Doran smiled in satisfaction. "I don't need to control you indefinitely," he said mildly, and whirled his horse around. "Mount up. We move to the prepared position immediately."
Prepared?Prepared for what? And what did he mean by his certainty they didn't need to be controlled indefinitely?
Casteel was tied to the horse and surrounded by five armed men. As they galloped away, he tried to send love and regret to Nero. Nero was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and his self-doubt and lack of faith in their love had brought him to this point.
He knew Nero wouldn’t stop coming for him until they were both dead or in chains.
And Casteel had no idea what to do.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The thunderous crash ofa massive silver wolf bursting through the tree line shook the entire clearing. Nero's transformation back to human form was instant, his anguished cry echoing off the surrounding peaks as he stared at the trampled earth where Casteel had been taken.
He snarled, dropping to his knees to examine the churned ground. His senses picked up every scent—Casteel's fear, Aldric's guilt, the metallic tang of Silver Guard armor, and underneath it all, Doran's distinctive scent of incense and madness.
"Nero!" Eryken's voice cut through his rage as rebels emerged from the forest, having followed the sounds of hooves. Lord Morven was among them, his face grim as he surveyed the empty clearing.
"They took him," Nero said, his voice raw with grief and fury. "I felt his terror through the bond, felt the moment they—" Nero was already moving, following the trail left by the horses'hooves. "They're heading northeast. Toward the old temple ruins."
"Stop," Eryken commanded, his voice carrying enough authority to make Nero pause. "You're thinking with your heart, not your head."
"My heart is what they've taken," Nero growled, silver light beginning to ripple beneath his skin. "Every moment we waste talking—" It was his fault. If he hadn't run away like some pathetic child—
"Is another moment you stay alive to actually save him," Eryken interrupted sharply. "Charge in there, and you'll be dead or captured within minutes. Is that what Casteel would want?"
The question struck home. Nero could still feel Casteel's presence—distant but alive, carried farther away with each passing heartbeat. Along with that presence came emotions that made his chest tighten: guilt, self-recrimination, and an overwhelming fear not for himself, but for what his capture would make Nero do.
"He blames himself," Nero whispered, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "He thinks this is his fault." Nero's hands clenched into fists. "It was Aldric. He's a traitor."
Eryken stilled then swore and glanced at Lucan, who looked horrified. "At least we know who our traitor is."
"What?" Nero demanded.
"Aldric has been feeding us intel for a year, turns out he's really been using us to help Doran," Eryken said.
"I have to get Casteel back," Nero ground out. It really was that simple to him.
"We will," came a new voice from the forest edge. "But not by charging blindly into Doran's trap."
A figure emerged from the shadows leading a horse—a woman, he realized as she pushed the hood of her cloak back, her dark hair and intelligent eyes missing nothing. She movedwith silent grace. Eryken froze, disbelief washing over his weathered features before he crossed the clearing in three long strides and swept her into his arms.
"Veda," he breathed, burying his face in her hair. "By all the gods, how did you find us?"
She allowed herself a moment in his arms before gently disengaging, her eyes flicking to Nero with professional assessment then back to Eryken. "Your message reached Rajpur. My brother sends his regards—and his spies."
Morven frowned and glanced between the two of them. Nero had no idea who she was.
"But how did you find us here?" Eryken pressed, but instead of waiting for an answer he dragged her back into his arms and took her lips with his. Nero watched as all the men's jaws dropped.
"I'm not going to spill all my secrets," she teased when he let up.
"Princess," Lord Morven said in stunned understanding as he bowed. He gazed, gesturing toward Nero with awed respect in his voice. "Princess Veda of Rajpur, sister to his excellency Kamir, and the finest intelligence operative in the eastern kingdoms."
Princess?
Nero nodded curtly, his body still thrumming with the need to pursue. "Your reputation clearly precedes you, Princess. But unless you can help me recover my mate from Doran's clutches, I have no time for pleasantries."
"Then you'll want to hear what I have to say," Veda replied, unruffled by his brusqueness. "My agents have been tracking Doran's movements for weeks. The temple ruins aren't his final destination—they're merely a waypoint."
