Lyre sat on the sleek black car’s hood, elbows braced on his knees, chin resting on his hand. He stared at the spot where Clio had disappeared into the trees, wondering why he felt so damn cold.

She hadn’t looked back. Should that bother him? It kind of bothered him.

He rubbed his face, pulling himself together. Since the moment his father and brother had appeared, he’d felt like he was cracking apart at the seams, his emotions churning in a sickening mess of fear, dread, loathing, and shame.

The last one surprised him. Was he ashamed of his fear? Or was he ashamed for … betraying his family?

It never ended, did it? No matter how much he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, that he hadn’t cared for years, part of him still wanted to make his father proud. But even before developing a defiant streak in his youth, he’d never earned a single word of praise from Lyceus. As a child, he’d been the slowest learner of his siblings. Dulcet, younger by two seasons, had surpassed Lyre quickly.

He squinted at the black sky. His sluggish progression through the apprenticeship curriculum hadn’t been entirely due to a lack of talent. He’d just wanted to learn different things. Before his third apprenticeship season, he’d already been an expert in illusion weaving. That, however, had not impressed his father. Nothing had.

He pushed off the car. Impressing his father was a desire he’d thought he’d crushed out of his psyche years ago, but here it was, still lingering. A lifetime of indoctrination took a lifetime to overcome, he supposed.

Circling to the back of the car, he pulled the door open to study his new charges. The girl was curled up against her guardian’s side, hugging his arm the way a child might hold a parent. How close was their relationship? No wonder she’d been unwilling to leave the guy behind.

What a strange twist of fate that Lyre was now the guardian of a Ra princess. From the moment Clio had shown up at Chrysalis, his life had grown more unpredictable with each passing day.

“Princess?” He gave her thin shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Wake up.”

Her forehead wrinkled, then bright yellow-green eyes popped open. Fear flashed across her face.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, using a touch of aphrodesia to calm her. It didn’t work on children the way it did on adults, for which he was eternally grateful. “You’re safe—for the moment, at least.”

Her gaze flashed around, taking in their new location, then she touched the griffin’s bandaged side, her fingers trembling when wet blood stained them. “He’s still bleeding.”

“He won’t die. My friend did a little work on his injuries, though we’ll need to get him to a healer soon.” Lyre crouched beside the open door, putting his head lower than the girl’s. “We’re outside Brinford, but we don’t want to hang around. Where should I take you?”

“Take me?” she repeated blankly.

“You don’t want to stay here, do you?” he asked teasingly, flashing her a warm smile. Her fear-stricken expression softened. “The embassy was attacked, so where’s the next best place for you to go?”

“Home.”

“Back to the Overworld, you mean?” When she nodded, he sighed. He’d been afraid of that. “Do you know how to travel ley lines?”

“I’ve never done it by myself,” she said, “but I can travel the lines with someone else. I know lots of ley lines in my kingdom.”

“If I carry your friend, I can shield you both across the line, but you’ll have to guide us. Can you do that?”

She nodded again, and he hoped her confidence was appropriate to her skill level.

“The ley line we go to,” he clarified, “needs to be a place where you can get help easily, but also somewhere that will be safe for me.”

“For you?”

He arched an eyebrow. “I’m an Underworlder.”

“Oh.”

“You’re a smart kid, princess,” he told her. “I’m sure you understand that if an Underworlder waltzes into Ra territory with their princess as his ‘prisoner,’ it won’t go well for them.”

Her eyes widened. “Am I your prisoner?”

“Not at all, but I can’t let you out of my sight until you’re safe with your people. Can you think of a ley line where I can drop you off and also leave again without getting in trouble? Somewhere that isn’t guarded.”

Her eyebrows scrunched in thought. “You want to drop us off then leave?”

“Yep. Like I said, I’m an Underworlder. I need to get back to, you know, Underworld things.”

“Why did you save us, then?”

“It’s a long story, but the short version is that I don’t want to see a child murdered for political gain, and I don’t want to see a lot more people get hurt in retaliation.”

“You’re not what I expected Underworlders to be like.”

He grinned. “I’m not like most Underworlders.”

Her lips twitched in a small smile. “I know a good ley line.”

“Excellent. Let’s get you back home, and your pal here can get some healing.”

He helped her out of the car, then circled to the other side. Dragging the unconscious griffin from the backseat, he heaved the daemon over his shoulder again. The girl following, he trekked through the bushes. The ley line came into view, the wall of green and blue light rippling sedately.

Holding the griffin with one arm, Lyre extended his other hand to the girl. “Ready?”

She hesitated, her lower lip between her teeth. “You saved our lives.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied in amusement, wiggling his fingers in invitation. “Now let me take you home.”

She cautiously placed her small hand in his. Pulling her forward, he stepped into the line and its soft power rushed over them, a warm current he could feel inside his body.

“Once I shield us, you can go ahead. I’ll follow your lead.”

She nodded, her young face tightening with concentration. Closing his eyes, he enveloped the three of them in the magical protection required for crossing the Void—the emptiness between worlds. Taking three people across would exhaust him, but he’d have enough power reserved to return.

Opening his eyes, he glanced down the line once more, wondering if this was the same spot where Clio had gone through. How long until she returned? Would she return?

The Ra princess tightened her grip on his hand. She stepped forward and, following her guiding touch, he plunged into the howling oblivion.

* * *

The princess’s small hand guided him from the ley line and blazing sunlight blinded him. He stumbled, sand shifting beneath his feet. Hot wind whipped across his skin and he squinted painfully.

Then voices erupted and shadows blocked the light—daemons surging toward him.

They grabbed him as others wrenched the girl away. They ripped the unconscious griffin from his hold and the butt of a weapon slammed into his stomach. He doubled over, unable to breathe as he was shoved roughly into the sand.

“Don’t hurt him!”

The princess’s command rang out but the daemons pinning him down didn’t gentle. They yanked his arms behind his back and bound them with a spell. A jumble of male voices sounded and the princess’s high, pleading tones rose above them. The chaos reigned for another minute, then quieted.

Lyre spat out a mouthful of sand. Eyes watering from the sunlight’s intensity, he caught a sideways view of the walled compound that enclosed the short ley line. Six tall, muscular griffins with golden-brown wings surrounded him. Their loose, flowing garments and shining armor matched, down to the laces on their boots. That, combined with their long halberds topped with curved blades, could only mean they were soldiers.

Fancy soldiers, by the look of it. Important soldiers.

Another three griffins surrounded the princess’s unconscious bodyguard, two propping him up while a third checked his injuries. The princess stood halfway between the two groups and an older griffin kneeled respectfully before her while she spoke.

Lyre slumped in the hot sand. He wouldn’t be fighting his way out of this one. Bloody hell, had this backfired. Trusting a Ra, even a young one, had been a mistake.

The soldier kneeling before the princess nodded and rose to his feet. She turned, her hands twisted together, and stepped closer to Lyre.

“Um,” she began in a hesitant whisper.

The older soldier cleared his throat pointedly and the princess straightened her spine as though he’d poked her.

“Underworlder.” This time, her high voice rang with imperial command. “We owe you a life debt, and upon my family’s honor, I swear it will be repaid.”

His mouth twisted angrily. “How about letting me go, seeing as you didn’t choose an unguarded ley line like we agreed?”

She flinched, tears filming her eyes, but she lifted her chin higher as though to deny them. “This is my family’s emergency ley line. It’s the safest one.”

“Let me go, then.”

“I can’t do that.” She glanced at the older soldier for support. “It’s not—not my place to make that decision. My brother will decide what to do with you.”

Despite the blazing suns in the clear sky, Lyre went cold with apprehension. Being turned over to a Ra prince did not bode well for him.

“Once he wakes up,” she added, glancing over her shoulder.

“Once he … oh, hell.” He jerked his head toward the unconscious griffin. “That guy is your brother?”

The princess clasped her hands together. “Eldest prince and first general of the royal guard, Miysis Ra.”

A prince and a general. That explained the militaristic outfit. And his fighting ability. And why he was solid muscle that weighed a damn ton.

Lyre hadn’t saved one Ra royal. He’d saved two. And it was the deadly prince, not the young princess, who would decide Lyre’s fate.