Impossibly, as though the very laws of gravity bent to his will, he drove his claws into mortar, finding holds where none should exist. His boots pressed against the stone, steady and sure, as if the wall itself yielded to him. She couldn’t quite tell how he did it—whether it was brute strength alone, or the writhing shadows lending him aid, she couldn’t be certain.
All she could do was feel.
The brutal power of his body moving beneath her, every cord of muscle taut and coiled with controlled force. For someone so massive, he moved with startling quickness, agility that defied his size. Each motion was precise, deliberate, mercilessly efficient.
She dared a glance, but the night was a blur—stone sliding away beneath them, the courtyard shrinking into obscurity. Her stomach lurched as the height grew dizzying. She clenched her eyes shut again, pressed hard against him, helpless in his grasp.
And then—suddenly—they were at the top.
The wall was scaled.
For the first time since this nightmare began, she heard it: his breathing. Heavier now, drawn deep through his mask, each exhale low and rough against the night air. It wasn’t strained,not quite, but it was exertion, proof that even this creature of shadows had limits.
He stood still, balanced atop the wall as if the height were nothing. The wind swept colder here, cutting across the stone, tugging at her hair and nightgown. His massive frame shifted only slightly beneath her, steady as iron while he surveyed the darkness below.
From her bent-over, twisted-backward vantage point, Eliza caught a glimpse beyond the battlements.
The lands stretched outward, endless and stark in the moonlight. Fields and forests blurred together in shades of silver and black, broken only by the faint red smolder of campfires on the plains. Distant hills loomed like silent sentinels, and beyond them… the unknown.
Her throat tightened.
That was where he was taking her.
Away from her tower. Away from her city. Away from everything she had ever known—into the night, into orc hands, into whatever fate this shadow-cloaked creature chose for her.
Her fear and uncertainty mounted with every breath. The higher they stood, the farther her home slipped away beneath them. She was bound, gagged, helpless, with nothing to cling to but the terrifying awareness of the creature who carried her.
Heat radiated from him, seeping through the thin fabric of her nightgown, every inch of him tightly coiled power. The memory burned in her mind—that only moments ago, this same being had been ready to kill her without hesitation. A single breath had stood between her and death.
And now…
He shifted her weight again, adjusting his grip with ruthless precision, pulling her close against his chest. His arm locked around her like iron.
Then, without pause, without a word, he stepped off the wall.
And jumped into the night.
Chapter
Eight
They ran.
From the castle, away from the guards, through the twisting veins of her city. His strides were long, relentless, and the shadows curled close around them, hiding them from eyes that should have seen.
They passed people—herpeople.
Twice, three times, she saw soldiers only paces away, armor gleaming faintly in the torchlight. One leaned against a wall, smoking, the ember flaring briefly. Another murmured to his companion, their conversation muted, casual, unaware. So close she could hear their voices, smell the acrid tang of the smoke.
And yet she could do nothing.
She couldn’t cry out, couldn’t thrash free, couldn’t even lift her head for more than a fleeting glance. The gag silenced her, the ropes bit into her flesh, and the shadows seemed to smother her very presence.
It was maddening.
She was the Queen, the sovereign of this realm, and she was helpless in her own kingdom.
They crossed the market square, the place where her people bargained and bartered by day. Now the stalls stood silentand shuttered, their wares locked away behind creaking wood. Lamps guttered in the cold air, torches flickered uncertainly, and the cobbled streets lay empty beneath the ghostly glow of the moon.
