Isaak had thrown both of them into his dungeon. Sasha had seen it coming, but Elias was surprised.

  “You know, if you just unlock the chain and let me go, all of this will be over,” Sasha said.

  “And if you just get hold of that orb again, we’ll never have to see each other,” Elias countered. “I will stop at nothing, and that includes your sweet Ivy.”

  “You’ve made that perfectly clear, dear,” Sasha answered. Her fingers traced along the damp stone wall. She could collect the Tears of Vain from the walls, but it wouldn’t be enough to break the spell Elias had placed on the chain. She should have guessed he was skilled in magic—how could he not be? Her eyes caught on his hand, and she raised an eyebrow.

  “You’ve already healed?”

  “Being the king’s man and a healer has its advantages. Suppose that’s the main reason I’ve reached adulthood,” Elias said, his eyes narrowing and glowing yellow in the dark. “But then again, living in peace in the village wouldn’t have put me in danger in the first place, would it?”

  Sasha smiled sweetly.

  “A wiser man wouldn’t have poked Isaak with a stick.”

  And Elias would always be in danger. Sasha needed the rare orb containing his specific blend of magic and soul to overthrow the king.

  “I know he can bring the orb back, Sasha.”

  Sasha snorted. She was stuck here, and no closer to freeing Ivy. She missed her sister dearly. And Isaak—she couldn’t believe he’d had the gall to put her here with Elias. Sasha felt betrayed.

  “Did it feel like he was in the mood to bring it back?” she asked. Isaak might have imprisoned her, but he would never help Elias. They were too close for betrayal.

  Elias turned his back to her, as far away as he could manage with the chain forcing them to keep each other company. Sasha sat down on the floor, tucked a pillow beneath her, and started whispering. The walls had provided her with the Tears; now it was time to start building the spell and hope the rest of the ingredients she needed would present themselves. They usually did.

  “Lovebirds,” Isaak said as he entered the basement. He looked at the chain still connecting them and their postures, backs against each other. Sasha smiled at him.

  “The chef wonders if you prefer chicken with noodles or the vegetarian soup of the week?”

  Isaak chuckled and sat down on the other side of the bars. He hooked a finger, motioning Sasha to come closer. She smiled at him and shook her head.

  “I’ll take the lamb, medium rare, please,” said Sasha. “And could you ask if he could include that marvelous salad as well?”

  “I’ll take the same,” Elias said. “Make mine well done.”

  “One lamb and one vegetarian soup,” Isaak said. “Should I ask him to add an extra egg too, kitten?”

  Sasha couldn’t help but smile. You just had to love Isaak.

  “As a friend, Isaak, I’d recommend you let us out of here,” Elias said, sighing. “You’ll only draw the king’s attention.”

  “You’re the one putting a chain on my girlfriend,” Isaak shot back. He sighed and stood. “Just let her go and trust me to do my best. I’ll get it back, eventually.”

  “No,” Elias said flatly. “I’ll take the soup.”

  Isaak left. Sasha didn’t think Elias’s words would break him, but there was something—something in the way Isaak acted—that felt unfamiliar. He just left, no comment, no undercurrent of anger.

  “I would guess even the king could be understanding under these circumstances,” she said, fishing for a reaction. “After all, he exiled his best friend on the pure rumor of him having a crush on the queen.”

  Isaak didn’t turn around. He closed the door smoothly. It unsettled Sasha.

  “You don’t know the full story,” Elias said.

  “I don’t?”

  Elias offered no further explanation.

  The salad came with subtle extra ingredients. Decorations, mostly. Still, they would do the job—disintegrate a chain molded in dark magic.

  “When will the king let Ivy go?” Sasha ate the lamb, savoring the flavor while studying every line on Elias’s face. She hoped the soup would burn his tongue.

  “Why do you think she wants to leave?”

  He was mocking her, behaving superior. It must feel good, being pampered one’s whole life.

  “Let’s see. Maybe because you kidnapped her? And yes, Ivy must know by now—the king set out to kill Ella.”

  “No, that was all my doing. My father wanted to put her in prison, which, must I say, would have been a fate far worse than death.” He smiled faintly. “But I’ll admit he did enjoy my creativity.”

  She clenched her fists.

  “Sure he did. What a fabulous story—the lost son killing his own mother.” Sasha hated the king more with each passing day. Him being her father did nothing to soften her rage. “I’ve heard about the prison. He eats them alive.” She forced herself not to lash out at Elias and shuddered. “I suppose you do too, judging by your magic’s strength.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The chain between them wasn’t the work of a novice.

  Elias put down his spoon. He leaned forward over the nonexistent table, placing his hands near hers on the cold floor.

  “Never, ever say things like that again. I might just stop being nice.”

  “How come you shine so brightly, then, Elias? For someone your age.”

  She didn’t want to compliment him, but there was no way around it. He couldn’t have played fair.

  “I’ve gone through some trouble, milady. But I guess that’s nothing you would know anything about. By all means, it looks like your strength comes from stealing. Does it not?”

  She didn’t answer. She gritted her teeth slowly. Every word stung because it was the truth. She was a taker, one of the strongest they’d ever seen. And when she started to take, she never wanted to let go.

  Still, although the forbidden feelings and the shame, she would continue to steal. It was what she did best. She wanted to free herself from her forced bond with Elias. So, it was natural, she had to take something from him—and the best way to do that was by night. She was biding her time. She knew exactly what would break the dark magic engraved in the chain.

  Sasha lay still against him, watching the lines of shadows form along his jaw. He was a spectacular man—and her enemy.

  “You asked for it,” she whispered, leaning forward. She pressed her lips to his in a fleeting kiss, stealing something intangible but potent. He didn’t move, his breath still even, but she sensed in every cell of her body that he was awake. The warmth of his breath confirmed it. She hated that she felt anything at all, but she couldn’t deny it.

  “I gave that of free will,” he said when she pulled away.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sasha replied, surprised he understood what she’d done.

  She had the Tears of Vain. She had the herbs. And now, she’d stolen something vital from him. She began to murmur softly, her words carefully chosen and deliberate. Each syllable tore at the chain binding them. She felt the hot flow of magic in her stomach as the chain disappeared. The rush of power was intoxicating, filling her veins with a sinister greed. She inhaled deeply, savoring the adrenaline surge.

  “You’re still in a prison cell. I will not let you go,” Elias said.

  “You’ll have no choice.” She chuckled, feeling as though she exhaled black smoke.

  “You always have a choice,” Elias replied, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her gently, a curious, questioning touch, soft and full of flavor—everything she was not feeling at the moment. It was exactly what she yearned for. She hated herself for it. Isaak was right: she did have a soft spot.

  Sasha met Elias halfway, returning his kiss before the question could finish forming. She had tasted him before, and it had been good. This felt like punishment. Too bad she hadn’t known she was obviously into self-torture. She should have realized.

  Before dawn broke, the door creaked open. Isaak stood in the doorway, frozen in place. He looked at the spot where the chain had been and then at the way she and Elias were entangled, her head resting on Elias’s shoulder.

  “Sasha,” Isaak said. She rose, interrupting whatever he was about to say. She didn’t want to hear it.

  She walked over to the bars. He wanted an explanation, but he didn’t deserve one. He wouldn’t get it. She showed him her wrists and shrugged.

  “I’ve solved the problem. Let me out of here.”

  “And?”

  “And,” Sasha said, pondering, “I’ve got stuff to attend to. Sibling stuff.” She laughed, ignoring Elias’s soft chuckle. “I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, Isaak?”

  Isaak sighed, scratching his back. Sasha slipped her hand through the bars, softly brushing his chin. He took her hand and looked her straight in the eyes.

  “Leave the sibling stuff to me, Sasha, and I’ll let you out.”

  “You have no right.”

  He grabbed her hand firmly, pulling her body close to the bars.

  “I can’t lose both of you, Sasha,” he whispered. “I’ll handle Ivy.”

  “I won’t take that risk,” she replied. She ran her fingers through Isaak’s red hair. “Don’t worry. You’ll lose no one.”

  He sighed and pulled a key from his pocket.

  “I’ll give you an hour, Sasha. Don’t make me regret this.”

  He opened the cell door. Sasha stepped out.

  “An hour?” she asked, stunned.

  “Not much of an advantage,” Elias said. “I’ll catch her before sunset. I’ll come back with her. And this time, Isaak, you’ll give me the orb in exchange.”

  “You’re letting him out?” Sasha asked.

  Isaak nodded.

  “You’ll be safe, kitten. I promise you an hour—spend it wisely.”

  Sasha wanted to yell, to punch Isaak hard, but she didn’t. She knew him too well. He never changed his mind, and her hour was too valuable to waste. She’d kick his ass later—and Ivy would help her. For now, she had to make the most of her hour.

  When she found her sister, Isaak would regret this. Ivy would make him pay. It would be a bad day to be named Isaak.