"Cadmeera is different. Cleaner. The air smells of pine and snow even in summer." Nero found himself describing the place he'd heard so much about but had never seen, painting a picture of freedom that seemed more attainable now than it had a mere bell ago.
As they talked, Nero became aware of a strange sensation—warmth spreading through his chest that wasn't entirely his own. Through their new bond, he could feel Casteel's hope, his excitement, his lingering fear. It should be foreign having another's thoughts in his head, but even new, it seemed like Casteel was meant to be there.
"We'll need to be careful," Nero cautioned, reality intruding. "The priests won't simply let their prophecy walk away."
"When?" Casteel asked, the single word carrying the weight of his anticipation.
Nero considered. "We need to play along just long enough to gain their trust and gather supplies. A few days, perhaps a week."
Casteel's disappointment bloomed across their bond, a sinking feeling that Nero could almost taste. "A week might as well be forever. The moment they know the bond is complete, they'll parade us before the people. Once that happens..."
"We'll be watched constantly," Nero finished, understanding dawning. "The window for escape will close."
They fell silent, the gravity of their situation settling around them like a shroud. Outside, the moon had risen. All too soon, the priests would return, expecting to find their prophecy fulfilled, their puppets ready to perform.
Nero traced the healing bite mark on Casteel's neck, his fingers lingering on the raised edges. Something possessive stirred in him at the sight, a feeling he hadn't experienced since before the rebellion took everything he loved, and he quashed it abruptly.
"Tonight," he decided suddenly. "We leave tonight."
Casteel's eyes widened. "How? The guards—"
"Will be expecting two obedient, exhausted bond-mates," Nero said, his mind racing through possibilities. "Not two desperate men with nothing to lose."
Nero had already lost everything once. He wasn't foolish. He knew this bond was manipulating his own feelings and Casteel was much younger and inexperienced. Casteel still had hope of a good life. A family.
Nero just had to make sure Casteel knew it could never be with him.
Chapter Six
Casteel watched Nero movethrough the chamber with practiced stealth, fingers testing stones, examining hinges, calculating possibilities. Something stirred inside him—a sensation beyond the warmth of their new bond. Admiration, perhaps. Or trust. Was that dangerous? How much could he really trust Nero? He had, after all, fired the arrow, no matter his pretty words of doubt. What if his skills were simply rusty and he'd made an excuse for his miss? Casteel blinked and glanced at his shoulder. There wasn't even a scar. Shifting into his wolf had healed him.
"The guards change at twelfth bell," Casteel whispered, following Nero's lead by keeping his voice low. "Four are stationed outside this door, two at each end of the corridor."
Nero nodded, impressed. "You've been paying attention."
"When you've spent your life as a servant, you learn to notice when to keep out of the way." Casteel ran his fingers over the healing bite mark, still awed by how right it felt. "The nightwatch drinks watered wine during their shift. By the third bell, their attention wanders."
Nero frowned. How did he know?
Casteel must have understood his doubt. "It was one of Doran's favorite pastimes to wake me and take me for his so-called rituals."
Nero paused for a heartbeat, examining the massive doors, but he didn't comment, and Casteel was glad. He didn't want sympathy, he needed escape.
"What about beyond the corridor?" Nero asked. "How many levels down to the courtyard?"
"Three. The ceremonial staircase first, then through the old audience chamber, down the servants' stairs to the kitchens. From there, a short passage leads to the stable yard." Casteel hesitated. "But there's a checkpoint at the outer gate. Six guards, always alert."
Nero's eyes gleamed in the dim light. "We need a distraction."
They dressed quickly, their movements synchronized as if they'd done this a hundred times before. Casteel felt Nero's focus—sharp, determined, unwavering. So different from the uncertainty that churned in his own stomach.
"Why are you helping me?" The question escaped before Casteel could stop it.
Nero paused, his hands stilling on the leather ties of his tunic. "I'm helping us both."
"You could have played along, gained their trust, then slipped away alone," Casteel pressed. "Why risk everything to take me with you?"
Something flickered across Nero's face—an emotion Casteel couldn't quite name. "The bond works both ways at the moment. I wouldn't get far without you now."
