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“Where were you?” I snarled.
She huffed.
“I’m sorry.” The last thing I wanted to do was take my fury out on such a sweet creature.
She huffed again and nudged my belly with her nose.
I jumped onto her back and urged her into flight. We flew up and over the wall, but I didn’t see my mate anywhere behind it. Taking my vox higher, I studied that part of the city, finally spying a cluster of orcs carrying a slight person among them.
I landed Feyla in the street just in time to watch them take Rhoslyn inside the prisoner holding area. When I raced over to it and banged on the closed door, someone called out from inside. “What do you want?”
“It’s Commander Kreedaull. Let me in. You just stole my mate.” It was all I could do not to break the door down with my mace.
“We didn’t steal anyone, and we’re not letting anyone in, not even you, Commander.”
We’d see about that.
Pivoting, I released Feyla to return to her nest and stomped through city and right up to the front door of the palace. As if this was a social visit, the guards rushed to the doors ahead of me and swept them open, bowing as I passed and slammed my way into the foyer.
My bellow rang out in the empty foyer.
“What in the world is going—” Madr emerged from a parlor dressed for battle, though his armor was still undented and clean. He held his flail aloft, and the vicious look in his eyes told me I’d no longer have a head if he didn’t recognize me. “Brother.” His hand dropped to his side, the mace on the end of the chain clunking when it impacted with the floor. “Someonehas been trying to keep me from joining the battle.”
“It’s over,” I said.
“Success?”
I shrugged. If we lost even one orc, I’d never call it a victory.
“What are you doing here?” Madr asked.
“The guards took Rhoslyn.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know. I left her at my home. At the end of the battle, I fell off Feyla—"
“You . . . fell off your vox?” He blinked for a moment. “How did that happen?”
I grumbled, stomping my feet. “I have no idea and it doesn’t matter. My back hurts, but I doubt it’s more than a scratch. Feyla’s fine. I’m fine. I killed a bunch of dresalods and they’re not fine. The rest returned to the sea.”
“How does this involve Rhoslyn?”
“I saw her on the wall and heard the guards shouting they were going to arrest her. I followed on Feyla as they took her to the holding cells. They refused to allow me inside.”
Madr scowled and lifted his arm.
“Yes, my prince?” one of the guards near the door cried, stepping forward.
“Take a contingent and go get my dear sister from the holding cells. Bring her here immediately. Be gentle; she’s precious not only to me but my brother.” Rage burnished his face. “And tell the warden he’d better have a good excuse as to why his underlings arrested her. Tell him I expect him to report here within the hour to share that reason.”
“We’ll leave immediately, my prince,” the guard said, backing over to the others. After a quick conversation, one rushed from the foyer, down the hall, and the others took their stations at the door again. Within moments, I spied a group of guards racing past the window on the opposite side of the parlor, followed by a whoosh as their voxes took flight.
The warden would not refuse a direct order from the prince.
Agitated and ready to rip off some heads, I paced the foyer. Madr watched me with some amusement until I stopped in front of him and snarled.
His lips twitched before a somber look took over her face. “I’m sure she’s fine. They won’t harm her.”
