Page 81 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

They rendered me defenseless against Fief when he tortured me for information about the Fae. Information I didn’t have.

My throat dries. I try to swallow but fail, the effort breaking into a cough that is too loud in the quiet.

No one reacts.

No one, except Silas.

His dark eyes flick over his shoulder, finding mine. Something unspoken passes between us. Recognition. Sympathy. The kind that only comes from enduring the same darkness.

Augustus straightens and leans forward in his chair, eyeing the items Darius holds. “What are they?”

Helen sniffs the air and stiffens, her hand flying to her chest.

“Is that what I think it is?” Her voice comes out shrill.

“Magic-suppressing cuffs,” Rian says calmly. “Confiscated from Verdanthia.”

My heart thumps in my chest.

Why in the Gods’ names would they not destroy those blasted things?

Silas faces forward again, but I catch the way his shoulders lock into place, his spine rigid.

Helen hisses. Jason’s jaw drops. Augustus’s mouth twists into a scowl.

“The humans possessed those abominations?” the mayor demands, voice low and tight.

“They didn’t just possess them,” Rian replies. “We believe they forged them.”

A sharp intake of breath ripples through the family while mine lodges in my throat.

There are only so many people in Verdanthia who use a forge…

“How?” Jason blurts. “How could they possibly have that knowledge?”

“That is what my cadre and I are working to uncover.”

Is that true?

I have my doubts.

After all, the Shadow Fae only came to Verdanthia to heal Darius. Their plans to find the Sea Fae existed long before they learned of the astlerium manacles.

Didn’t they?

Augustus and Helen exchange a long, weighted look.

“So that is why you’ve come south,” Augustus says at last, his features drawn, tone grave. “To find who is creating these…monstrous devices?”

“Among other things.”

The markings on my arms slither.

The mayor and his family turn to each other again. Their voices are low, expressions guarded.

I drag a trembling hand across my brow, wiping away sweat, forcing my gaze anywhere but the cursed cuffs to avoid the memories.

Too late.