Chapter 17 Faith
SEVENTEEN
FAITH
The palace kitchen had become Faith’s sanctuary of creation for the past hour, the air thick with the perfume of caramelizing honey and bright citrus zest that danced together in an alchemy she was still perfecting.
Steam rose from reduction pans while her hands moved with practiced precision, adjusting ratios as she chased the perfect balance for her final festival offering—an innovative dessert that would capture both fire and sweetness, symbolizing everything she and Kovrak had become together.
Her body still hummed with the afterglow of their morning, the healing mate mark on her hip a constant reminder of how everything had shifted between them.
The bond pulsed beneath her skin, making her feel simultaneously herself and something stronger and more focused than she’d ever been.
The memory of taking control, of watching his ice-blue eyes darken with surrender as she moved above him, sent heat through her veins even now.
She turned and reached for the oven handle, a pan of delicate pastry shells balanced in her other hand, completely absorbed in the rhythm of creation.
The scents, the heat, the promise of something extraordinary taking shape under her guidance—it felt like meditation, like coming home to herself in the most fundamental way.
Which was why she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.
“Faith.” Liora’s voice cut through the hum of ovens, tight and strained in a way that caused Faith’s spine to stiffen with instant alarm.
She turned around, pan still gripped in her hand, and felt the world tilt sideways.
Liora stood frozen near the entrance, her bright blue eyes wide with terror as a broad-shouldered stranger held her against his chest. The man’s grip looked bruising even from across the kitchen, his thick fingers wrapped around Liora’s delicate arms with casual threat.
Behind them, entering the kitchen as if he owned every stone of the palace, came Varrek.
“Do as you’re told and don’t resist, please,” Liora managed. The raw fear in her friend’s tone made Faith’s stomach drop like a stone.
Instinct screamed at her to run—to dart through the service corridor she knew led to the guard station. But the sudden glint of metal in Varrek’s hand rooted her feet to the stone floor. A knife, its blade catching the kitchen’s warm light with predatory gleam.
Leaving would mean abandoning Liora to whatever these men intended. And Faith had learned long ago that abandoning people in need was not who she wanted to be.
“Listen to your friend,” Varrek said, his voice carrying the same bored tone he might use to discuss the weather. “Don’t cause problems, and this will be much simpler for everyone involved.”
His green eyes held no malice, no wild anger—just calculating calm that somehow made him infinitely more dangerous than if he’d been ranting or threatening. This was a man who had planned every detail.
“How did you get past the guards?” Faith demanded, surprised by how steady her voice sounded when her heart was hammering against her ribs.
Varrek’s mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’m not the enemy here, Faith. Many in the pride respect me enough to grant entry for official business. The guards were quite accommodating when I explained I needed to discuss some concerns with Kovrak.”
“They told him Kovrak wasn’t here,” the stranger holding Liora added with a grunt. “Said he could wait if he wanted.”
“And I said that was perfectly fine,” Varrek continued smoothly. “Until your friend here showed up and tried to ruin perfectly reasonable plans.”
“You have no business being here!” Liora snapped, some of her usual fire breaking through the fear. “You’re a manipulative—“
The stranger’s grip tightened, cutting off her words.
“I do have business here,” Varrek said, taking a step closer to Faith. The knife remained loose in his grip, almost casual, but its presence filled the space between them like a living threat. “The business of taking you away for a few days. Think of it as a little trip.”
He spoke as though this was an inconvenient errand rather than carefully planned abduction, and that casual tone made Faith’s skin crawl more than outright threats would have.
“Liora too now, since she had to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.” Varrek’s gaze flicked to the smaller woman with mild annoyance. “Really, this could have been so much simpler.”
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.”
He moved closer, close enough that she could smell the expensive cologne that couldn’t quite mask something darker underneath. “You see, once I kill him in our public challenge in two days, I’ll mate you myself. Secure both the crown and the pride’s approval in one elegant stroke.”
Faith’s stomach lurched, bile rising in her throat. “I’d rather die first.”
“Now, now,” Varrek chided, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face with fingers that felt like ice against her skin.
“You’re already quite popular with the people after your little heroics during the fire.
That popularity will elevate my rule beautifully.
Kovrak may be strong in body, but he’s weak in mind—too soft, too sentimental to win a true fight. ”
He leaned down, pressing a possessive kiss to her bound hand that made her skin crawl. “I look forward to learning you soon, Faith. I suspect you’ll find me a much more... decisive mate than our current prince.”
After he left, locking the door with that same deliberate precision, nausea and fury warred inside Faith’s chest. She turned to Liora, whose face had gone pale as moonlight.
“He’s never fought fair,” Liora whispered, her voice shaking. “Even as children, Varrek would stack the odds. Poison, distractions, ambushes—anything to win. I’m afraid he’s already planning something terrible for Kovrak.”
As the hours crawled by and rescue didn’t materialize, Faith was forced to confront the terrifying possibility that Kovrak wouldn’t find her until this alleged public challenge. The joy of their bond completion felt fragile now, stolen, like something that might dissolve into memory alone.
Yet even as defeat threatened to settle in her bones, one thought burned clear and fierce: Liora would make it home safely. If Faith had to bargain, burn, or break for it, her friend would survive this.
“I don’t feel too hopeful,” Liora admitted as the light outside their window began to fade.
Faith spent the next few hours plotting how she might convince Varrek to release Liora, crafting arguments and bargains in her mind. But her hopes shattered when the door opened again and Varrek returned with that same predatory calm.
“You’ve been speaking too much,” he declared, moving directly to Liora’s bed. “Plotting against me, no doubt.”
“Leave her alone!” Faith snarled, pulling against her restraints hard enough to draw blood from her wrists. “She’s done nothing to you!”
“Soon enough, you’ll learn to obey me without question,” Varrek said, unlocking Liora’s chains with efficient movements. The smaller woman tried to resist, but his grip was iron as he dragged her to her feet.
“You can go to hell,” Faith spat, every word dripping with venom.
Varrek’s smile turned cold. “Bad girl.”
The syringe appeared from his pocket like a magician’s trick, and Faith’s world tilted sideways as he approached. “No—wait—“
The needle bit deep, and darkness rushed up to claim her with merciless efficiency. The last thing she heard was Liora’s terrified cry echoing down the corridor as Varrek dragged her away.
Kovrak, she tried one final time as consciousness fled. Save us.
Then the world went black, and Faith could only pray that when she woke up again, they’d both be safe.