Faith’s mind raced, calculating odds and distances. Two men, both larger and stronger than her and Liora combined. The knife that could reach either of them before she could cross the kitchen.
But her hands were steady, and there were weapons everywhere if she was creative enough.
Acting on instinct rather than strategy, Faith snatched the nearest bowl of flour and hurled it directly into Varrek’s face. White powder exploded across his features, and in the split second he flinched backward, she lunged forward with a sharp kick aimed at his wrist.
Pain exploded up her injured leg as her ankle gave way beneath the sudden movement, sending her stumbling sideways. In that single miscalculation, Varrek was on her, driving her to the ground with crushing weight.
“I warned you not to cause problems,” he hissed, flour still dusting his dark hair as he pinned her wrists to the cold stone. “Now you’ve forced my hand.”
The syringe appeared from his pocket like magic—a small, clinical thing that looked far too innocent for the terror it inspired. Faith twisted desperately, trying to wrench her arm free, but his grip was iron.
“What did you—“ she started, but the cold prick of the needle bit into her skin before she could finish the thought.
The effect was immediate and terrifying. The room began to tilt and blur at the edges, her limbs growing treacherously heavy as though gravity had suddenly doubled. She tried to push against Varrek’s weight, but her muscles refused to obey, turning liquid and useless beneath her skin.
Kovrak.She reached desperately for the mate bond, trying to project her terror and location through the telepathic link he’d told her they now shared. But the connection felt muffled, distant, like trying to shout through thick fog.
Please hear me. Please find me.
“Up you come,” Varrek said almost gently, gathering her limp form into his arms as though she weighed nothing. “Time for that little trip I mentioned.”
The world swayed sickeningly as he carried her toward the service corridors, Liora’s muffled protests echoing behind them as the stranger dragged her along. Faith tried to focus, tried to memorize their route, but the drug was pulling her consciousness down into thick, syrupy darkness.
The last thing she registered before the world went black was the hollow clang of a transport door sealing shut and the suffocating scent of metal and oil that meant they were already leaving the palace behind.
Kovrak,she tried one more time, pouring every ounce of will into the thought.Find us.
Then darkness swallowed her whole.
Consciousness returned to Faith like a tide creeping over broken glass—slow, jagged, and accompanied by the sharp bite of metal against her skin. The world assembled itself in fragments: the musty scent of damp stone, the ache in her shoulders from an unnatural position, and the cold reality of iron shackles circling her wrists and ankles.
She blinked against the dim light filtering through a narrow window set high in the stone wall, her vision swimming as the remnants of whatever drug Varrek had injected coursed through her system. The room was cramped and utilitarian, more cell than chamber, with rough-hewn walls that spoke of hasty construction rather than palace craftsmanship.
“Faith?” Liora’s voice came from beside her, tremulous and raw. “Thank the twin suns you’re awake.”
Faith turned her head, the movement sending a spike of pain through her neck, and found her friend chained to an identical narrow bed barely an arm’s length away. Tear tracks streaked Liora’s face, and her usual bright energy had dimmed to something fragile and frightened.
“How long was I unconscious?” Faith’s voice came out as a croak, her throat dry as desert sand.
“Hours. Maybe five or six? The light’s been changing.” Liora’s chains clinked as she shifted, testing the restraints with the same futile hope Faith felt stirring in her own chest. “I’ve been listening at the door when I can. Varrek’s people are talking about keeping us here until the final day of the festival.”
The final day. Two more days. Faith’s heart lurched as she remembered Kovrak’s plans to propose, and the joy that had filled his ice-blue eyes when she’d accepted his mark that morning. It felt like a lifetime ago now.
“There’s more,” Liora whispered, her voice dropping to barely audible. “That drug he gave you—it’s designed to dull mate senses. I heard them talking about it. They want to make sure Kovrak can’t track you through the bond.”
Faith reached instinctively for the warm pulse of connection that had hummed between her and Kovrak since her marking and found only muffled static. The bond felt like trying to shout underwater—her thoughts thick and unfocused, uncertain whether any echo of her fear could penetrate the chemical fog.
Kovrak,she tried anyway.Please help us.
Nothing but silence answered her.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed beyond their prison door, and Faith’s muscles tensed despite the restraints. The lock turned with deliberate precision, and Varrek stepped into the cramped space as though he were inspecting property he already owned.
“Ah, you’re awake,” he said with mock courtesy, his green eyes scanning her face with clinical interest. “How was your nap, my dear? I do hope the accommodations aren’t too uncomfortable.”
“You bastard,” Faith spat, testing the strength of her shackles and finding them disappointingly secure. “You’ll never get away with this. Kovrak will tear this place apart looking for us.”
Varrek’s laugh was rich and genuinely amused, the sound echoing off the stone walls like a predator’s purr. “Oh, I’m counting on dear Kovrak’s devotion, actually. It’s going to make my plan so much more satisfying.”