After I split from the group and started advancing through Draconis, I took a couple of moments to get a better idea of the city itself. In my invisible form, I walked through the prison citadel, keeping to the more obscure corners of each street, exploring the alleyways, and catching snippets of conversations between daemon guards.

I steered clear of those I spotted red lenses on, but I could still hear their dismay. Most of them were beginning to sound worried about our presence. They also knew that Cayn and his grunts had failed to catch us once more and thought we were long gone. We’d run off with one of the Druids they’d been holding hostage for thousands of years, after all. That, in the eyes of many, from the bottom to the very top of the daemonic hierarchy, qualified as a colossal failure on their part.

There weren’t that many grunts out. I assumed that many were still searching for us around Kerentrith.

“They’ve sent Death Claws out to look for them,” one daemon said to his companion. “I heard the outsiders are incredibly fast, and they have the dragon with them. They can send a thousand Death Claws if they want. They’re useless out in the open against a dragon.”

“I’m telling you, one more failure on Prince Cayn’s part, and King Shaytan will slit his gullet with no regret,” the other replied.

If only. I left them behind and headed for Zane’s meranium cell box, gripping one of the three charmed skeleton keys in my hand. It was about time we got some inside knowledge from these creatures. Thankfully, despite his imprisonment and the torture of having his soul munched on, Laughlan was, by far, our greatest accomplishment on Neraka. For too long the Exiled Maras and daemons had gotten away with this bloody circus. It was about time we put an end to it, and leaving them without their most powerful supernatural prisoners was the best way to cripple them.

I made my way through the maze of private prison boxes, wishing I could just open each and every one of them. But I couldn’t make a scene. Not yet, anyway. Discretion was key for what I was about to do.

Zane’s cell was guarded by a single guard. He was larger than most, though. I had a feeling he’d be quite the handful in close combat. Looking back on my first encounters with the daemons, I remembered the crippling fear that had frozen the very blood in my veins whenever I caught a glimpse of their red eyes. I remembered gasping at the sight of the deep gashes that their claws left behind. They were vicious, strong, and fast. But they weren’t unbeatable. It had taken us a little while to figure that out.

After multiple encounters, however, the fear I’d first felt had subsided, and I was left with the concept of a hostile. They were all creatures that bled and died, just like the others. I still had my natural advantage there. Considering my strength, I could certainly hold my own, even against a larger daemon. I’d seen what their behemoth-sized generals could do, too. They were all force, though, and little skill. It seemed like the bigger they got, the more fatal their blows but the slower their moves.

The one standing outside Zane’s cell was most likely somewhere in between and required a stealthier approach. I slipped the key in my back pocket and snuck around the back of the box. Light on my feet, I held my breath as I approached the guard from the back. His muscular frame was wrapped in thick leather, with metal plates covering his shoulders, chest, arms, and calves. Going for his sides would’ve injured him, but I needed him completely disabled.

I looked around. The narrow alleyway was clear, except for two guards who passed down the perpendicular road to our right. One of them was wearing a red lens. I took a couple of steps back to get out of sight and waited for them to pass. Once the coast was clear, I dashed forward and jumped on the daemon guard’s back. With one swift move, I slit his throat with one of my long knives and pulled him back.

He choked, blood gurgled from his open throat, and his knees gave out quickly. He didn’t even get a chance to fight. I dragged his body behind the meranium box and wiped my bloody blade on his leather tunic. It would be a while before someone found him there.

I sheathed my sword, went back to the front, and froze. A second daemon had just turned a corner—the changing of the guards. I moved back, giving the fiend some time to notice the fresh blood on the ground, then frown and look around. I clicked my teeth and lured him to the back, but stood still as he walked between the meranium boxes.

He heard my sword screeching as it left its sheath but didn’t get a chance to draw his. He caught a glimpse of my eyes as I rushed forward and rammed my blade upward through his neck and skull. His bones crunched, my sword piercing through the back of his head. I welcomed the zing of metal scratching against bone as I withdrew my weapon and slipped it back in its scabbard. Not that it came as a surprise, but I was still impressed by how little I was holding back in my bid to free Zane.

The daemon collapsed with a thud. I dropped his body on top of his colleague, behind the cell. I ran back to the front and used the skeleton key to let myself in. It worked smoothly. One twist, and the lock clicked open. I went in and quickly locked the door behind me.

Zane sat up in his bed, narrowing his eyes at me. He couldn’t see me, but he knew someone was there, as the air trembled discreetly whenever I moved. My heart thudded at the sight of him. Stockholm Syndrome or not, Zane took my breath away. It wasn’t just his impressive physique or his handsome face and piercing red eyes. It was his character, his choice to help me and my friends over his kingdom. He’d gotten himself imprisoned for it.

“It didn’t take you long, Fiona,” Zane said, a grin stretching his lips. He lay back, supporting his weight on his elbows.

I scoffed, then grabbed a pitcher of water from a small table nearby to reveal myself. Draconis was naturally hot, due to its surrounding lava lakes, so I welcomed the cool liquid pouring over me. Zane’s gaze darkened as I came into full view.

“How did you know it was me?” I asked, setting the pitcher back on the table.

“I knew you’d be the one coming back for me,” he replied. “You can’t deny this thing between us anymore, Fiona. You and I… We both feel it.”

I rolled my eyes, then crossed my arms in an attempt to look cool and reserved. There was absolutely no reason for me to prove him right. At least, not as far as my ego was concerned. There wasn’t much of it, but Zane had this way of making me want to stand tall and not let myself be intimidated. It was something I both appreciated and disliked at the same time.

“Don’t be foolish. I’m only here to help an ally,” I retorted.

He smirked, then darted out of bed and reached me in a split second. I had barely registered the movement before he pushed me against the door and—kissed me. My brain stopped functioning altogether. His mouth claimed mine, and it lit devastating fires inside me. He caught me off guard, his tongue working mine. I lost my breath.

His hands cupped my face, holding my head at a slight angle, as he deepened the kiss—hungry, passionate, and determined. I had absolutely no reaction, other than my pulse quickening and my stomach tightening under his grip. His broad frame cast a dark, heavy shadow over me, making me feel tiny and deliciously helpless, as his lips massaged mine.

He pulled back suddenly, his red eyes flaring like two suns at dusk, and smiled. It took me a couple of seconds to react. I punched him in the shoulder, though not as hard as I normally would’ve, had it been anyone else trying that move on me. My cheeks burned. I was flustered and panting, as he chuckled and stood his ground.

Zane towered over me, but I held my chin high. “You didn’t even try to make me feel that,” he said, his voice low and spine-tingly.

“I told you not to be foolish,” I replied. “I did warn you.”

He shook his head slowly, the two inches of space between us compressing. The air thickened around us, supercharged to the point where I could almost hear the crackles of electricity. My breath got stuck in my throat when he smiled again.

“When will you stop lying to me, Fiona? Or, better yet, when will you stop lying to yourself?”

“You’re confusing my attempt to help you with something that isn’t—”

He didn’t let me finish. He kissed me again, and the ground spun beneath me. This time, however, he wasn’t possessive, though it felt even more intense than before. No, this time he was tender, his lips soft against mine, while his hands gently gripped my waist and pulled me in to him.

I melted like butter in a perfectly heated pan. Zane tasted like figs and spices, throwing my senses into utter disarray. I felt soft against his rock-hard torso as he wrapped his arms around my body and tightened his hold on me. He was so tender and yet all-consuming. It was enough to fully disarm me.

Who was I kidding?

I parted my lips and welcomed him, giving in to everything he caused me to feel—the rush, the head-spinning dazzle, the liquid heat pouring through my veins. I welcomed it all and more, as I rested my palms on his muscular chest, my fingers digging into the thin leather layer of his princely tunic.

He groaned softly and took the kiss to a whole new level, holding me so tight that the prospect of being crushed against his body flickered in my mind—for only a splinter of a moment, before I surrendered and responded to his deepening kiss with equal desire. This wasn’t just something that I longed to get used to. It was something that opened me up to the entire universe. I could see stars through my closed eyes.

Zane’s hot breath tickled my face, warming my body as he lifted his head to look at me.

“Do you agree with me now, Fiona?” he asked softly.

Every fiber of me wanted to say yes. To shout it from the rooftops, if given the chance. But I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Not yet, anyway. After how he’d played with me, with his swamp witch powders and downright predatory stalking, Zane deserved to be kept on his toes. I may be small in comparison, but I can give you a good run for your money.

“Get over yourself,” I replied. “I only gave in so you’d shut up.”

He raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twisting into a playful smile. “Still playing hard to get, then? That’s fine. I love a good game of cat and mouse.”

“I think we need to focus on the more important stuff, like getting your royal ass out of here,” I shot back with a grin.

His gaze dropped to my lips, his eyes catching a dark crimson hue. “You really are blissfully unaware of the effect you have on me, huh?”

I scoffed, then motioned at myself. “Sorry, Your Royal Highness, but I can’t turn this off.”

He chuckled softly, then hid his face in the small space between my neck and shoulder, breathing me in. His lips tickled my overly sensitive skin. I instinctively arched my back, and his arms constricted around my waist.

“Nope, clearly you cannot,” he muttered, lifting his head to face me. His gaze softened, and he gave me the single sweetest smile I’d ever seen, especially coming from a daemon. “I am glad you’re the one who came for me, though. Thank you, Fiona, for doing this.”

I stifled a grin. “Well, you know, I couldn’t just sit back and leave a damsel in distress.”

Zane laughed wholeheartedly this time, throwing his head back. I took a moment to watch him, his long black hair braided back with gold thread, his twisted horns dressed in an intricate gold pattern with tiny red gemstones sprinkled around the curves, the blade of his nose and his incandescent red eyes, his soft, tanned skin and slightly reddened lips…

I was in so, so much trouble.

And, dammit, I wouldn’t have it any other way.