Draevyn met Jak’s stare. “I already am.”
When all were freed, the crew of pirates stood clustered together.
“And what of everyone else?” Ren asked. “They couldn’t fit all ourmortals in here with us.”
“Some of them are here?” Draevyn’s brows raised.
“Told ‘em we were shifters in hopes they’d fear us,” one said, gesturing to himself and another broad man.
Jak crossed his arms. “Aye, only Alec and Torin are here. The rest be in the other prison.”
Draevyn’s gaze raked over them all. Gods, he was really doing this, wasn’t he?
“A few of my crew are heading to Lephyrin’s prison as we speak and plan to break them free. They’re to meet us at my ship,Valor.”
They all gave a subtle nod as they warily glanced around.
“Let’s go get our girl, shall we?” Jak cracked his knuckles.
CRASH.
Everyone’s heads whipped toward the door as it violently slammed into the wall. The sound of boots thudding against stone erupted down the hall, followed by the bellowing voices of guards.
“Oye!” someone screamed. “The queen has been taken hostage. Lock down the castle. No one in or out!”
Draevyn’s stomach dropped, his throat tightening to the point of pain.
“What the hells did you do, Wildfire?” he whispered, his eyes widening.
Jak looked at him curiously with a raised brow, as if he put it together too.
The storming of boots echoed down the corridor.
“What do we do now?” Ren asked. “We’re trapped?—”
“Shut up and run!” Riven growled, shoving forward. “You hear that? They’re coming!”
“No, we fight. We can make it through now that our magic is back,” Jak said.
“No.” Draevyn’s voice was stern, earning all of their attention.
“Where are the guards?” someone called from the dungeon’s door.
“That’s ash!” another voice sounded. “Is anyone down here?” The sound of unsheathing metal rang through the hall.
Fucking Irah.
Draevyn spun, head snapping toward the far end of the dungeons. His pulse roared in his ears. The corridor ahead was already flashing with torchlight, the shadows of guards closing in as they raced toward them.
“Come with me,” he ordered.
A ball of flame ignited above Draevyn’s palm as he sprinted toward the far wall of the dungeon, the others following after him.
His father often brought him down here for punishment, even sometimes leaving him down here for hours on end. And one day, when his back pressed against a wall, it crumbled and cracked, giving way to a tunnel. He often followed that crawl space out as a young boy, leading him out to the rivers, and eventually the sea.
Draevyn always assumed that was where his love for the sea stemmed from. It served as his escape even back then. But he now believed his love for the sea was never a choice of his own will at all as a pair of glacial eyes appeared in his mind.
They reached the end of the corridor, coming face-to-face with the stone wall.
