Page 65 of Prisoner of the Lycan Prince

A short distance away, Goliath and Adina held hands, prepared to morph to the address Orson had given me. It was clear someone had forced him to make that phone call. Armand must have gotten to him. Did that mean Orson was working with the werewolves against his own daughter? I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to assume the worst.

“We’re ready,” Goliath said.

I looked at Keir and Leander. “Are you two absolutely certain you’re on board with this? You’re not battle-tested. There’s zero shame in staying behind.”

Leander’s amethyst eyes glinted with determination. He’d pulled his hair into a top knot, and feathers poked from the red mass like a spiky crown. “I may not be a warrior, my prince, but I am very difficult to kill.”

Keir inclined his head in my direction. “I’m the first to admit I’m a poor fighter, Your Highness, but I can offer transport. You’ve helped all of us through the years. Now let us help you.”

Gratitude swelled my chest. I met each of their gazes as I spoke. “I admire your bravery. It takes courage to enter enemy territory like this. You’re doing what I can’t, and you have my sincere thanks. Please be careful.”

“We will,” Goliath said. He looked at Keir. “You remember the plan? We go in fast, grab Harper if she’s there, and poof out. No lingering.”

Keir nodded. “No lingering.”

“Right, then. On three…” Goliath counted down, and he and Adina winked out of sight. A split second later, Keir disappeared with Leander.

Minutes passed. I waited, a mix of pride, nerves, and guilt swirling through me. My people—no, my friends—had stepped up when I needed them. But my weakness was responsible for Armand’s attack in the first place. If I hadn’t lost control, he would have never been able to ambush Arlo and kidnap Harper. And my failure extended even farther back. I’d taken Harper from her home—and put her in Armand’s path.

Everything was my fault. And what was I doing to fix the mess I’d made? Waiting on the lawn like a coward while the people who depended on me for safety put their lives on the line for?—

Goliath and Adina appeared in a cloud of smoke. A beat later, Keir popped into existence with Leander in tow. Keir swayed on his feet, his forehead beaded with sweat.

“Easy,” Leander said, thrusting a shoulder under Keir’s armpit. Keir’s eyelids fluttered, and he groaned as the phoenix propped him up.

“What happened?” I asked, going to Goliath.

His face was devoid of color, the dragon scales on his cheeks faded to a sickly green. He held something—a bundle wrapped in what appeared to be a white cloth napkin.

Between one breath and the next, I gripped his shirt in two fists and hauled him off the ground. “Tell me what happened!” I growled, the fire within me flaring to life.

Goliath’s mouth worked as he clearly struggled to speak. The bundle slipped from his hand and fell to the ground. An object rolled across the grass and into a patch of moonlight. The silvery glow threw the napkin’s contents into stark relief.

I stared, my mind refusing to comprehend what I was seeing.

But I knew. I knew.

Harper’s little finger. Severed at the second knuckle. The nail carefully shaped and coated with a layer of the palest pink.

Goliath spoke in a trembling voice. “The gas station was abandoned. We found the…” He gulped. “We found th-that and a note.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Armand gives an address. He demands you meet him in person tonight, or he’ll…” Goliath’s voice faltered. He shook his head.

“Or what?” I asked, rage building.

Goliath drew a deep breath. “Or he’ll continue sending pieces.”

Black smeared my vision. The fire followed. It pumped through my veins as the scenery around me rippled. My fangs shot down, shredding my bottom lip. Gasps rang out. Around me, people cringed away, their faces suddenly too blurry to make out.

Helpless. I was utterly helpless, trapped in my prison. Armand might as well have been holding Harper on the moon. I couldn’t participate in his twisted scavenger hunt. Because I couldn’t fucking get to her.

“Einar Rothkilde!” a woman called, her voice cutting through the tempest in my mind.

I swung toward the sound in time to see Myrna emerge from the maze. Her beauty was flawless, and her white gown was immaculate as she came to me. Rising on tiptoe, she cupped cool hands around my jaw.

“Listen to me, prince of lycans.” Myrna’s words overlapped as if she spoke from a great distance. “The gods gifted and cursed me to see the deaths of those around me. My solace is that I only see one death at a time. I’ve seen Armand Reverdin’s demise.”

“What does that mean?” I croaked, the last threads of my sanity threatening to unravel.

“Armand Reverdin is fated to die before you or anyone else from Draithmere.” Myrna dropped her hands from my face and stepped back. Her eyes grew unfocused. “Death hovers just over Reverdin’s shoulder. He won’t survive this night.”

---