“The alternative.” She didn’t phrase it as a question.
“Is simple.” Vask’s smile didn’t waver. “You watch your friends pay the price for your stubbornness. One by one. Starting with the easiest to break.” His gaze slid to Mia, who whimpered. “Moving to the most politically volatile.” His attention shifted to Ari. “And if that doesn’t convince you, we’ll see how long your pit survivors last without anyone advocating for their welfare.”
The rope bit into Elsa’s wrists as her hands curled into fists, tendons straining against bindings that refused to give.
She’d known. On some level, she’d known this was coming—the moment Yarx had explained what she carried, the moment the Lux Priest had blessed her in front of the court, the moment she’d felt Moon Tears pulse in response to her presence like they recognized something in her blood. She wasn’t just Sylas’s claimed female. She was something else. Something that different factions wanted to control, to use, to possess.
And now those factions were done waiting for Sylas to share.
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” She forced the question out, buying time, buyinganything.“If I cooperate—if I open whatever you want me to open—how do I know you won’t just kill them anyway?”
“You don’t.” Vask’s honesty was almost refreshing in its brutality. No false promises. No comforting lies. Just the bare bones of power and its consequences. “But you know what happens if you refuse. You know with absolute certainty how this ends if you tell me no. Certainty versus possibility. It’s not a difficult calculation.”
It wasn’t. That was the worst part. He was right, and they both knew it.
Elsa’s gaze moved to Mia—small, terrified, pressed against the wall like she could merge with the stone. A guest from theStardancer, torn from her friend’s wedding and dropped into a nightmare, kept alive by nothing but luck and the mercy of aliens who didn’t understand the concept. She wasn’t built for this. None of them were.
Then to Ari—holding herself together with willpower and the desperate, stubborn hope that Ryxin would find her before it was too late. The strongest of them, in some ways. But strength had limits. Everyone’s did.
Then to the walls around them, thick and cold and utterly indifferent to human suffering. Stone that had witnessedcountless others in this same position—bound, bleeding, bargaining for lives that might already be forfeit.
Somewhere beyond these stones, Rowan and Milo were alive. Close. So close she could almost feel them. Waiting for a rescue that might never come through official channels.
Somewhere else in this fortress, Sylas was searching. She could feel him now—faint but present, growing clearer as the drug released its grip on her system. A distant roar of fury and fear that pressed against the bond like something trying to break through glass. Like an animal throwing itself against bars, again and again and again.
Too far. He’s still too far away. And I don’t know how long we have.
“You don’t have to decide immediately.” Vask turned toward the door, his guards falling into step behind him like shadows given form. “I’ll give you time to consider. An hour, perhaps two. Enough for the drug to clear your system and the reality of your situation to settle properly.”
He paused at the threshold, that terrible calm still wrapping him like a cloak. The torchlight caught his eyes—rust-colored, ancient, utterly without mercy.
“But Elsa—” Her name in his mouth felt like a violation, like something sacred being profaned. “When I return, I will need an answer. Cooperate. Open what I need opened. Prove that Lux’s blessing serves the faithful rather than the crown.”
He smiled—a thin, patient expression that promised nothing good.
“Or watch your friends pay first. One by one. Until you change your mind.”
The door groaned shut behind him.
The lock engaged with a sound like bones breaking.
And Elsa sat in the darkness—bound and bleeding, surrounded by friends who were counting on her to save them,connected to an alien king who was tearing himself apart trying to reach her—while somewhere close,so close, the people she’d sworn to rescue waited for salvation that had just become impossibly complicated.
The rope at her wrists cut deeper as she clenched her fists.
One hour. Maybe two. To figure out how to save everyone.
She’d worked with worse odds.
She hoped.
25
Elsa
They moved through the under-fortress like contraband.
Vask’s guards kept them in single file—Elsa first, then Ari, then Mia—with armed Yzefrxyl at the front and rear. No torches. The males navigated by their night vision, leaving the humans to stumble through darkness so complete that Elsa couldn’t see her own bound hands in front of her face. Only the scrape of claws on stone and the occasional grunt of direction told her which way to turn.