Page 127 of The Night Prince

The hours bleed together.

I bring my knees to my chin and clutch my legs in an attempt to keep warm. The torches flicker on and off. I’ve never been this cold before. My head throbs as blood trickles from the wound Philip gave me, then dries on my cheek. No one speaks. Despair hangs in the air, acrid and heavy. James mumbles something every so often. Ryan whimpers. I just want to sleep.

I fall between the nightmare I’m trapped within and the terrors that haunt my dreams. Both are dark and restless, filled with prison cells and darkness. They plague me until I can no longer differentiate between the two. All I can feel is the cold, oily terror that curls like a snake in my chest. It suffocates whatever wolf I have within me. It whispers that I will die. That no one will care. That my life will have amounted to nothing.

All of this has something to do with the God of Night.

Callum told me that his acolytes used to sacrifice Wolves to gain his favor. Does Alexander intend to sacrifice me? Will he kill my brother too?

Alexander must have guards. Perhaps I can persuade one of them that killing the heirs to the Southlands throne would be ill-advised. I don’t want to use the name and title of my father—the man who killed my mother—to save myself, but I don’t want to die, either. I need to save Ryan, too.

My mind frantically whirs through every possibility until dots dance before my eyes and I slump against the wall.

Hopelessness crashes over me.

I hear my mother’s voice echo in the darkness.

Have courage, little one.

I don’t know how much time passes before footsteps approach the door. Hooded guards enter the kennels and open all the doors except mine. Wolves are dragged into the corridor. They’re too weak to fight and they’re shackled, and collars are placed around their necks.

James grabs the bars of my cell before he’s led away. “Does he know you’re here?” he asks hurriedly.

“Callum?”

James looks at me pointedly as the guard shoves him forward. “No. Not Callum.”

Darling, I will always find you.

Cold darkness spreads through my veins. “Yes.”

He nods. “I’ll try and buy you some time.”

“What are we going to do?” Ryan asks behind him.

“You’re going to do nothing, lad.”

Chained together, they’re led away.

**

A key turns in the lock, and I jerk my head upright as finally, someone comes for me.

I spring to my feet. “Listen, I don’t know what Alexander has told you, but I’m the Southlands princess. My father would reward you greatly if—”

The man who walks into my cell looks like a phantom in dark robes with a hood that conceals his face. He grabs my arm, and his fingers tighten painfully around it. I catch a glimpse of a tattoo—a key with crescent moons in the bow—on his wrist. Night’s symbol. My hope flickers out. Alexander’s guards are zealots, like him.

“We don’t answer to your father,” he says.

He drags me into the curved corridor.

“Are you going to sacrifice me to your god?” My teeth chatter with the cold as he drags me up some stairs.

“We need to check you’re the right one first.”

“The right what?”

The man says nothing as I’m pulled through a door and down a corridor lit by flickering torches. The walls are damp and coated with a layer of lichen. The scent of salt and blood hangs in the air, and there is noise ahead—shouts and jeers, the rattle of metal and a roar of pain.

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