Page 10 of The Crowned Queen

“You think she’s there?” Loren demanded, the words ash on his tongue. Coming to the conclusion himself was one thing, but hearing it from him⁠—

Kai nodded. “Jaxon has barely left his father’s estate for weeks,” he said. “He wouldn’t let her out of his sight after she disappeared from right under his nose.”

Loren closed his eyes, silently urging the shadows to stay silent. This was a good thing. Finn had been right before—they needed all the information they could get about where she was being held. And Kai was their best way in.

“Thank you,” he said, the words dragging between his clenched teeth. “Anything you can find out, I’m grateful.”

“Come on.” Finn clapped him on the shoulder. “The child still needs to be seen by a healer. And Serafina will be losing her mind not knowing what happened.”

Loren nodded but didn’t follow right away as the others started to move back down the tunnel. He stood there in the dark, listening as their voices faded until all that was left was the faint echo of dripping water and the indistinct murmurs of the shadows around his feet. They didn’t like trusting Kai any more than he did. But they had no choice. Goddess only knew what atrocities she was enduring in that house⁠—

“Loren,” Finn said.

Loren blinked, surprised to find the shadows spread across the walls, the already faint light reduced to a dull, suffocated glow. Finn watched them, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Sorry.” Loren sucked in a deep breath, dragging them back. The last thing Araya needed right now was for him to lose control. “I’m coming.”

Chapter

Three

Araya didn’t ask Belanis for help again.

The other female had tried to speak to her the first morning after Rian Sterling’s visit, but Araya had simply taken the cup and turned away, staring out over the slowly greening garden as she gulped down the bitter brew. Belanis took it back without a word when she was done, slinking out of the room with her head hung low.

The days bled together after that, broken only by Jaxon’s erratic visits. She’d wake from a restless nap to find him sitting beside the bed, studying her face like she was a puzzle he meant to solve. Sometimes he berated her, accusing her of breaking his trust and destroying everything they had together. Other times his voice turned gentle, plying her with soft words and the same poisoned promises of safety and acceptance she’d once believed were love.

They wanted her to cooperate—to submit. Because fae magic answered to will. Whatever they wanted from her, they’d have a much easier time getting it if she stopped fighting.

Well, fuck that.

Loren had survived twenty-five years of torture in Arcanum custody. She could endure whatever they did to her here.

So the next time the door opened, Araya didn’t move from her place on the window seat. She kept her focus on the garden, on the way evening swept over the spring flowers. Let Jaxon say whatever he wanted. Let him stare, let him rage, let him beg. She would not submit.

“Time to go, Miss Starwind.”

Araya jolted, her heart leaping into her throat. It wasn’t Jaxon Shaw standing in front of the door—the open door, swung wide to reveal the hallway beyond—it was his father.

High Magister Garrick Shaw.

For half a heartbeat, instinct screamed at her to bolt—to take the chance and leap for the open door. But Garrick loomed between her and freedom, his stern expression warning her without words exactly what would happen if she tried.

“No,” she said. Her voice wavered, cracking under his stare. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Garrick’s eyebrows lifted. “It wasn’t a request, Miss Starwind.” He held out a hand, palm up. “Don’t waste all your fight when you have no chance of winning.”

Araya stood as slowly as she dared, willing herself not to flush. The plain shift they’d given her fell only to her knees, the thin fabric leaving little to the imagination. “I need something to wear.”

“What you have on will suffice.” Garrick’s gaze flicked over her, lingering just long enough to make her skin crawl, though his indifferent expression never shifted. “After all, we’re family.”

Araya swallowed hard, lifting her chin. There was no way for her to win here, but she could keep her dignity at least. She stepped forward, ignoring Garrick’s outstretched hand.

Garrick chuckled, his fingers closing in a vice grip on her arm instead.

“There’s that defiance again,” he said mildly. “I’m not surprised you have my son all twisted up. He always has loved a challenge. A pity we’re going to have to break you of it.”

He propelled her through the door and down the hall, setting a pace that forced her to trot or be dragged along behind him. She’d been to his home once before—for a birthday celebration. But there were no guests or music tonight. Just door after closed door, the silence as cold as the marble floor under her bare feet.