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“Rave,” Alek said in a low hiss.
The lot of us took cover between a goat pen and stable with their strange creatures that reminded me of bulkier horthane with their hooves and long swishing tails.
I pressed a fist to the tangled muscle cramping below my hip, bit the inside of my cheek when it felt as though the pressure might snap the bone, and held my breath as two Rave officers strode past on their patrol.
“Hurry.” Jonas led us out, rushing toward a square building with a sod roof and narrow windows that only lined the top edge.
I kept close to Aleksi. I didn’t consider it could be a trap, didn’t try to dissect why these royals, all at once, would turn against their own folk—their kings and queens—to aid an enemy. I knew Aleksi loved Livia, and in turn, I suspected so did the others.
They were not here for me; they were doing this for her.
Jonas held up a fist at the corner of the building. “Who’s on watch, Mir?”
“Edda.”
Jonas stripped his cloak, handing it to his brother. He adjusted the neckline of his dark tunic. With both hands, the prince mussed his wavy, chestnut hair. “Perfect.”
There wasn’t time to ask what he had planned before Jonas stepped out of our cover, bumbling just enough to appear as though he’d had too much hard ale.
“Edda?” His voice carried, slurred and heady in a strange desire. “Gods, how is it you look even lovelier in your leathers than out of them?”
The woman’s response was soft, but her snicker was clear, and the plan grew obvious.
I shook my head. “Surely, this won’t work.”
Aleksi grinned. “You don’t know Jonas.”
For what seemed endless breaths, we waited. Gods, I could poison the guard and be on our way sooner than this.
A heavy hand clapped against a wall.
“He’s ready. Silent steps,” Sander whispered, then emerged from the shadows, rounding toward the door of the building.
I followed, low to the ground.
Around the corner, Jonas came into view. Bleeding gods, he hadthe guard’s chest pinned to the opposite wall. His body caged her, her back to his front, long golden hair tangled in his fingers. The woman’s head fell back against his shoulder, her gasps laced through the silence of the night, as the prince trailed his hands and mouth over her skin.
If I wasn’t desperate to leave these realms to find my songbird, I might laugh at how swiftly the prince took the guard’s attentions away.
Air inside the new structure was musty with mildew and damp soil, and from the shadows came a dry voice. “Erik?”
My blood chilled. “Tait.”
Bound in chains, tethered like a creature to a post in what was a clear storage shack, Tait lifted his head. Already, Prince Sander was on his knees in front of my cousin.
“What’s going on?” Tait bared his teeth.
“We’re going to the sea, Heartwalker,” Aleksi said.
Prince Sander had tricky fingers. Not what I would expect from the man. Where his brother was dominant and vicious, Sander seemed quiet, lost to his own thoughts. Then again, the ones with a great deal of time to think were often the most cunning.
He slid a whalebone pick into the lock on Tait’s shackles. No more than three breaths, and a click followed. In haste, Tait shed his chains and rose, stumbling over a loose lip in the floor straight into Princess Mira.
She shoved him back. “Watch your hands, sea fae.”
Tait let out a slight hiss before coming to my side. “Are you harmed?”
“No.”
