Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Islipped down the corridor with the king’s rant still echoing in my head, his words like thorns digging beneath my skin. The firelight cast long shadows across the walls, each one shifting like it might lunge for me if I let my guard drop.
Then I paused.
Zander stood at the far end of the hallway, one shoulder leaned against the stone, arms crossed, his expression unreadable beneath the flicker of the sconces.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice low, tight.
His lips quirked. “I live here.”
Right. Castle-born. Royal.
“Oh. Right.”
He pushed off the wall and took a step toward me. “What did my father want?”
I hesitated, then answered carefully, “He asked about Kaelith. About our bond. How she behaves in combat. It felt more like a… test than curiosity.”
“There’s more,” Zander said, his voice dipping, losing its edge of teasing. “You waited by the door, didn’t you?”
I blinked. “How did you—?”
“I know you,” he said.
“I heard him speaking to himself after I left. His words were erratic. He’s…”
Zander’s jaw clenched. “Unstable.”
I exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I got that impression.”
“We are aware,” he said, falling in step beside me. “Dorian may have to step up as regent sooner than we hoped.”
“What’s causing it?” I asked. “He’s bonded to a dragon. That should’ve made him immune to disease.”
“We don’t know.” His voice was tight, clipped. “The healers are doing everything they can.”
“Are they?” I stopped. “Because more and more healers are being reassigned to outer kingdoms.”
Zander’s face hardened like steel pulled from the forge. “That’s Theron’s department. He handles security and safety protocols for Warriath. Not me.”
“I see,” I said softly, but the pieces were already moving in my mind.
He didn’t press further. Instead, he gestured down the hall. “Let me escort you back to your room.”
I nodded and fell into step beside him, but my eyes weren’t focused on the halls we passed.
I was already mapping out every twist and tunnel, tracing the route I’d need to reach the dungeon without detection.
My mind was a blade whetted by danger, and I knew, soon I’d have to cut through the veil of secrets no one else dared touch.
Zander’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“When are you planning to infiltrate the dungeon?”
I looked at him sharply.
He didn’t smile.
Didn’t blink.
He already knew.
So I gave him the truth. “Soon.”
And he just nodded. “Then I suggest you don’t go alone.”
When I opened the door to the barracks, I expected silence.
Instead, I found every single member of my squad sitting upright, blankets half-pulled around their waists, boots half-laced, eyes wide and waiting.
They should’ve been asleep.
But none of them had even tried.
Cordelle was perched on the edge of his bunk with a book clutched in his lap. Riven leaned back against her wall, arms crossed. Tae stood, like he’d been pacing until the second the door creaked open. Jax and Naia sat side by side, and Ferrula had her dagger in her hand, idle but alert.
Kaelith’s amusement stirred behind my thoughts as Zander followed me inside, the door closing softly behind him.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly.
“You sure about that?” Riven asked, arching a brow.
I glanced at Zander, then back at my squad. “You deserve to know what happened.”
And I told them.
The summons. The meeting. The king’s questions about Kaelith. His too-casual inquiries, the tightness in his smile, the way he had seemed so lucid and yet somehow miles from reality. And then the words I overheard, his obsession with the Virelith Crystal, the fae, the prisoner.
The silence after I finished was noticeable.
“You want to infiltrate the dungeon tonight, don’t you?” Tae said, stepping closer.
“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. “We know the next guard rotation is in forty minutes. That’s the best time to go in.”
“I can get you in,” Zander said quietly from behind me.
“No.” I turned toward him. “You can’t be anywhere near this. You’re a royal.”
Before he could argue, Tae grabbed a dark shirt from his wardrobe and pulled it over his head.
“Then I’ll go,” Tae said. “I know the castle almost as well as Zander. We just have to get to the lower levels.”
“I know a way,” I said, reaching into my memory. “Siergen showed me an access tunnel into the castle, but we’ll have to go one level deeper than the vaults.”
Zander’s gaze locked on mine, eyes sharp. “That was you.”
I stilled.
The night of the vault infiltration. I’d been fast, silent. A shadow in the dark.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I saw you. You were with your sister.”
His eyes flickered, just a flash of something softer, more human.
“She’s beautiful,” I added.
“Yes. She is,” he whispered.
Something passed between us then. Not quite understanding. Not quite grief. But recognition, maybe.
And beneath it all, a storm still waited.
Forty minutes. One plan.
We gathered around Cordelle’s cot, maps and schematics spread out in front of us, illuminated by a single glowstone perched on the edge of his bunk. Every voice was low. Every breath tense.
“There are four guards posted near the dungeon entry,” Cordelle whispered. “They rotate every two hours. Next shift begins in approximately thirty-six minutes.”
“We’ll have a narrow window,” Tae said, arms crossed over his chest. “Once we’re inside, we don’t stay longer than thirty minutes. Any more than that and we risk being caught mid-shift.”
Zander leaned over the map, one finger dragging across the lower levels of the castle. “I can cause a disturbance. Something big enough to pull the guards from their posts about an hour after you infiltrate.”
I looked at him, brow lifting. “How exactly are you planning to do that?”
His lips curved into that arrogant, infuriating smile that somehow never quite met his eyes. “Trust me.”
I narrowed my gaze. “That’s not comforting.”
“But it’ll work,” he said simply.
We hammered out the details for the next thirty minutes, convinced that there was nothing more we could do but try.
Tae and I slipped into the shadowed corridor under the battlements, moving like phantoms toward the concealed entry. I led him past the rows of private rooms, the damp air thick with stone and moss.
“There,” I whispered, pointing to the wall-mounted sconce embedded with an illumination crystal. Its light flickered faintly, like it held its breath.
I reached out, gripping the cool iron and twisting it clockwise.
The wall groaned in protest. A soft click echoed through the corridor, and then the stone shifted, turning slowly on its axis until a narrow, dark passageway yawned before us.
“Remind me to thank Siergen later,” Tae muttered.
“If we survive this,” I whispered back, and stepped through.
The passage led us quickly toward the area near the vaults, the air growing colder with each step. The silence down here was different, thicker. Not empty, but waiting.
We bypassed the familiar turn, instead following the winding stairwell that spiraled down to the lowest level of the keep.
I froze at the base of the stairs.
Voices.
Two guards stood in the hall just beyond, speaking in low tones, too close to the entrance of the prisoner’s cell. Their weapons were sheathed, relaxed… until another patrol group approached from the left.
Damn it.
I turned to Tae, motioning sharply for him to follow me into the alcove beside the stairs, heart hammering.
But he shook his head. His mouth formed the words—They’ll see us.
“We don’t have a choice,” I hissed.
He exhaled once, then stepped forward and whispered, “Hold on.”
I grabbed his arm just in time to feel a strange ripple of heat pulse through him. Tae’s eyes sharpened, glowing faintly, just for a heartbeat.
All five guards froze. Then turned and bolted in the opposite direction, as if some unseen threat had just erupted behind them.
Their footsteps faded down the corridor.
“What the hell was that?” I breathed.
“My power?”
“What is it?”
He nodded, chest rising. “I’ll tell you later.”
We didn’t waste time. We bolted down the last set of stairs and turned the final corner—
Only to find the heavy iron door that led to the prisoner’s chamber… open.
No guards. No wards. No chains.
Tae and I exchanged a glance, breath catching in our throats.
“Why isn’t he locked up?” I whispered.
No answer.
We stepped through the doorway.
And into the room where no prisoner was chained. Where no barriers remained.
The moment we stepped into the room, I stopped short.
“This is a prison cell?” Tae muttered beside me, his voice hushed in disbelief.
It looked nothing like the dungeon I’d imagined.
The suite was lavish, opulent even. Rich crimson and gold tapestries draped the stone walls, their edges embroidered with ancient sigils I didn’t recognize.
The floor was covered with a deep-violet rug that felt far too expensive to exist in a place meant to hold criminals.
A low table carved from dark wood sat in the center of the seating area, surrounded by plush velvet chairs and a curved couch with dragon-scale inlays along the arms. Shelves lined the far wall, filled with tomes and crystalline decanters that caught the glow of the enchanted sconces overhead.
To the right, a closed door hinted at an adjoining bedroom.
“What the hell?” Tae whispered. “This looks similar to the king’s sitting room.”
Before I could answer, the bedroom door opened with a soft click.
And he stepped out.
Fae.
There was no mistaking it.