I gazed at myself in the mirror. My aunt had outdone herself.

The dress was a deep, midnight black, shot through with silver thread, which caught the light. The sleeves of the dress covered most of

my arms in sheer fabric, but most importantly, beneath the skirt, my legs were encased in tight leather breeches that fell to my calves. The front of the dress dipped low enough to show off my necklace—and the tops of my breasts—while distracting from the panels at each side, which hid slits in the fabric. Beneath those slits, I had a knife in a sheath wrapped around each of my thighs.

Erea had put my hair up tonight, using long silver pins to keep it in place. The braids wound across one another in a complicated pattern that had kept her busy while Daselis paced my room.

Erea hadn’t yet agreed to come with us. She’d seemed strangely unconcerned when we told her, and it infuriated Daselis.

“They will kill you,” Daselis hissed.

Erea sat on the edge of my bed and bit into her lower lip. “Surely if I explain, the king will know I had nothing to do with…anything.” She slid me a look that begged me to agree. But I couldn’t lie to her.

I sighed. “He’ll use his truth-seekers, Erea.” And because Daselis had explained the situation to her, if Erea did nothing now, she was just as guilty as us. I shouldn’t have told her anything. I should have known she’d prefer to stay here where she was content with her life.

“You’ve seen what happens in this place,” Daselis said. “It’s worth a little inconvenience for three hundred lives.”

“I could use you,” I said. “We need people to help with the prisoners.

Especially the younger ones.”

Erea lit up at that. “You truly need my help?” “Of course.”

“Enough of this,” Daselis snapped. “You have three choices. Either come with us, don’t come and burn when the truth-seekers tell the king about how you knew what Setella was doing, or tell the king and watch three hundred people burn at dawn.”

Erea’s lower lip trembled. I opened my mouth, but Daselis sent me a fierce look.

Erea got to her feet. “I understand. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” I murmured, guilt and relief warring within me. “Thank you.”

I would make this up to her somehow. When I’d first decided I could free the prisoners, I hadn’t even thought of the women who woke me each morning. Who picked out my dresses and did my hair. Of course they would be targeted by the king. The thought made me nauseated once more.

“Don’t you dare,” Daselis snarled at me. “If I have to slap you to put some color back in your face, I will.”

I stared at her. And burst out laughing. Her lips trembled, but she ruthlessly firmed them.

“Time to meet the queen.”

I followed Daselis to the queen’s chambers, where the other women were gathered. Madinia’s expression was a cold mask of amusement, which she turned on me when I arrived. I was so anxious, my tongue had begun to itch, and she looked calm, relaxed, and haughty as always.

“I like your dress,” she said. The first nice thing she’d ever said to me. She’d have to be careful, or the queen’s ladies would become suspicious just from that.

“Thank you.”

Madinia’s dress was crimson, cut off her shoulders and low enough to bare the top of her breasts. She looked like exactly what she was pretending to be—a confident, beautiful woman without a care in the world.

The queen perused me. “Very nice. My seamstress has always done good work, but she has outdone herself for us tonight.”

Just hearing her talk about my aunt in that proprietary tone made me want to punch her, but I forced myself to smile, bowing my head.

She was wearing a deep-blue gown cut in layers and sparkling with jewels of the same color. Her lips were painted the color of blood, while a diamond and sapphire necklace encircled her neck—matching the crown on her head.

We all filed down to the ballroom. Since the queen enjoyed making an entrance, the ball was already underway. The marble floors had been polished until they gleamed, reflecting the glow of thousands of candles. The king had chosen a forest theme—likely a mockery of the fae and their love of the wild. Ivy draped from the roof in long strands, with maroon and gold baubles hanging from it. The chandeliers reflected off their glassy surfaces, bathing everything in warm light. My hands began to tingle, my heart tripped, my mouth turned dry. This was it.

The music stopped, and everyone bowed to the queen. She made them wait, the hint of a smile on her face. Finally, she nodded, and the dancing resumed once more.

Marth was just foot-spans away, flirting with a courier. Lorian stood to the side, and his eyes met mine, cool and steady. I took a deep breath, and a strange calm filled me.

We could do this.

“Where is His Majesty?” I muttered to Madinia.

“The queen said he’s feeling unwell and will be here later.”

A shiver of apprehension made its way up my spine. I turned to find the king’s assessor watching us walk in, the High Priestess next to him. I gave them a nod, quickly glancing away as something cold and oily settled in my stomach. The king was evil, but the assessors were just as bad. And this assessor—

“There’s Davis,” Madinia announced airily. “We may take a walk in the moonlight later.”

Her tone made it clear what exactly she meant by that. Pelopia sent her a grin. “I do so love the moonlight.”

Lorian was striding toward us. “You look lovely as always, Your Majesty,” he purred, and the queen put her hand in his.

“As do you, Prince Rekja,” she said. “That color suits you.”

While she saw red hair and pale skin, she still wasn’t wrong. Lorian had always suited black.

“You’re too kind.”

The queen merely nodded, slipped her hand from his, and strolled away.

Lorian turned to me.

“Will you dance with me…Setella?”

I nodded, heart in my throat as I took his arm and allowed him to lead me to the center of the ballroom.

“You look delicious.”

“Would you be serious? We’re about to—”

He slid his hand up to the bottom of my ribs, his thumb caressing just beneath my breast. I shivered, and his eyes heated. “So responsive,” he murmured. “I know what we’re about to do. It doesn’t change the fact that I want to strip that dress off you and see what I find beneath it.”

“You’ll find knives,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

His smile was dark—almost feral. “Wicked women are my weakness.” I couldn’t help but grin up at him.

He squeezed my other hand lightly, and his expression turned serious. “Are you ready?”

“Of course.”

I glanced at Madinia, who was smiling coyly at Davis across the ballroom. She murmured something to him, and he took her hand, leading her out of the ballroom and into the gardens outside. Good.

Tibris would be in place near the cellar. Vicer… Gods, I hoped he’d managed to sneak in.

It all came down to this. Everything rested on how well I could hold time stagnant. And for how long.

I sucked in a deep, steadying breath.

And grabbed my power with everything I had.

The music stopped. Everyone froze. Relief flashed through me, but we didn’t have time for me to reflect on it.

Across the room, Marth continued moving, already heading toward the door. Lorian did the same, dragging me with him. But first, he reached out

and unhooked the queen’s necklace with those quick hands. It was around my own neck before I realized he’d moved.

“I believe I owed you jewels,” he said. I just shook my head at him.

Telean stood waiting. When she saw us, her shoulders sank a little in obvious relief. She swept past us into the ballroom, ready to unclasp bracelets and necklaces. To unhook earrings and remove tiaras and diadems. All of which would be tucked into thick, stolen cloaks.

By the time we got to the dungeon entrance, Tibris had already unlocked the door and was gone. Vicer stood next to the unlocked door, handing out keys for the cells. That replication magic again. Lorian and I each took one, Rythos, Cavis, and Galon appearing behind us, expressions grim, eyes alight. Just seeing them all together, ready to help free the hybrids… Something loosened in my chest. We could do this.

I hauled up my dress and shot down the stairs. Already, I could feel my grip on my power loosening slightly. I sucked in a panicked breath and held tighter. I’d trained so hard, again and again, but time wasn’t meant to be stopped. Not even for this.

In the dungeon, the prisoners were already waiting for us to step out of the way so they could begin moving up the stairs. All of them had stopped eating the food they were given days ago and had eaten the food we managed to smuggle down instead. All of them had a healed scar where their oozing, iron-infected wounds had been. Many of them had been pacing their cells in intervals, building up their stamina for this one chance.

Those who were still too weak to move were carried.

Tibris had gone over the plan with the prisoners over and over again. And so we opened each cell in the best possible order to ensure the prisoners got up the stairs as efficiently as they could. By now, Tibris knew each of their names. Knew who would be able to help the others. Knew who could use their powers to create a ball of light to guide their group or who could be counted on to use their gifts to keep their carriages safe from guards.

I held tightly to my magic, but blood began to drip from my nose. Already, my body was rebelling. My throat constricted, but I forced myself to keep holding on. Lorian was convinced I could do this, convinced I had much more magic than I’d ever thought. And it was that hope I clung to as I

grabbed the arm of a young boy, no more than thirteen winters old, and hauled him up the remaining stairs with me.

Daselis stood at the top of those stairs, a young girl with her—obviously her niece. She was helping my aunt, and together they handed each prisoner a cloak with a pocketful of jewelry and gold coins—stolen from the nobles in the ballroom, the bedrooms of the courtiers who lived in the castle, and the room where their cloaks had been stored.

The prisoners wearing little more than rags were given the dresses, shirts, and breeches that Telean had spent the past two days stealing—with Daselis’s help today. As the queen’s seamstress, Telean had unrestrained access to every closet and drawer in the castle.

The prisoners each took a bundle, ready to change once they were in their carriages. Shoes were a problem—but one we’d had no solution to. They’d have to use their coins to buy shoes as soon as they were away from here.

“Pris.” Asinia was suddenly next to me, her eyes glistening. “I wish you could come with us.”

“I’ll be fine. Promise me you’ll be careful.” “I will.”

I glanced at Demos, who was standing behind Asinia, wild anticipation in his eyes. “See you soon,” he said.

“Soon,” I promised, my heart light as Demos grabbed Asinia’s arm, hauling her away.

Asinia would have her life back. And Demos… Demos would get to smell the grass while he gazed at those clouds he loved. We’d watch the sun set together and get to know each other properly. I just had to get through the next part of our plan.

“You did it.” Dashiel grabbed my hand as he reached the top of the stairs behind me. I squeezed his hand back.

“I did the first part. It’s up to all of you to work together for the rest of

it.”

The prisoners were running now, some of them stumbling, a few falling

—only to be hauled up by the others. They moved as a group, splitting off as we’d planned and piling into the carriages that waited. Madinia had done it. She’d managed to convince Davis to let her into that map room, where she’d taken control. Even now, she would be with him. Hopefully, he was

unconscious and she’d already ordered these carriages to go to the city walls.

If he wasn’t unconscious…

No. I would figure that out if it happened. For now, I had to believe Madinia had done her part.

Blood poured from my nose now. So much that it was only a matter of time before I would collapse. If that happened…

It was all over. Lorian took my arm.

“Go,” I told him. “You have to take them and go. Now.”

He didn’t look pleased. His eyes were molten in a face that was set in hard lines. I held up my hand. “Blood vow, remember?”

He cursed, capturing my hand and bringing it to his cheek. “Stay alive.

Just stay alive, Prisca.”

I attempted a smile. “You think I can’t handle it?”

“I know you can handle it. Because I trained you to handle it. That doesn’t mean I won’t wait with my gut in knots until I see you’re still breathing.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then he was handing me a piece of his shirt for my bleeding nose once more. Only this time, I didn’t resent the way his scent engulfed me. No, this time, that familiar, wild scent steadied me in a way that few things could.

We didn’t have time for any more words. With a nod, he was gone. Now it was time for me to do my part. But first…

I darted back into the ballroom. I had to release my grasp on my magic soon, or time would resume with no input from me. And I’d have no power left for my own desperate retreat from the castle.

But the king’s assessor? This was personal.

He stood just foot-spans away. I smiled, stalking up behind him. And then I released him, allowing him to know a tiny hint of the confusion and terror that his victims had felt.

He stiffened, but I was already swinging my blade. My knife sank into his side, and he screamed. “This is for Ardaric,” I hissed. “And his parents.” I ripped the knife free and stabbed again. “This is for Thayer and

Dashiel.”

He fell to his knees, and I dropped with him.

“And this? This is for everyone else you murdered.” I slashed my knife over his throat, something in me awakening at the sound of his gurgles.

Something vicious and deadly.

Something that craved the blood of my enemies.

Prisca would owe me for this. Not only was I on horseback, along with Rythos, Marth, Galon, and Cavis—all of us killing anyone who attempted to stop the carriages from reaching the city walls—but behind me, Tibris and Demos bickered relentlessly on the horses Marth had stolen for them. I should have locked them in a carriage together.

“You seriously think Prisca’s going to stay in the city?” Demos laughed. “I think I know her better than you,” Tibris ground out. “She won’t

leave. Not while there are other hybrids needing help.”

Demos went quiet. “Then you should be convincing her to leave. She needs to stay safe.”

I shook my head, barely restraining myself from informing the two idiots behind me that Prisca wasn’t going with either of them.

I was taking her with me.

“What makes you think we can’t keep her safe here?” Tibris asked.

I caught Galon rolling his eyes at that. Meanwhile, Demos had lowered his voice, although I could still hear every word.

“Are you insane? Prisca will be hunted night and day. You know why? Because not only is she the only one who has ever managed to humiliate the king, but she’s also the heir to the hybrid kingdom.”

My hands tightened on the reins, and I fought to keep my face blank.

The heir to the hybrid kingdom.

She didn’t know.

But my brother must have known. The way he had insisted on learning about her magic…

Some magic was hereditary.

He had known, and he hadn’t told me.

Tibris didn’t say a word. Likely, he was too stunned to speak.

I should have turned those bitches to rubble when I had the chance.