Page 67 of Prisoner of the Lycan Prince

“Now!” I bellowed. Hand in hand with my people, I charged the barrier that had imprisoned me for ninety years. As we ran, light arced before us, magic surging like a tidal wave. Energy crackled. Fuck me, we were doing it. I leaned forward, a vision of Harper in my head.

The wave slammed into an invisible wall, the force of the impact throwing me backward. Goliath and Adina fell to the ground, their hands slipping from mine. I staggered but managed to stay on my feet as the wave of magic sloshed up the wall and spread outward, lightning forking around its edges.

For a moment, everything was still. Nothing happened. Doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind. Around me, people stood on shaky legs, their gazes trained on the barrier.

The lightning winked out, plunging the forest around us into darkness. I clenched my jaw, doubt settling into anger.

“Look!” someone cried.

Light flashed high on the wall. Then it spread, forming a crack. More cracks formed. They spiderwebbed across the transparent barrier, forking and growing wider. Wider. The web stretched across the air, spreading and spreading and lighting up the forest around us.

BOOM.

A rush of air knocked me backward. For a moment, the sky lit up, the night turning to day.

The barrier dropped, a million fragments of light shimmering in the air before disappearing. Moments later, another boom echoed in the distance…then another. All three barriers had fallen. I was free.

For a second, silence reigned. Then everyone broke into a thunderous cheer. Leander and Keir embraced, pounding each other on the back. Rolfe gazed up at the last of the disintegrating fragments with a soft smile on his face. Triumph pumped hot in my veins as I looked at a jubilant Goliath.

“You got that address?”

His eyes flashed. The dragon scales on his face glittered like emeralds. “I absolutely do.”

Chapter

Twenty-Two

HARPER

Food paraded in a steady stream behind my closed lids. Chicken. Pasta. Baskets of fresh bread glistening with butter glaze.

It was stupid to indulge myself this way. But I couldn’t help it. Every time I closed my eyes now, food dominated my dreams. I’d given up wishing for freedom. Or dignity. Or even uninterrupted sleep.

No, I just wanted a bowl of mashed potatoes and a Diet Coke. My mouth watered, the hiss of carbonation sizzling in my ears. God, Diet Coke?—

“Harper?”

I opened my eyes, meeting my father’s gaze across the cell. He sat against the wall, his knees drawn to his chest in a pose that matched mine. I didn’t need a mirror to know our appearances matched too. The sweat stains on his shirt were darker than when I first saw him. His hair didn’t stick up anymore. Now, it lay flat and slick against his scalp.

“Yeah?” I asked, my voice rusty.

Dad’s throat worked as he swallowed. “Are you in pain?”

I tucked my right hand behind my left, hiding the dirty, blood-encrusted bandage Hector had tied around my pinky. “I’m okay,” I lied. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

My father nodded slowly, but his expression told me he didn’t believe me. We hadn’t spoken much since Armand shoved us back in the cell. We both knew our conversations weren’t private.

And it wasn’t like we could hatch an escape plan. The metal door stayed shut except for the brief moments when someone thrust a bucket of water into the cell.

At first, I tried to mark time by how often the bucket appeared. But I couldn’t figure out a pattern, and I had no idea how long Dad and I had been imprisoned. Two days? Four? Not a week, surely. Not yet. My hunger was still bearable.

But my hope for release was dwindling. Based on fragments of conversation that floated through the door, Armand was using me as bait to lure Einar into facing off with him in battle.

But Einar wasn’t coming. Arlo’s talk of fated mates was a distant memory.

My throat tightened. For all I knew, Arlo was dead. He’d gone wild after Armand took my finger, thrashing and screaming as he fought to break his bonds. Hector and the others subdued him, and the sound of fists thudding into flesh had followed me as Armand dragged me to the cell and dumped me inside.

“Strings,” Dad said softly.

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