Against my will, my eyes darted to the knights’ broadswords. Images of my head rolling across the pavers splashed through my mind. I blinked furiously, willing them away.

A tall elf stepped to the edge of the crowd, a thick, wooden staff in one hand. His long robes opened to reveal a stitched jerkin and dark trousers. Sunlight picked out the lighter pieces in his honey-blond hair. He wore half pulled back from his face. The rest fell over his shoulders in loose waves. His brow furrowed as he watched my progress.

Awareness lifted the hair on my nape. For a moment, I wondered if he was King Andrin. But I swiftly dismissed that idea. The blond elf stood alone among a sea of nobles. And while his clothes were rich, they were no more exceptional than those of the elves around him.

His frown deepened, curiosity and something else in his eyes. Not disdain. No, it was more like…recognition. As I passed him, the flicker of emotion fled, making me wonder if I’d seen it at all. He eased back into the crowd, and the moment passed.

Lords and ladies gawked, whispering among themselves as Rane led me to the center of the courtyard. He stopped, then swung toward me with a shuttered expression. With a flick of his wrist, he jerked on the tether. Anger and humiliation fired through me as I stumbled to his side.

An elf in a long, elaborately stitched coat appeared at the base of a tall stone staircase. “Andrin Verdalis, King of the Autumn Court, Guardian of the Kree, and High Lord of the Edelfen.”

At the top of the stairs, thick wooden doors swung open. A man stepped out and then descended the steps.

Every elf in the courtyard went to one knee. The tether jerked, and I hastily knelt before Rane could pull me off balance. Through my lashes, I watched King Andrin—because he couldn’t be anyone else—move down the staircase.

He wasn’t dressed like a king, either. He dressed like a warrior, his tight-fitting breastplate engraved with a golden tree. Leather trousers hugged long, muscular legs. An emerald green mantle pinned to his shoulders fluttered behind him. His red hair was arranged in an intricate braid that showed off his pointed ears. Tiny white flowers marched down his hair, which fell just past his waist.

But the flowers didn’t detract from his masculinity. Power flowed off him in thick waves that brushed my skin and made my heart beat faster. He was bigger and more muscular than the other men in the courtyard, his build more like the knights I’d met in Nordlinga. And like the men of Nordlinga, a short beard hugged his jaw. As bright as his hair, it drew attention to his hard slash of a mouth. Like Rane and the others, his neck was covered with swirling tattoos. But his were so bold and thick I couldn’t make out the design. More inky swirls peeked from the cuffs of his shirt.

Silence reigned in the courtyard as he gained the last step and crossed the pavers. I lowered my eyes as he stopped before Rane.

“You’ve returned,” he said, his voice low and deep.

I sensed rather than saw Rane look up at him. “Yes, my king,” Rane said just as softly. “I always do.”

An odd sort of tension stretched. It brought my head up, and I held my breath as Andrin stared down at Rane with narrowed blue eyes. He seemed angry, but also fascinated , as if Rane was a puzzle he dearly wished to solve.

Just when the tension grew almost too thick to bear, Andrin extended a hand and pulled Rane to his feet. The king pulled Rane into a brief embrace and spoke quietly in his ear.

“If only you’d learn to ask permission before you leave.”

Before Rane could reply, Andrin stepped back and faced the crowd. “Rise, all of you. The First Lord of the Autumn Court has crossed the Edelfen. We thank the gods for his safe return!”

Cheers erupted as the nobles surged to their feet. I stayed put, my knee pressed to the hard stone, which seemed like the safest course of action. Rane nodded to the clapping nobles but was otherwise still, as if he disliked the attention. When the crowd quieted, Andrin touched Rane’s torn shirt.

“You smell of blood.”

Rane looked at me. “She tried to kill me.”

I tensed. Whispers raced around the courtyard, along with several low growls. The image of my head tumbling across the stones flashed in my mind again. But Andrin didn’t need a blade. Some of his people were shifters. Maybe all of them. He could probably snap his fingers and order someone to kill me with a slash of their claws.

Andrin’s blue eyes fastened on me. The menace I saw there made me suck in a breath. “So she’s a feral little thing,” he said. “Does she travel?”

Rane studied me with a dispassionate expression, as if he examined livestock in a pen. “I didn’t test her. But considering who she is, I believe we can count on it.”

Andrin stepped past Rane, his eyes like chips of ice as he slowly approached me. The weight of his power threatened to bow my head again, but I managed to keep my chin up even as I longed to sink into the ground and disappear.

The crowd was deadly silent as Andrin towered over me. He extended a hand, the gesture almost courtly.

Indecision wavered through me. But what choice did I have? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slid my hand into his.

Magic sparked against my skin, the snap of power pushing a little cry from my throat before I could stop it.

Andrin’s eyes widened as if he was just as startled. But he recovered quickly as he pulled me to my feet. He dropped my hand, only to capture my chin. My scalp prickled as menace flowed back into his eyes.

“In the Autumn Court,” he said, “feral little things wear collars.” Without breaking my stare, he raised his voice. “Bring me a binder.”

Murmurs rose behind him, followed by quick footsteps. My stomach knotted as a knight appeared at his side, a golden collar in his hands. Sunlight gleamed along ominous-looking glyphs that circled the band.

“No!” I cried, trying to step back.

Andrin tightened his grip. His brows pulled low as he nodded to the knight. “You don’t have a say here,” he told me. “And you certainly don’t say no . Eliminate that word from your speech, Mirella of Purecliff. You won’t need it again.”

The knots in my stomach tightened. My chest heaved, my breathing ragged in my ears as the knight lifted my braid and fastened the collar around my neck. There was a soft click , and then heat circled my throat. It burned uncomfortably hot for a moment before spreading down my body. A subtle weight settled around my shoulders. I knew without asking that I was blocked from running the shadows, my gift rendered dormant. For as long as I wore the collar, I was trapped in Ishulum.

Andrin released me. I tugged at the collar, fury and humiliation as hot as the metal around my neck.

“You can’t do this,” I blurted. “I’ve done nothing—” I snapped my mouth shut as images of Rane’s intestines formed in my head. I looked at him, all the injustices I’d endured at his hands making my voice hoarse. “I defended myself, and you know it.”

His eyes were as hard as Andrin’s. “This is what I know, my lady. You struck with the intent to kill. That makes you a murderer in truth if not completely in deed. Your father was a thief.” He drifted closer. Behind him, orange leaves spun slowly toward the ground. He spoke softly, but his voice carried over the hushed courtyard. “Your father escaped. Rest assured, you will not.”

“Take her,” Andrin said. Knights sprang forward, gripping my arms.

Andrin spun in a swirl of emerald green mantle.

“What did my father do?” I demanded. When Andrin ignored me, I raised my voice. “At least have the courage to face me when you level your baseless accusations!”

Gasps rose from the crowd.

Andrin spun around, his eyes wide with obvious fury. He stormed back to me, and I shrank in the knights’ grip as I prepared for a blow.

But he didn’t touch me. He stopped an inch away, stormclouds in his blue eyes. “You’ve seen his deeds. You walked through them on your way to my court.”

Confusion pummeled me. Did he mean the forest? Visions of the twisted trees and stifling shadows filtered through my mind.

Andrin’s nostrils flared. “You dare to speak to me about courage. Walto Lornlark ripped the beating heart from this kingdom. He stole the Kree, and now we die by inches, every day blacker than the last.”

My mind raced. Kree? My father as a thief? It didn’t make sense.

“Walto Lornlark took my people’s future,” Andrin continued. “So I’ve taken his daughter. You better hope your sire believes you worthy of an exchange. Because until then, you’ll serve this court with elven gold around your neck.”

Andrin turned again and stalked away. As I watched him go, my hopes sank along with my heart. Because I knew something he didn’t.

My father didn’t think I was worth whatever trade Andrin had in mind. And he wasn’t coming for me.

The knights swept forward, hurrying me across the courtyard. Heads turned as we passed, the elves’ expressions ranging from curious to outright hostile. The collar was a stifling weight around my neck. Impossible to ignore or forget.

We bypassed the tall staircase, entering the castle through a set of tall, wooden doors that opened before we reached them. The knights didn’t speak or so much as glance at me as they continued their brisk pace, their fingers tight around my arms as we navigated a series of wide, labyrinthine corridors.

Even with panic fluttering in my stomach, I couldn’t deny the castle’s beauty. Soaring wooden pillars were carved to resemble trees. High overhead, the green ceiling sparkled like glass traced with silver the way veins webbed across a leaf. Vines climbed the walls, some of them dotted with the white flowers King Andrin wore in his braid. Wooden chandeliers held dozens of candles that danced with balls of light instead of flame.

I waited to leave the beauty behind—to turn down a dark, dimly lit corridor or descend a set of steps leading to a dungeon. Instead, the knights hauled me into a wing even more opulent than the one we’d just left.

Jeweled lanterns cast colorful patterns on the polished stone floor. Statues of solemn-looking elves loomed in alcoves. Tapestries embroidered with forest scenes decorated the walls. As we passed, a phantom breeze appeared to move through one tapestry, setting the trees’ orange and red leaves fluttering.

Another massive set of carved wooden doors lay at the end of a broad hallway. Once again, they opened without command or touch, and the knights carried me through them.

Elegant apartments spread before me, signs of unmistakable wealth everywhere I looked. Towering bookcases lined the walls, the shelves stuffed with leatherbound books. A fire crackled in a grand fireplace at the far end of the chamber. Lush carpets spread over the stone floors. Chairs and sofas upholstered in rich greens and golds clustered around carved tables of various heights and sizes. An arched opening offered a glimpse of an adjoining chamber.

And in one corner, a large wooden cage hung suspended from the ceiling, its base about four feet off the ground. Big and round, the contraption resembled a bird cage, but it was sized for something much larger.

The knights dragged me toward it.

“No!” I cried, twisting my body as I kicked at the knights’ legs. They simply tightened their grips and lifted me off the ground.

I squirmed as they carried me forward, but their hold was unyielding. My heart pounded wildly as I cast a frantic look around the chamber, searching for a weapon—or anything that might help me. But there was nothing. Just luxury and my looming prison. In a final surge of strength, I twisted and sank my teeth into one of my captor’s hands.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, dropping my arm. The other knight quickly grabbed me.

“We’ll have none of that,” he grunted, bending and planting a shoulder in my gut. The breath whooshed from my lungs, and nauseating memories of dangling over Gerren’s back spun through my head. Before I could rally, the knight thrust me into the cage and slammed the door.

I landed on a cushion in a tangle of skirts. Light zipped around the cage’s thick, smooth bars. The door clicked softly. Then it disappeared.

Scrambling to my knees, I lurched forward, setting the cage rocking as I searched for a way out. The door was gone , as if it had never existed. A scream of frustration ripped from me as I gripped the bars and shook them. The cage swayed, wood creaking like a ship at sea.

The knights stared at me. The one I’d bitten cradled his hand against his breastplate. “She really is a feral little thing.” He examined the bite, which slowly repaired itself. “Like an animal.”

The other knight shrugged. “That’s probably why King Andrin put her in the cage.”

I tightened my grip on the bars. “ You’re the animals. Every single one of you.”

The first knight scoffed. “Doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

“Come on,” his companion said, tugging on the first knight’s shoulder. “I hear tonight’s feast is supposed to be a wild affair.”

They turned, ignoring my shouts. Seconds later, the chamber’s double doors closed behind them with a low boom .

Leaving me alone in the cage. The fire crackled merrily. Sunlight streamed through windows that stretched almost to the top of the soaring ceiling. A soft cushion covered the bottom of the cage. Plump pillows formed a small mountain against the bars. Andrin could have tossed me in a dank cell in his dungeon. Instead, he’d imprisoned me in what appeared to be his bedroom. Just what did he plan on doing with me?

My heart sped up as I touched the collar. Andrin had declared I would serve his court with elven gold around my neck. He didn’t mention clothes, and he didn’t specify what kind of service he had in mind.

Drawing my knees up, I hugged my legs to my chest. My throat burned, but I refused to cry. If the chamber truly belonged to Andrin, he’d return at nightfall.

And when he did, I’d be ready for him.