Kincaid’s burly form thundered down the steps, the lantern in his hand sweeping light across the room.
Joy burst within her. Relief. She wanted to weep.
"Oh, my God," she whispered. "I knew you would come."
He rushed to the bars, sliding his arm through and curling her in a one-armed hug—or as much of a hug as he could give with the bars between them. "I’ve been trying to find you—"
The words burst out of him in a rush; apologies, explanations, all things he didn’t need to give her.
"I know you did your best," she whispered, cupping his face. "I never doubted you were out there looking for me, not even for a second." Pressing her lips to his, she felt the cold iron bars burning her skin.
Kincaid stepped back, rattling the bars. "I’ll get you out of here."
"Liam." She captured his hand. "There’s something you need to know."
He’d been examining the bars, his jaw heavily lined with stubble, but at that, he looked down. "What? What’s wrong?"
"Nothing’s wrong." A smile burst over her face. "We’re going to have a baby."
He almost ripped the bars down with his bare hands.
* * *
Lark retreated up the stairs,giving Kincaid and Ava some privacy as the pair of them reunited in a sudden flurry of tears and hugging.
Exhilaration still ran through her veins, leaving her body on edge and her heart racing, despite the win. They'd survived. They'd managed to pull it off. She couldn't wait to throw herself into Charlie's arms, and let him spin her in the air.
They'd won, which meant she could finally let herself relax.
A masked wolf hovered at the top of the stairs, and Lark nodded to him as they both turned to the side to pass each other.
She was one step clear of him when a prickling sensation chased its way down her spine. She'd spent years listening to that sensation, and running when it told her to run. The knife slipped into her hand, Lark turning to face him—
Something sharp slid into her side.
Lark slapped at the wolf's grip, but it was too late. Numbness flooded through her, the taunting chill of hemlock sweeping through her veins. All she could hear was the clatter of her knife hitting the stairs and tumbling back down them.
The wolf caught her and swept her up into his arms before she could hit the floor. "Apologies, Your Highness. But it seems there is someone who is very interested in meeting you."
Your Highness.
Lark snatched at his mask with the last ounce of her strength. It came away, revealing his dark features. "L...thr...."
"Indeed," said the man who'd been feeding the Company of Rogues information. "Though I fear my loyalty no longer belongs to the Duke of Malloryn."
Chapter 30
"Lark?" Charlie searched for her as Kincaid helped Ava up the stairs from the cellar.
"She was down in the cellar with us. Slipped away when I let Ava out," Kincaid said, his eyes shadowing as he read the tension in Charlie's face. "Why?"
He counted faces, seeing nothing but a swarm of Black Wolves—Nikolai had shot the vampire between the eyes, and they were inside the cell, cutting it to pieces to make sure it stayed dead.
Blade stood over Malloryn, his body shielding the duke from prying eyes, but he noticed Charlie looking.
And he straightened.
There was no sign of her in the room.