LOGINNyra didn’t scream.She’d worked too many night shifts for that. She’d had a man with a knife climb into the back of her rig once, high on something purple, and she’d talked him down with a granola bar and a bad joke about the Yankees.So she sat up slowly. She kept the sheets clutched to her chest. She looked Dax Morrow right in his scarred eye.“Do you always break into women’s bedrooms?”“Only the interesting ones.”“That’s a no, then. That’s just sad.”His smile slipped a fraction.“You’ve got a mouth on you.”“I’ve got a lot of things on me. Most of them are yours to keep your distance from.” She tilted her head. “How’d you get in? I thought this place was crawling with guards.”“I walked.” He spread his hands. “I’m a council envoy, sweetheart. Doors open for me.”“Not this one,” said a voice from the hall.Kael filled the doorway.He didn’t growl. He didn’t shout. He just stood there, and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. His eyes had a thin ring of gold around th
She dreamed of a queen.A woman stood at the end of a long stone hall lit by a hundred candles. She wore a gown the color of old blood, and her dark curls were bound with a thin circlet of iron. Her skin was brown. Her eyes were dark, flecked with amber.They were Nyra’s eyes.It was Nyra’s face.The woman from the pocket watch.“Thirteen,” the queen said, and smiled sadly. “They told me you would come. I hoped they were lying.”Behind her, the candles began to go out one by one.Something was coming down the hall.* * *Nyra woke up screaming.Or tried to. What came out was a cracked whisper. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed sand, and her whole body shook so hard her teeth clattered.“Easy.” A hand pressed a cold cloth to her forehead. “Easy. You’re at Blackmere. You’re safe.”Kael.She was in a bed. His bed, she realized dimly. Dark sheets. Wall of books. The fire roaring in the hearth.He sat on the edge of the mattress in a T-shirt, his hair a mess, shadows carved under his ey
The silence lasted four seconds.Then the wolves started howling again, louder, confused, and Kael yanked his hand back like she’d burned him.“Stop doing that.”“I’m not doing anything!”“You’re bleeding.”“I noticed.” She wiped her lip with the back of her sleeve. Tamsin’s sleeve. Great. “Occupational hazard of being a monster, apparently.”He stared at her for a long moment. Something warred behind his eyes. Then he scooped her off the ground, threw her over his shoulder like a sack of feed, and started walking back toward the lodge.“Put me down!”“No.”“I can walk!”“You can run. That’s the problem.”She pounded on his back. It was like hitting a brick wall wearing a shirt.“This is kidnapping.”“This is the second time,” he agreed.* * *By the next evening, Nyra had made two important discoveries.First, the east wing had no hot water
Kael didn’t answer the question.He walked her back up the drive, through the massive oak doors of Blackmere Lodge, up two flights of stairs, and down a long hall that smelled of cedar and old smoke. Then he opened a door and waited.“In.”“Is this the dungeon?”“It’s the east wing. Third floor. No porch roof. No drainpipe.” He didn’t look at her. “Since you like climbing.”Nyra stepped inside.It was not a dungeon. It was a bedroom the size of her entire apartment back in Saint Veil, with a four-poster bed, a stone fireplace, and windows that looked out over a lake so still it held the mountains upside down.“Wow,” she said. “Your prisoners have it rough.”“You’re not a prisoner.”“Then I can leave.”“No.”“So I’m a prisoner.”“You’re a guest who isn’t allowed to leave.”“That’s the definition of a prisoner, Kael. That’s literally the dictionary.”Something
The white flag was silk.Of course it was.Nyra watched it snap in the cold wind from the second-floor balcony of Blackmere Lodge, her fingers locked around the iron railing. Below her, the long gravel drive ran a quarter mile through the pines to a pair of black gates taller than a house.On the other side of those gates stood a prince.Three black cars idled behind him, engines purring like patient animals. Two figures waited beside them in long coats. One of them she recognized instantly.Silas Crane.The vampire who had knelt to her in a dead man’s chapel.The other figure stood in front of everyone, hands folded behind his back, as if he had all the time in the world.He probably did.“That’s him,” said a voice behind her. “Prince Lucien Draven. Three hundred and forty years old, and he still dresses like he’s going to a funeral he planned himself.”Nyra turned.Rourke leaned in t
Blackmere changed in seconds.One moment it was a lodge on a lake. The next it was a fortress.Doors slammed. Boots pounded on the stairs. Somewhere outside, a horn sounded, one long low note that rolled across the water and came back from the far shore. In the treeline, shapes began to move. Gray. Black. Rust. Wolves pouring out of the forest from every direction, silent and fast, taking positions along the drive like they’d rehearsed it a hundred times.They probably had.Kael was already moving through the great room, giving orders without raising his voice.“Rourke, I want eyes on the lake road and the old logging cut. If he’s at the front door, somebody’s at the back.”“On it.”“Tam, go with Mom to the—”“No,” Tamsin said.“Tamsin.”“I’m nineteen, not nine. I’m not hiding in the wine cellar again.”“The wine cellar is reinforced.”“The wine cellar has spiders the size of







