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I still can’t speak.

I shake my head frantically, begging Caelan without words to understand. He has to understand.

What if he doesn’t?

Fear slices through my panic, refusing to leave.

Fates, what if he believes what Father’s implying? What if he looks at me and sees what he wants him to see?

A trap.

A horrible, ignorant Omega who sold him out.

My gaze flies back to Caelan. In a desperate attempt to make him understand, I raise my still shaking fist to my chest and slam it against my sternum, right where I feel our Bond. Right where I feel him, tucked safely between my ribs.

Caelan’s eyes soften. A warm burst of reassurance explodes through me. I exhale, dizzy with relief.

He knows. Of course, he knows.

He can feel me, just like I can feel him.

My relief is short-lived. One look at my father, and I know he’s nowhere close to done with me yet.

“Won’t you join us downstairs, daughter?” His silky purr raises the hairs on the back of my neck. “I’m sure this Alpha at least wants a closer look at the Omega he so stupidly threw away his life for.”

Only a threat to Caelan’s life is enough to make me comply. It’s clear his words aren’t a request. They’re a demand wrapped around a hidden threat.

Come down here, or I’ll kill him now.

I don’t argue. I wrap my hand around the banister and force my legs to move. The walk down the winding stairs feels endless. I know I’m most likely walking to my own execution.

I’m certain of one thing. If I can save Caelan, I’ll do anything Father asks. Even if I have to bargain with my own life, I’ll do it. I’ll make it my only demand.

I have to protect him.

My vision darkens around the edges by the time I make it halfway down the stairs. I’m desperately weak, but the silver pool provides me with just enough strength to keep moving. I take another step. Then another.

Don’t faint, Idril. Don’t you dare faint.

I don’t stop once I make it to the landing. I can’t. My movements carry me straight toward Caelan, like metal pulled toward a magnet.

No one stops me. No one dares.

Father’s men part soundlessly as I drift through them like a ghost.

Maybe I am a ghost.

Maybe I’m already dead, and this is hell.

Caelan hasn’t moved. His muscles strain the closer I get, but otherwise, he’s as still as stone. His piercing black gaze blazes with fury as he tracks my movements. I’m so close, only a few more steps, and I’ll be close enough to touch him. Four feet.

Three—

Two—

Father’s arm snaps out, and his hand clamps painfully around my neck from behind. I whimper as his fingers dig into my flesh. Pain explodes through my neck, radiating up the base of my skull.

Rather than ease up, he squeezes, digging into the bruises that have only just begun to fade. I hear bone grinding against bone. A pained whine rips up my throat, straight from my Omega. The shrill sound echoes through the foyer.