Some people in the world had split-second reflexes.

Jeremiah Morgan turned out to be one of them.

No sooner had the guard aimed the gun than Jeremiah lashed a hand out to chop the man’s arm.

The gun fired. The bullet missed.

Elias ducked, his body acting on instinct.

Chaos broke out among the men; the guard who’d fired the weapon was taken down with brute force, his gun stripped away. Leander, who had tried to throw himself between a bullet and Elias, barked orders for the men to take the traitor back to the family seat for questioning.

Mattias worriedly checked Elias over for new injuries.

“I’m fine, I’m all right,” Elias assured Mattias. He didn’t think twice about the throb of a headache behind his eyes or the ache in his wrist.

“I should have realized that if the men weren’t waiting here inside the ruins, that there was a killer among the ranks,” Leander said, sounding disgusted with himself.

“That was a big leap to make,” Mattias replied. “None of us came to the right conclusion in time.”

“I knew I was overlooking something, but I wouldn’t have guessed the enemy was hiding in plain sight.” Elias watched the guards escort the would-be assassin away.

To say it had been a close call was understating things.

“All of us missed it,” Mattias said. “Even your old self probably wouldn’t have come to the right conclusion in time.”

Elias couldn’t disagree. “Any news on Sander?”

“Not yet. Let’s get back to the castle. Maybe Erick and Eliana will have broken through with interrogations by then.” Mattias led the way across the clearing.

Elias fell into step at his uncle’s flank. He was a mess of conflicting emotions.

Halfway across the clearing to the tree line, Mattias received a call. Elias understood immediately that the news was not good.

Mattias faced the group. “Erick has discovered where they are keeping Dare. The guard said that word had gone out just before we began our operation here at Macor. Orders were given to kill the king of Latvala in an old barn just west of our location. It’s possible we’ll arrive to find him already dead.”

Elias sat behind Mattias as the SUV made its way over a rough, bumpy road. Leander was beside him, silent and brooding.

He understood the silence and brooding well.

Ever since Mattias’s grim announcement, Elias had been a pit of anxiety and despair. He could not fathom that Sander might be dead, couldn’t imagine what his life would be like if he regained his memory months after the fact.

He wished he knew more about Sander’s habits and skills so that he might feel better about the possibility of arriving to find the man alive. Elias refused to give up all hope because the alternative was too devastating.

As the sun crested the horizon, casting peach and orange rays into a dark blue-gray sky, the caravan of SUVs arrived at the property. A column of black smoke rose above the treetops in the distance and, for a reason Elias did not want to contemplate, his blood ran cold. That smoke was the most ominous thing about the entire day, even surpassing his brief stare into the barrel of a gun. And he knew by Mattias and Leander’s stunned expressions that it was ominous for them, too.

“Drive to the fire,” Mattias ordered the man behind the wheel.

The SUV sped down a dirt drive that was little better than the bumpy road had been, blew past a dilapidated two-story farmhouse, and veered in the direction of a structure that had once been a barn.

It was a smoking ruin, the roof half collapsed, the walls crumbling down. Scorched shards of wood sat at odd angles like the decaying silhouette of razor-sharp teeth.

But it was the charred outline of a man on the ground that snagged and held Elias’s attention. He saw the body before the SUV came to a sliding stop. It appeared the person had attempted to flee the structure but had already been on fire and succumbed to the flames two steps past the doors. One outstretched arm seemed to reach for sanctuary, the burnt fingers curled into claws.

A squeezing sensation gripped Elias’s chest and cut off his air.

No.

That couldn’t be Sander.

Mattias all but flew from the SUV, shouting Dare’s name.

Leander erupted from the back seat, chanting, “No, no, no!”

Two more SUVs skidded to a stop behind theirs and men poured out. Mattias shouted orders to anyone and everyone.

Elias couldn’t seem to move. He stared out the window, gaze locked on the burn victim. The shape looked too big and broad to be a woman, even in its black, withered condition. He couldn’t tell what kind of clothing the man had worn, what color the hair, nor any other identifying clue. Which was what made the entire scene so agonizing. Knowing Sander’s death had been ordered, and that he’d been kept in a barn, did not help combat the fear that the victim was indeed the king of Latvala.

“Hey, man. You okay? I know this is rough,” Jeremiah said from the back seat. He climbed forward until he sat next to Elias.

Elias didn’t know what to say. Just a few days ago he’d not wanted to see any of his family again. Now here he was, faced with the possibility that the man who had given him life was lying ten yards away burnt to a crisp. The situation was the cruelest of ironies. Worse, Elias couldn’t grieve the way a son with normal memories would. There was still that damnable distance, the undeniable detachment. Yes, he’d begun to care for Sander, but it just wasn’t the same.

He dreaded to think of his reaction when he did remember his past and all the knowledge that would come rushing back of this horrible time.

“No. I’m not all right,” Elias said.

He wasn’t sure anything would ever be all right again.