a knee and kicked backward, catching Vrik in the thigh. He yelled and grasped a handful of my hair as he forced me—kicking and shoving—into the house and down the cellar stairs.
“Where’s Wolfe?” I screamed for the millionth time as I was thrown into the cellar.
I landed with a wounded grunt, my ribs hollering in pain as they impacted with the stone floor.
I heard a curse and then Wolfe’s face hovered over mine. “Rogan, are you all right?”
He was here? In the cellar? I groaned and relaxed, thumping my head against the hard ground. “Ouch.”
“Rogan?” His fingers were on my face. My eyes flashed open and my heart lodged somewhere in my throat at his proximity. I could see the gold striations in his blue eyes, his dark lashes enviably long. Suddenly I felt a strange, my skin was too hot, and squirmed at his concerned expression.
Distrusting it, I flinched away and watched the concern disappear. He sighed and retreated from me. “I take it you’re fine.”
“Yes, I’m fine.” I struggled to a sitting position, willing my heart to slow. I pushed my skirts back down into some semblance of modesty. Not that it mattered. I was torn, smelly, and unwashed. Feeling Wolfe’s unwavering gaze, I stopped fussing and glared at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I’ve just never heard you say my name before.”
“What?”
“You were yelling ‘Where’s Wolfe?’ over and over again.”
I flushed, not wanting him to misunderstand. “I thought they were separating us, and we have a better chance of escape if we’re together. And you’ve heard me say your name before.”
Wolfe shook his head, smiling wryly. “No. It’s always Captain or Stovia or Captain Stovia. Then there’s vikomt—you usually spit that one at me.”
Uncomfortable for reasons unknown and not wishing to have anything that could qualify as an actual conversation with him, I deflected. “Well, Vikomt, how do you suggest we get out of this?” I gestured around the cellar. “Now that we know they have a Glava and a Dravilec.”
Something like disappointment darkened Wolfe’s countenance before he seemed to shrug the sentiment away. “I wonder if they have more mages here. I hope they’ve not been …” He threw me a wary look before he continued quietly, “Collecting them.”
My throat worked against the memories, but I refused to drop my gaze. My expression hardened and Wolfe’s eyes blazed with an emotion I couldn’t interpret. Was it anger from the memories of me destroying his family?
“So what do we do?” I murmured, wearily wondering when this uneasy truce between us would end, when Wolfe would finally take his vengeance.
“The only thing we can. I heard our guards talking about festivities this evening. Apparently, you and I are attending. When we’re there, I’ll create a distraction. You have to keep your wits about you, Lady Rogan. Watch me all the time. When I make my move, you make it with me, and we run.”
I blinked, hoping I’d heard wrong. “That’s your big plan? A distraction?”
“Yes. It’s good, right?”
“You’re going to get us killed.”
“Well, since you got us kidnapped in the first place, you’re in no position to judge.”
Chapter 13
I schooled my expression as I was inspected by an older version of Vrik. The man stood by the campfire, shadows of flames flickering across his dark skin, pinpricks of light reflecting in the blackness of his gaze.
Around us the hubbub of noise was now a hushed tide, rising and falling with little bursts of laughter and conversation, as the Iavii enjoyed ale and food around the fire. Wolfe stood beside me in the darkness. We were guarded by Vrik and three other men, but not tied up, not held tight. It was as if, for now, they wanted us to feel less like prisoners and more like guests.
At the sound of a whimper, my attention was drawn to a girl sitting on a log, squashed in the middle of two rough-looking women. One of them grasped her hair, forcing her head back. Tears streamed down her face as one of the women held the dagger she’d been using to cut her apple up to the girl’s eyes. My face tightened in anger at their bullying and the man before me frowned, turning to follow my gaze.
He seemed amused by my reaction and offered me a lazy shrug. “She’s one of the Caels. Her brother was resistant to handing over his land, so we took her as punishment.”
My blood ran cold, crystallizing until I was frozen solid in my anger. “And