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Kage dribbled some of his blood over my open palm. I turned back to the arch. “Hold my hand,” I said, suddenly nervous. “I don’t want us separated.”

“Never.” Kage clasped my left hand as I held out my right toward the arch. I looked back to see Lysander take Kage’s other hand.

“We’re with you, sweetheart,” Lysander whispered. “Now and always.”

“Now and always,” I repeated. Then I pressed my bloody palm to the stone. The archway flared to life.

Chapter 56

FLORENCE

I sat on the edge of the bed because I had not been told to lie down. The room was small and clean. The blankets were soft. The floor had been recently scrubbed, though the woman who had done the scrubbing had spat at my feet when I had tried to thank her. In the corner, a tray of food was laid out beside a pitcher of water, as if I were a guest and not a prisoner.

The room seemed small yet average. There was even a small window high up on one wall. But one wall was made entirely of iron bars. And sometimes I could still hear the children crying on the other side of the dungeon.

I lifted one hand and curled my fingers. I could move—to a certain extent. I could act in ways that would do me no harm and which would keep my body alive. I could breathe, swallow, stand, and sit. But I could only speak when permitted. I could not move beyond a certain point in the room. I could not even touch the iron bars.

I could not kill myself—even if I had wanted to. And at times, I had wanted to.

There was a cold, withered soul wrapped around mine. I could feel him there, always. Viktor Drakharrow was my disease, ancient rot wrapped in a man’s silken clothes. I had seen inside his mind, seen things no one should ever have to see. His memories. His desires. The violence he had carried out. The things he treasured. All of it was corruption. A life that should have ended long ago.

He was a dead thing walking, and the stench of his decay was in me now. A blackness that moved through me like oil through water. I could sense him; he was distracted. I tried not to think of Nyxaris. Viktor could enter my mind—focus on me—at any time he wished. I knew he was waiting for my dragon to come to me. He believed the Duskdrake’s arrival was a certainty. When Nyxaris arrived, Viktor would take him and use him for despicable things. And the worst part of all was that I couldn’t warn him. Couldn’t tell Nyxaris to stay away. Not because Viktor might stop me—though, I was sure he had a way to do so—but because I couldn’t sense him. I told myself he must be too far away, and that was the one thing I should feel happy about. If Nyxaris was still too far to sense, then he was too far away for Viktor to use. Maybe he was safe.

Maybe … maybe he wouldn’t come at all. Maybe he knew what had been done to me and knew the only chance of saving himself lay in staying away.

Pain suddenly lanced through my skull. I leaned forward, gasping.

I am told you have not eaten. The voice in my mind was obscene.

A pause. I felt Viktor’s attention hone in on me.

You will eat. Now.

I stood up. My body moved toward the table. No, no, I didn’t want to eat, I thought desperately. But I had already sat down. My hand was reaching for the spoon. I watched it in horror as it moved to the bowl of soup, dipped into it, then lifted to my mouth. The smell should have made me hungry, but as the spoon entered my mouth, I tasted nothing. I could feel no pleasure at all, not even from food. Pain was the only thing Viktor allowed me to feel.

My jaw worked—because he willed it. My throat swallowed—because he had told it to. I choked, but the food went down.

Again. The command came, yet I sensed he had grown distracted once more.

My hand moved to fetch another spoonful. Then another. I stopped with the fifth spoonful halfway to my mouth. Something was wrong. Viktor’s presence jolted hard against my mind. For one moment, I felt dizzy. Then it was like a door had been opened. Sound came through. I could feel his fury.

“You will get out there, and you will hold the fucking line, do you hear me? You useless bastards!”

I’d never felt him like this before—not just furious but panicked.

“The dragon’s turned rabid,” someone shouted back at him.

I felt the moment Viktor ripped out the man’s throat with his teeth. “Any other complaints? Get out there. Get to the dragon and subdue her. Do not kill her. Her life is worth thousands of your own.”

My breath caught. The dragon? He had to mean Molindra. If Nyxaris were here, I’d sense him. Wouldn’t I?

Viktor’s rage continued to stream through our bond. Through him, I heard the sound of men running and shouting. Then the whole dungeon shuddered. I gasped. This wasn’t the bond. The tray had rattled. The entire manor gave a groan. I dropped the spoon.

Then, more voices through the bond again. Somewhere above me in the manor, Viktor barked more orders. A woman’s voice cut through.

“I’ll find Catherine.” I recognized Elowyn Wispwood. “We’ll find the beast and whip her within an inch of her life. Then Lunaya, too.”

Lunaya. The name hit me like cold water.