Page 24 of Court of Wolves

“Don’t blame me for your own shitty choices,” Vawn muttered, that haunted look in his eyes growing. After a moment, clarity and anger cut it, and he met Kheir’s eyes. “Punching me right now would be a shitty choice, by the way. It wouldn’t be me you pissed off, but the saints.”

“What makes you think I care about your masters?” Kheir asked, glaring the bastard dead in the eye. This was the third time he’d visited Ark and Kheir in their dusty, gilded prison and Kheir hated him more with every time. He’d thought the beastkind was worth saving, had thought there was good in him when Maia fought to save him, had believed they were rescuing an ally. But the bastard was in bed with the saints.

Vawn lunged forward a step, then arrested the motion, his nostrils flaring as he composed himself. “Sit the fuck down andwrite,”he commanded, his voice as sharp as an arrow’s edge.

Kheir had no choice but to obey, even if he gnashed his teeth and glared murder at the asshole. “Write what, exactly?”

“Write to your parents,” Vawn went on with that slice of compulsion on his tongue. “Tell them to pull back the army you requested, that your mate is now safe and the Vassal Empire is secure once more.”

Fuck! Kheir clenched his jaw, a scream starting in his head, but he had no choice. The army his parents had sent when he requested aid back when Maia was locked in the palace was his secret weapon. The last hope he’d had. Its commander was a smart woman, and if she arrived in Vassalaer to find Kheir missing, she’d mount a mission to locate him. He’d been betting on those warriors hunting him down. Had nurtured a secrethope that one of his sisters might scour the continent for him. If anyone could get him out of here it was Ali and Mya.

He dragged his tongue over his fang and set the pen to the paper. The last thing he wanted was to call off an army that could liberate them, but if he didn’t, Vawn would know his compulsion didn’t work on Kheir. So he wrote.

“What would happen if I didn’t?” he asked, flicking a glare up at Vawn between sentences, the room quiet except for the scrape of Ark’s spoon across the bottom of a bowl.

“Karmen will kill Maia Delakore,” Vawn said in a hard voice.

Kheir tried not to flinch but he couldn’t help it. His hand fisted around the pen until the wood creaked. He forced his hand to relax, fraction by fraction.

“Let’s see what you have so far.” Vawn neared, bringing with him a stench of coppery blood and citrus fruit. He murmured as he read the words Kheir had written and shrugged. “Not bad. Are you really so impersonal with your parents? Your Majesties? Not mother and father? Truly?”

“Do you evenhavea mother and father?” Kheir snapped. He regretted the words when Vawn let out a joyless laugh and moved back, something almost… real in the expression that crossed his face.

“I do not,” he replied with a flippant air Kheir didn’t buy. “A little harsh of you to brag about not being an orphan, Kheir Rizian.”

“SinRizian,” Kheir corrected, whatever regret he’d felt sharpened to hatred again.

Vawn waved a hand, returning to his spot on the wall to lean there with an insouciance that seemed faked. “What’s the difference?”

“It’s like calling you Vawn Nor,” Kheir snarled, pretending to look at the words he’d written while he cast a questioning look at Ark. He sat in the chair, listening, forgotten by Vawn.

“Karynor.”

“You see my point,” Kheir muttered, finishing the letter that made him feel physically sick. Maia needed those soldiers to keep marching on Vassal, needed them to find Kheir so he could findher.How long did they have left before this place killed their spirits? How long before it killed them full stop? Weeks? Or did they not have even that?

Kheir dragged a canine over his bottom lip and forced his hand to move. “Give me the wax,” he said with more growl than he’d planned.

Vawn raised an eyebrow. “Who are you to make commands of me?”

“The crown prince of V’haiv,” Kheir bit out, wanting to rise from the bed and pummel his face just to let out some of his anger. Kheir would have been a lot more sympathetic if Vawn was forced to be here, but he spoke freely, moved freely, and fucked with their minds of his own volition.

“Thecaptivecrown prince of V’haiv,” Vawn corrected with a little smirk that made Kheir’s hands curl into fists, crumpling the paper. When Vawn strode over and handed the wax and seal, Kheir snatched them.

“You can use the table,” Vawn commanded magnanimously.

“Thank you,” Kheir simpered, his voice acidic. He stormed across the room to the table, briefly brushing his hand over Ark’s shoulder. They exchanged a quick glance. This was going to shit. They needed some piece of information, needed a way to unlock the door, needed to gainsomethingfrom this. They couldn’t waste another fucking day locked up while Maia was being harmed. Ark’s eyes flicked to the spoon.

“What’s in this for you?” Ark asked, tilting his head towards Vawn. The command he’d been given would have expired with the food he finished. But Kheir still tensed. “Power? Money? A throne?”

Kheir heard the sharp smile in Vawn’s reply but he didn’t turn to see him, slowly pocketing the spoon Ark had set on the table. “The same as you.”

Ark turned, assessing Vawn, hopefully using that quick mind and wisdom of his. “I’m here because I was overpowered and taken hostage. The same happened to you in the palace.”

“Ding ding ding,” Vawn confirmed, laughing bitterly.

“Being their captive doesn’t mean you have to be their bitch,” Kheir muttered. “And I need a flame for this wax.”

“No, you don’t. But I almost forgot, you need a trigger.”

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