Serene swung around the corner of the house and pressed her forehead against the rough brick wall, closing her eyes.

Kildare was in a slave collar.

Bile bubbled in the back of her throat, and she breathed in through her nose, trying to calm herself. She wanted to scream. She’d known it would hurt to see him a prisoner like that, but she hadn’t been prepared for how deep the hurt would go.

Hopefully, she had contained her panic enough that he hadn’t seen it.

Serene forced another slow breath through her nose, then started climbing down the wall. She stopped at the corner of the house and smoothed the silky fabric of her loose trousers, brushing away the fine grit of mortar that had rubbed into the folds. She dabbed at her face, making sure there were no tears, nothing that could be taken as a sign of weakness.

Voices bounced off the stone walls of the square.

Serene pressed her back against the wall, then glanced around the corner. Two men steered Fir toward a set of cages in one corner of the square. Fir was yelling and digging his heels into the cobblestones, despite his hands being chained and a gag over his mouth.

One man suddenly made a fist and slapped Fir across the side of the head. Fir’s head snapped to the side, and he staggered. The man took the opportunity to punch him again, and Fir went limp, nearly falling to the ground.

“Stupid Alfaren,” the man muttered, swinging open the door of one of the cages. “If he’d quit struggling, he’d be fine.”

“Not bright, either one of the guests today,” the other commented. “That drake wasn’t any better.”

“We’d better be glad he already had a slave’s collar, so we didn’t have to try to collar him ourselves.”

They dragged Fir into the cage, chained his arms above his head, and slammed the door behind them.

Serene ducked back out of sight and sank down to her haunches, squeezing handfuls of her trousers in her hands. Her stomach rolled. He’ll be all right. He will be. At least they didn’t beat him up too much.

The front door slammed shut.

Serene stood and brushed her pants clean once more, then swung around the corner of the house. Fir was still unconscious.

Serene rapped on the door.

One of the men from the square swung it open, his jaw clenched. When he spotted her, his eyes widened. “Milady thief. What—”

Serene pushed past him. The foyer was small, bare brick walls and a dirty cobbled floor, with no rugs or furniture beyond a few benches shoved along the walls. The door to the inner part of the house stood open, and without a word to the guard, Serene headed for it.

Eras stepped into view, blocking the door. “Ah, Serene. I should have known you would be the one causing the ruckus.”

Serene stopped, folded her arms across her chest. “I heard Basalt captured another thief.”

Eras laughed and leaned against the doorjamb. “Did you now? And where did you hear that, as we only brought him in an hour or so ago?”

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“Doesn’t matter.” Serene jutted her chin. “I want to know what’s going on. Is he holding trials to replace me?”

“Dear, after all these years, you should know you’re not high up enough in the food chain to demand answers like that.”

“Fine. I’ll ask Basalt myself.” Serene stomped forward.

Eras squared off in front of her. Serene paused a second, pulse racing. She could feel her neck and shoulders knotting, and a headache bloomed across the back of her head. Could she really take on Eras?

I can try to take on anything for Kil. She lowered her shoulder and charged forward.

Eras’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. The taller woman buckled forward a little, gasping as Serene’s shoulder rammed into her chest, but her grip remained strong. Serene grabbed Eras’s shirt sleeves, struggling to drag her to the side. Her feet slid on the dry, dirt-slicked cobbles. Eras pushed her back, step by step.

Serene reached forward and dug her thumb into the woman’s thigh, pressing as hard as she could on a nerve. Eras sucked into a breath, and her leg buckled slightly.

Serene twisted free of one hand and jerked forward.

Big, armored hands closed around her arms, yanking her back from the door. Serene glanced up. The two guards from the square stared down at her, looking surprised, upset, even a bit angry.

Of course they were. Eras’s word was just as much law as Basalt’s, and all the men she trained were fiercely loyal.

Eras leaned against the wall, wincing as she massaged feeling back into her leg. “I’d forgotten I taught you that trick.” Her eyes glittered.

“This isn’t right.” Serene tried to twist her arms free, but the guards weren’t budging. “Eras, if he’s going to replace me, I have a right to kn—”

Eras slapped her.

Serene staggered to the side. Despite the pain on her cheek, the rest of her felt like cold ice was spreading, from her core through her veins. Eras hadn’t slapped her since she was a child and in training. She straightened, but kept her shoulders hunched and her gaze down.

“You’ve overstepped, drake.” Eras’s voice was a sibilant hiss.

Serene nodded, biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Kildare needs me. Kil needs me. But if Eras beat her for overstepping, she wouldn’t be any use to him. It had been years since she’d feared that. She dropped her gaze. “I—I’m sorry, Eras. I’m just worried—”

“About your lover?”

A thrum of fear washed over her skin. Serene frowned. “You mean the man I met in Helryen? How could he—”

Eras slapped her again. “Stop lying to me!” She grabbed Serene’s wrist.

Serene felt sick as she watched the woman use a corner of her cloak to wipe away the makeup covering her unity tattoo. Eras looked at her and smirked.

“Your precious little drake mate,” she said, spitting the words. “How long did you think you could keep it secret from me, Serene? Is that how you planned to get away from us, by whoring yourself out to another drake so he’d rescue you?”

Serene clamped her jaw shut. Arguing and pleading wouldn’t help. Eras wanted to gloat—let her gloat. Maybe once she got it out of her system, she’d let Serene through to see Kildare. Maybe even Basalt. How many more years of service could she bargain for his freedom? What would—

She noticed Eras shaking her head.

“Gods, you really do think you love him,” Eras sneered. “What a blighting waste. The last thing we need is for you to have some drake’s get and be out of commission.”

Serene swallowed.

“But, it does prove useful this once, I suppose.” Eras stepped closer to her. “Your drake slekka was hired by Basalt to retrieve a valuable object. He miserably failed, but Basalt is forgiving.”

Serene snorted.

Eras gripped her chin. “I’d suggest you use your influence with this Kildare to ensure he takes the bargain. Or I will personally escort him onto the slave block myself.”

Serene swallowed. “You’re overestimating the influence I have over him.”

“Am I?” Eras’s gray eyes were hard as she stared at Serene. “I think you both want to save each other. Better start cooperating if you want a chance together.”

“Free?” Serene hated that her voice cracked.

Eras laughed. “Basalt isn’t that forgiving. You should know better than to ask.”

Basalt would never release her from her contract. She felt frail, as if her skin was cracking, as if she was made of old pottery that was crumbling. Kil in a slave collar, forever lost to her...or forever bound to her side. At least then, she’d be guaranteed that he could never leave.

That would kill him just as surely as one of Eras’s knives would.

Serene nodded.

“Smart little drake, for once.” Eras jerked her head at the door. “See her out.”