Belle was actually happy to have these metal bars between her and Jac’s fury. She had to resist shrinking back into the safety of the Darkness inside her little cell when Jac stomped to a stop on the other side of the bars.

Lip curled, eyes blazing, Jac spoke in a harsh whisper, as if that would keep the small group behind her from hearing. “Daivad fucking Earthbreaker, Nyxabella? Has every last drop of sense drained from your damn head?”

Belle whispered back, “I told you not to come with me!”

“And let you go alone to Mother-forsaken Urden—”

“I’d have lived—”

“—to meet the Mother-forsaken Night Prince? The fucking Rebel Beast—?”

“—chasing rumors, not expectations to actually find hi—”

“—your plan once you found—?”

“—really didn’t think the first tavern—”

“—gonna show him your big, round, ‘rescue me’ eyes and—”

“The Dark Mother must have lead me—”

“Lead you right to a fucking cell!”

“Listen, I’d actually name it Cozy in—”

One member of their audience, a man with long, wet, black hair and beautiful, messy magic tried to track their rapid-fire exchange, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

When Daivad saw no signs of them losing any steam, he interjected, “Enough.”

Belle and Jac both quieted, but held each other’s gaze. Belle had her head ducked sheepishly, peering through some stray curls up at Jac and her clenched jaw. She knew it would be best to wait until Jac had calmed down a little more to ask, but the worry churning in her belly finally crawled up her throat and Belle blurted, “Is Clarix okay?”

“Is Clar—?” Jac threw up her hands, exasperated. “You ask after that monster before you ask after me?”

“I can’t name a stronger woman than you, but Clarix is so timid, and I can see from your magic that you’re—”

“I just ran through fucking Silvax Forest at night to save your ass—”

“I know and I name you the best, most beautiful, most badass, most amazing—”

“Just ‘cause I love you, doesn’t mean I won’t kick your—!”

“Enough!” Daivad repeated, then pointed at Jac. “You. How did you find this place?”

Belle grinned at him. “Didn’t I promise she would?”

The full weight of Jac’s glare snapped from Belle to Daivad, and she let silence emphasize it for a moment before saying, “I’m not gifting anyone any words ‘til you open this gate and let her free.”

The long-haired man gave a soft, “Oh, shit,” and looked at Daivad with an eager quirk to his brows.

Belle’s attention was snagged again by the man’s magic. It was absolute, beautiful, heartbreaking Chaos, a thousand swirling colors and textures tearing itself apart. It was strange to watch how his magic interacted with the midnight sky that was Daivad’s magic. Though Daivad’s was carefully controlled and contained and this new magic was anything but, there was a familiarity between them, the way they moved together…

A sharp remark from Jac pulled Belle back to the scene before her.

“Jac,” Belle said gently, tugging Jac’s attention back to her. With a pointed look to Jac, and a nod toward Daivad, Belle said, “He’s alright.”

Daivad’s expression was blank when he looked at Belle’s face peeking through the bars, but there was a ripple through that midnight sky magic that made the streams of stars dance.

Jac looked from Belle, to Daivad, and back to Belle, eyes narrowed. Belle nodded.

With an enormous sigh, Jac folded her arms across her chest, fully displaying all their rippling muscles, and shot Daivad her signature Unimpressed look.

“I trailed a monster. Guess it trailed her scent.” Jac shrugged.

“Ah, yeah,” the long-haired man said, suddenly. “That thing scampered when Jac here started swinging. Not the bravest beast.”

“Wait,” worry wormed itself into Belle’s tone, “she’s lost? Alone?”

“She?” the man asked.

“Name her Clarix,” Belle explained quickly. “Was she hurt?”

“Tired, not hurt.” Jac hesitated, then shot the man a look. “Those dogs of yours won’t bother her?”

The man drew an offended hand to his bare, bruised chest and said, “Dogs?”

Daivad simply said, “Their interest is only in beasts that stray too close to camp.”

“But if she follows her nose to this cell?” Belle asked, gripping the bars.

Daivad was silent.

The man was still gaping at Jac. “Dogs?”

“She’s no threat,” Belle pleaded with Daivad. “That man even robbed her of her claws. You can tell Maxea she’s no threat.”

Rolling her eyes, Jac mumbled. “Mother Light.”

“I don’t protect nightbeasts,” Daivad told the wall of her cell.

The scene played in Belle’s mind, unbidden. Clarix, trembling with fear both for herself and for Belle, alone, exhausted, abandoned in a strange forest with daylight breaking around her, stripping her of her monster senses and leaving her even more defenseless. The beast had tried so hard to help a human she’d just met, but now who was going to help her?

“Ay, ay,” the long-haired man said, pulling Belle back to reality with a gentle smile. She noticed for the first time the charm dangling against his chest, carved into the shape of a violin. He said, “You’re too pretty to let fear wrinkle your forehead like that. I’ll put Kunin on her scent and have him patrol camp. A stink that strong, he couldn’t mistake it. He’ll keep her out, but won’t hurt her.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Belle’s eyes darted around, searching his magic for any hint he was lying—as Chaotic as it was, she couldn’t be positive, but she did see a vein that leaked what looked like genuine concern, so she said a breathless, “Thank you.”

He winked at her and she smiled back.

“Kunin,” she asked, “is he the russet-colored Wolf?”

“Nah, that’s Ben’s Wolf, Drauge.” The man hooked a thumb toward one of the figures behind him, then puffed out a proud-if-purpling chest when he added, “Kunin’s my silver boy. Prettiest beast to walk the Mothers’ Earth.”

“A silver Great Wolf?” Belle was awed.

Jac pinched the bridge of her nose.

“With eyes of brightest blue. Should I introduce you?”

“Yes!”

The man brought his thumb and fore-finger to his lips—

“Tobei,” Daivad growled. “You’re on duty.”

“But—”

Daivad turned sharply and Tobei jumped back, one hand clamped over his ear like he expected Daivad to grab it.

“Alright, alright,” Tobei said. When he’d put some distance between him and Daivad, flashed a grin back at Belle and said, “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll tell Kunin she’s no threat.”

“Mother Dark bless you. Tobei, yeah? I’m Nyxabella, but everyone names me Belle.”

“Lovely to meet—”

“Now, Tobei.”

He gave Belle an apologetic shrug, sent Jac another wink, and left. And Belle didn’t miss the way Jac’s eyes lingered on his ass, nor the way she wouldn’t meet Belle’s gaze once he was gone.

“You,” Daivad said, ice-blue eyes on Jac. “I want to talk to you.”

Jac shot back, “Can’t claim the same.”

The redhead who had been in Urden with Daivad last night—someone had called her Lenna—stepped forward and hissed, “Watch your tone!”

One of Jac’s eyebrows quirked as she gave Lenna a once-over.

Daivad held up a hand and the redhead retreated, her eyes on Daivad’s face, expectant. She seemed disappointed with whatever she found there. Maybe frustrated was a better word.

“You showed up here swinging,” Daivad started, eyes narrowed at Jac. “You scared my people. You wrecked part of my camp.”

Jac gave an unapologetic shrug. “You kidnapped my friend.”

“I’m not kidnapped,” Belle chimed in.

They both ignored her.

Daivad drew himself to his full, utterly unreasonable height and let his magic crash over Jac. “You’ll answer my questions or you’ll join her in there.”

But Jac withstood the wave, unshaken. She made a show of considering the enormous tree stump, the heavy metal bars that Belle had climbed up in order to watch the scene better. With another shrug, Jac said, “Fine.”

The man who’d ridden the russet wolf, Tobei had called him Ben, looked at Daivad, his magic tugging Daivad’s attention toward him. In a quiet, deep tone, he said, “Those bars can’t hold her, hammer or no.”

“Oh, hey,” Belle said to Jac. “Where is your hammer?”

Meanwhile, across camp:

A red-faced Ori gripped the handle of the hammer yet again and threw all his weight backwards, digging his heels in and yanking with all his might. Tash, his eleven-year-old sister, leaned against a nearby root, smirking as Ori huffed and puffed and dragged the hammer along.

“That lady swung it around like nothin’,” Tash said, popping a dried berry into her mouth. “You can’t even get it to part with the ground?”

Ori cut eyes at her but said nothing. He made it a few yards, the hammer leaving a trail of ripped up grass behind it, before he had to take another break.

“Might as well leave it,” Tash said through a mouthful of food. “S’not exactly at risk of getting stole.”

“Stolen,” he corrected her, panting. “And I’ve got orders.”

“At this rate, night will fall before you make it to the armory.”

Ori flipped her off before gripping the handle once more and bracing himself.

Tash giggled and skipped away, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll tell Doll you’ll be late for dinner!”

Back at the pen:

Jac jerked her head in Daivad’s direction and told Belle, “Doubt it’s traveled far from where he left it.”

Then she ducked toward Belle, resting her forehead against the bars. Her lowered voice was still useless—they could all hear her, “How sure?”

Belle didn’t have to know exactly what Jac meant to know what she was asking. She looked up at Daivad’s narrowed eyes, saw his magic shift at her attention.

“The Dark Mother guided me here,” was her answer.

Jac chewed on Belle’s words for a few seconds, then drew in a long, deep breath. Her magic seemed to settle finally. She asked, “Are we staying?”

A smile bloomed on Belle’s face and she lifted herself on her tippy-toes on the bars. Jac was officially on board. “Not yet.”

“I decide that,” Daivad growled.

Jac’s golden magic stirred alongside Belle’s, excited. Jac straightened and rolled her rippling shoulders, and the exhaustion that had weighed on her a moment before evaporated. She said, “‘Bout time we put up a fight.”

Belle turned her grin on Daivad. “You know she’s right.”

Lenna’s magic, which had been building to a boil ever since she’d shown up, finally boiled over so intensely Belle actually had to pull back from the bars a bit. No one else seemed to feel the heat, least of all the one person Lenna was most focused on: Daivad. The less he reacted, the brighter her magic burned.

“Come with me,” Daivad ordered Jac.

Jac looked at Belle, who stuck a hand through the bars and held up her pinky finger. “He’s alright. Pinky promise.”

Jac hooked her own pinky with Belle’s, then looked at Daivad. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”

A chill knifed through the air, bleeding the heat from it instantly and sending shivers through Belle. This time everyone tensed, even those who couldn’t see Daivad’s magic turn dangerous. Still, Jac held his gaze.

He growled, “Don’t name me that,” and left without waiting to see if Jac followed.

“Don’t be rude,” Belle whispered as Jac trailed after him.

“Can’t pinky promise to that.”

Belle was left with Ben and Lenna standing before her cell. Lenna’s magic still simmering, though Daivad’s reaction had cooled it a bit. Meanwhile, Ben was wrapped in tendrils of earth-toned magic that smelled of flowers and dew. The staff he held had little buds growing from its head, and within his dreadlocks hung a charm just like Daivad’s and Tobei’s, though Ben’s was carved into the likeness of a tree. A nature magic practitioner if Belle had ever seen one, with chocolate eyes to match his Wolf’s. She smiled at him.

“Your friend, the Wolf,” Belle said, pressing her forehead into the bars. “Tobei named him Drauge?”

He looked at her. “Why?”

“I’ve never met a Great Wolf so friendly,” Belle said brightly. “Just wanted to make sure I’ve got the right name to go with those kind eyes of his.”

After a moment, he nodded.

“Drauge,” she repeated slowly. “Beautiful. What does it mean?”

Lenna tried to catch Ben’s gaze to share a derisive glance with him at Belle’s expense, but he didn’t return it. He simply shrugged.

“I’ll guard her,” Lenna cut in, her magic stirring once again.

Inscrutable, Ben nodded and left without another word, and then Belle and this hostile woman were alone.

Anxiety curdled Belle’s magic, deep in her belly. Utterly familiar. Lenna’s magic spelled volatility, and that was nothing new to Belle.

“Name yourself,” Belle tried to sound as friendly as she could.

“My name’s no business of yours.”

“Oh.” Blink. “Alright.”

And Belle retreated into the cell to settle back onto her cot.

But she couldn’t settle, not with Lenna just on the other side of the bars. Though her words had been dismissive, her magic was aggressive, and it seeped through the bars, searching for … something. It reminded her of Richard’s magic on his bad days. Which were most days. The sick curdling in Belle’s magic grew, but she just breathed in the Darkness of this safe little cell. It was clear Lenna was a practitioner of one of the magics Belle feared most, but the redhead certainly couldn’t practice Metalwork, so she couldn’t get past those bars. Belle was safe in here.

Still. At the base of her skull, Belle felt an urge awaken and wiggle its way into her brain. To crawl under the cot and hide behind the bedroll. Hide from both the breaking dawn and the practitioner just outside those bars. Because bars wouldn’t stop manipulation magic.

But Belle stayed where she was, even as the urge continued to wiggle away. Lenna wasn’t the only one skilled at that wicked magic.