I’m ripped from Nyx’s hands, thrown into the space next to him as metal chains sprout from the ground. Before I can react, shift, or do anything, the manacles snap around my wrists and ankles, binding me in the same way that Nyx is.
Isolde smiles with a satisfied smile. “Oh, I’m forgetting one.”
She snaps her fingers, and Ambrose appears on my left in chains as well.
Ambrose, me, and then Nyx.
Amora and Sylara are still bound on the outside of the cage. And I’m more terrified for them than for me. Isolde needs me alive, but I’m not sure if she values their lives.
“Lock the vampire up. I have use for her. Get rid of the wolf,” Isolde says.
I scream. “No! Isolde, I’ll do anything! Let Sylara go!”
Isolde just looks at me with amusement in her eyes. Sylara stands strong, unafraid of what happens next. Visions of Rowena flash in my head. Of watching her die. No one else should die because of me.
Sylara gives me one last look—a proud, confident woman at peace with what comes next because she knows she’s given everything she can to this world. And if she’s going to die, it’s going to be trying to protect her friends.
A tear drags down my cheek. I don’t accept this. I don’t accept her death as a natural consequence of this battle. I won’t.
I grit my teeth—pure determination crossing my face, letting Sylara know I’ll do everything in my power to save her. The same as Nyx, Ambrose, Kael, and everyone else I love.
And then, she’s gone. Dragged away beyond where I can see or hear. My only hope that she wasn’t instantly killed is that she is dragged in the same direction as Amora.
Please let them be locked up together in another cell.
“I’ll give you three some time to get reacquainted with each other. You belong to the Moonfire coven now.” She turns to leave, then turns back. “I almost forgot the best part. That little vial the vampire lord took is a prototype. The first of its kind. It only works for two hours.”
My eyes widen in fear.
“Enjoy your time, what little you have left of it,” Isolde says, vanishing before our eyes.
I turn to Nyx. He doesn’t flinch—not even a trace of fear at Isolde’s words.
Then I turn to look at Ambrose, shame coils tight in my chest. He saw me kiss Nyx. Saw me fight for Nyx when Ambrose is my mate. The one I’m supposed to be falling in love with. Nyx is in love with Amora. Not me. I should hate him for that.
But when Ambrose looks back at me, there’s no anger. No accusation. Only admiration.
He doesn’t even chastise me for ending up here, not that I did anything. Isolde clearly transported me here with a dramatic flair.
“The others?” I ask Ambrose.
“We got them out when we realized we were going to lose. Amora, Sylara, and I—we were the prizes we knew Isolde would want. We separated.”
“I thought you said no one was here?”
“We thought that too at first. Everyone was glamoured. Everyone was hidden. Runes covered their scents from us. And then we were ambushed. Sylara, Amora, and I fought, while Riven, Emeric, Kael, and the others led everyone to safety.”
“Sylara is—”
“She’s going to survive. You have to believe that. And if she doesn’t, it’s not your fault, love,” Nyx says, still using his term of endearment for me.
“Any death is my fault. I’m the one who begged them to come here.”
“And I was the one who was captured, whose life they were risking to save. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine for not escaping.”
“Please, stop it, you two, it’s no one’s fault but Isolde’s and the rest of Moonfire coven,” Ambrose says.
I look to Nyx. “What happened? How are you?”