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30
BREE
“They’ve finally fallen asleep,” Taveon said into her mind.
Bree cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. Demons slept on pallets around flickering bonfires while shadows swept through the field, obscuring the rest of the world from view. Her heart thundered as she dipped her fingers into her pocket to pull out the key.
It was now or never, but she did not feel ready. This was their one chance to get away from the Master before he took them through the gate. If they failed now and lost this key, they wouldn’t get another shot. Bree knew the truth of this deep in her bones.
Her gaze caught on Taveon’s. He held out his hand, and she clutched it, as if it were a lifeline.
“As soon as your feet hit the ground, run,” he said through the bond.
She chewed on the insides of her cheeks. “I’m not running until you’re running.”
“I can fight them if I have to.”
She flicked her eyes to the chains around his wrists. Rafferty had gotten them the key to the cage, but not for the bonds that held their wrists together. “No, you can’t. Don’t argue with me on this, Taveon. We’re running together. I won’t leave you behind.”
He sighed around a surge of guilt that dove deep into Bree’s soul and scraped it raw. No matter what she said, he still blamed himself for this. She didn’t think he’d stop until it was all over. Still, he was her bonded mate, and she would never leave him behind.
“If you don’t run, I won’t, either,” she threatened, still speaking to him through the bond so that the sleeping demons wouldn’t hear their voices and wake.
He frowned, but then he relented with a nod. “All right. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Sticking her tongue out between her teeth, Bree wound her arm through the bars and shoved the key into the lock. A part of her thought this might not work. A demon would spring up out of the shadows, or it’d be the wrong key, or the sky would open up and swallow them whole.
But the key slid in, and the lock clicked open. With a shaky breath, she gently pushed at the door. It creaked as it swung in the breeze.
Every cell in her body stiffened as she waited for the pending shouts, the cries of rage, the rough hands that would shove them back into the cage and shut them away forever. But as the moments stretched out, and nothing happened, Bree finally relaxed enough to stick one boot out the door.
And then the other.
She shimmied the rest of the way out of the cage and dropped onto the ground. The moment her feet touched grass, she almost shuddered from relief. The sky overhead was dull, overcast, and grey, the moon gone now that night was here. Taveon dropped down beside her and pressed a firm hand against her back.
Together, they crept through the silent camp. Bree barely dared breathe for fear a demon would hear them. As they wound through the tents, she heard a twig snap. With a hand on her mouth, she dropped into the tall, flowing grass, and tugged Taveon down beside her.
They both landed in the dirt. Footsteps thunked by.
“The Grand Master will meet us here in the morning,” the Master said to another demon. “He wants to get a look at the king before he spills his blood on the gate. He thinks he might be able to talk him into joining our side.”
The other demon grunted. “Why bother? We just need him dead.”
“We need his power. If he gives it willingly, the Grand Master won’t have to kill him.”
“Again. Why bother? Just kill the bastard.”
The Master laughed. “Don’t ask me. He’s not my son.”
Their voices drifted away as they continued to walk through the camp. Bree shot a glance at Taveon, but he didn’t meet her eyes. His jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth, his body as stiff as a statue.
Her heart ached for him. She knew how hard this was, hearing these demons talk about him as if he were nothing but a tool to be used and discarded, to hear them speak of his father, to hear the hatred in their voices.
She reached out and took his hand.
He curled his fingers around hers and nodded. Together, they shoved up and sprinted through the grass. Tension raked through her belly, but she focused on her feet, on the steady pound of boots against the ground. Their chains clanked, rattling with every step. The sound was loud. Too loud.
