"Are you sure, Jayln? It'll cost us resources and it might not be worth—"

"I appreciate your concern, but if my father's suspicions are right, killing them won't end anything."

Fenrin's head hurt as he tried to register the voices speaking. The ringing stopped just in time for his stomach to backflip and he rolled over and vomited, coughing through the sick.

"Ah...he's up." It was the second voice, a woman's.

Fenrin looked around. He was in a small room, iron bars separating him from the other two people. The man who'd kicked Tyrik and the auburn haired woman—Jayln.

Wiping his mouth, Fenrin sat up to face her. His leg was bandaged but the sharp pain there told him he hadn't been out long. His shoulder didn't hurt much, they must've popped it back into place. That should have woken him up, he mused, they must've drugged him.

The other man nodded at Jayln and left through the only door, roughly seven feet from the cell wall. When he opened it, the last rays of sunlight trickled in.

So, it had only been around six hours…

Fenrin licked his lips and turned his gaze to Jayln. She met his eyes and they stared at each other, sizing each other up. Fenrin took this pause to examine his own strength.

He was tired, groggy, and wasn't sure his injured leg would hold him, but given any opportunity he would gut every person in this village. No one caged Fenrin Brynson. His bloodlust must've shown on his face because the woman grimaced.

"Am I right in believing you are Fenrin the Wolf?"

Fenrin chuckled. "So you know who I am? Then you're either brave or stupid to have kept me alive."

Jaylin didn't blink. "Six men. We have six of your men and you. Seven lives we could have taken but didn't. I am Jayln and I will be handling negotiations."

A deep throated, wild laugh rebounded through the cell before Fenrin grit his teeth, stood, and moved the cell wall, gripping the bars. He grinned dangerously at Jayln. "A rabbit does not negotiate with a wolf. Kill me now or I swear I'll slaughter every soul in this village and skin you alive."

Jayln took another deep breath then shook her head. "I will not talk with a wolf. When you've decided to start being a man, I'll come back."

She turned to walk towards the door, Fenrin screamed obscenities at her, describing the brutal ways he would eviscerate her and her loved ones. The door closed silently to cut off his threats.

No one came back in for two days. Or at least what Fenrin guessed was two days from the small crack in the door that sunlight occasionally showed through. His mouth was glued shut with thirst and his body heavy with pain and hunger, objecting to not recieving the energy it needed to heal his wound. His mind grew tired, its whirling of violent thoughts no longer having energy to sustain itself. So Fenrin started to think.

He would die here if he was not careful. It would be anti-climatic and embarrassing—Lyra would love it. He growled at that thought.

If he spoke to Jayln, he could wait for the right time to break free. If he took too long, Lyra would send someone looking for him and if she rescued him...well he would rather die than owe his sister his life. Then again, she might not come after him at all. The future queen of Valhym might prefer her brother to fade from existence, disappearing into the northern wilds.

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Sighing, Fenrin knew that wouldn't work, Lyra was too careful. She wouldn't write him off until she saw his body with her own eyes and despite their differences, she'd kill the villagers in his name before burning his body and forgetting him. The idea of his sister slaughtering the auburn haired bitch and her peasants was a satisfying thought, but it would still be embarrassing.

No, the best option would be to escape before his sister came looking for him. It was time to talk to Jayln. So he waited, sure she would return before he starved.

He smelled the food before he heard the door open. His stomach letting out a weak moan. Cracking one eye open, he watched Jayln walk in, a bowl of soup in one hand and a waterskin in her other. She tossed the waterskin into the cell and sat down on the single wooden chair to watch him. He didn't move.

"It drugged?"

Jayln snorted at the question. "Don't insult me. You already know it isn't."

Fenrin reached for the water and quickly drank half of it. It was true, he knew she wouldn't drug him if she wanted to talk but he’d started assuming every offered drink was poisoned a long time ago. He wiped his mouth and guestured. "That soup for me too?"

"Depends on whether we can come to an agreement or not."

"Alright, give me the soup and I'll kill you quickly."

Jayln lifted a spoonful of the aromatic soup and popped it in her mouth, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me, what are you and your people doing this far north of Valhym?"

"Expanding our territory."

"Really?" Jayln seemed surprised. "Have you already taken all of Valhym? I thought we would have heard if the High King had fallen to brigands. Or did the king scare you off?"

Fenrin growled, thinking of the pathetic king. "The king is no threat to me. He's not even worth gutting."

"Then why here?"

"The weather's nicer."

He gave her a wicked grin and she frowned, taking another bite of soup almost absently, although Fenrin noted every drop.

"You said our territory. Is that you and your men, or were you referring to the Bear."

Jayln watched as a strange range of emotion played on Fenrin's face at that question. His eyes flashed dangerously and his lip curled back as her smile faltered. "We really are far from Valhym. The Bear is dead. He has been for over a year."

"Oh? I guess the rumors of his unparalleled strength were false then."

Fenrin took another swallow of water, unhappy with where this conversation was going. His family was the last thing he wanted to talk about. "The rumors don't do him justice, but everyone gets old." He leaned forward, looking at the soup pointedly. "This conversation is boring me."

Jayln looked down at the bowl. "Ah, yes, now that I know you are capable of having a conversation with, I'll be back to chat."

She placed the bowl on the floor just out of his reach before taking a stick he hadn't seen from behind the chair and using it to push the bowl up to his cell.

He rolled his eyes and took it, but was actually disappointed. He'd hoped she would have been careless enough to get close enough to grab. One more step and he would have had her. He smiled as he ate the warm soup, imaging how satisfying breaking her neck would have been. Jayln left without another word.

Fenrin eventually grew tired of imagining her death and began to mull over their conversation. What had Jayln been after? Why keep him alive?

As he licked the bowl clean, it came to him. They were worried if they killed him, someone would have vengeance. He'd told them his father was dead and wouldn't be coming. Stupid. He tossed the bowl out of the cell.

He stretched out on the floor. Lyra would have known what to say; she was good at these mind games. The soup was uncomfortable in his empty stomach and he frowned. Even if Byrn had been alive, Fenrin wouldn't have wanted his rescue. He'd lived in the big man's shadow for too long and would rather the world know he was on his own.

“And look how well you've done without Daddy's help.” He could picture Lyra's mocking voice perfectly. “Beaten and caged like a dog. You might as well put yourself out of your misery. Admit it, Fen, you never were at our level.”

Fenrin stood and began limping around his cell, using the motion to drown out his sister's voice. Trying to focus instead on escape and the murders that would follow it. But after hours of thinking, he was no closer than before. The cell was solidly built, a sign this town had been around for a long time. In truth, he knew almost nothing about this area and its people.

Lyra would have done more research before attacking. Bryn wouldn't have had to. The night was sleepless as Fenrin was unable to escape his demons or his cell.