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Before I did something I’d regret, I turned my back on the pompous bastard and flew up the staircase.
I’d just been sold off, traded, and married in the matter of a few minutes.
This day couldn’t get any worse.
50
ANARIA
Istormed back to my rooms, fury driving every sane thought out of my head.
My father had sold me off like a fatted cow—like my own mother—for a pile of gold to a male I despised. And why? Because Tavion Fucking Montgomery thought I owed him.
And perhaps I did, but he had no right to do this.
This marriage was a farce. I wouldn’t allow it; I would beg the king to return the money.
Like that would ever happen.That warm glow in Serpens’ eyes when he’d seen all that gold was the closest thing to real emotion I’d ever seen from him.
The door to my room stood slightly ajar, the interior dark and my prickle of warning turned into a roar when I stepped inside. Sophie lay on the rug, her body limp, eyes closed.
“No, no no.” I rolled her onto her back, praying to all the gods above she was alive. She was still breathing.
Ember was gone.
And the corner of the rug—where I’d hidden Torin’s letter—was flipped back.
The spot was empty.
For a second, I froze in panic, my mind grappling with the ramifications of what that meant, how much danger I was in.
How much danger we were all in.
If I hadn’t stormed out of today’s audience, Ember would have hours to get that information to Solok.
And once Solok knew about Torin…
The High Seer was dead and the Fae King would stop at nothing until I was back on that altar.
But I’d only been gone half an hour. I mentally tallied off all the places Ember might be. The kitchens, the bastion, the training ring, those were the places she was familiar with.
I shook Sophie gently until she opened her eyes. “Are you alright?” I asked quickly, helping her sit up. “I cannot stay with you. I have to find Ember.”
Her eyes were hazy when she put a hand to her head and nodded, “Go. I’ll be fine. But Anaria…be careful. She wasn’t…herself.”
“I know. And I will.”
I checked the kitchens, the corridors crisscrossing the first floor of the Keep before racing to the eastern bastion. The tower was empty and now I had no idea how to find Ember in the sprawling streets of Blackstone, not when there were a million places she could hide.
But the Reaper smelled of rot, according to Tavion, though I’d never smelled that scent, even with my heightened senses. Which meant whatever Tavion was…his nose was better than mine.
As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Tavion.
I headed to where I’d last seen him, holding court in an outer chamber with a group of fawning courtiers.
He wasn’t there, but I spotted him on the main avenue, head and shoulders above the morning crowd. Today was market day, the wide lane clogged with small wagons and carts, but he was tall enough I kept him in sight until I caught up.
“Tavion. Stop.”
