"Fuck," I groan, turning onto my side and pulling the blanket around me over my shoulder.

Pain shoots through every joint, every muscle. The surface I'm lying on is uncomfortable, but that's nothing new. I've spent hundreds of nights making do with what I have. Sand, rocks, even mud, I've slept in the worst of conditions. It appears the situation I find myself in is no different—a situation I don't remember.

The crackle of fire summons me to wrench my eyes open. I stare at the flames for a moment, wracking my brain for the missing memories. They elude me. Every time I think I've grasped one, they slip away like a pesky bee who won't be caught. I gather the strength to lift my head and take in the rest of my environment. Snow glitters on the tops of towering gray rocks, and stars shimmer brightly in the clear night sky. It's cold, so fucking cold. The kind of chill that is bone deep.

I run my hand over my chest and hiss. The number of scars I've collected over the years is countless. Stab wounds, burns, a solid punch to the face, but none of them compare to whatever this is. An image flashes in my head—four sharp claws ripping down my torso. Images of a battle rearrange like puzzle pieces in my head until they are one clear picture. It was a brutal fight with the Allaji. We were overpowered, and I should have died on that snow-covered field.

"How are you feeling, Ky?"

My gaze darts to the side. Terro sits at the opening to the alcove we're in. His back rests against a rock with his arm resting over a bent knee. He is bundled in a heavy jacket, and his braids peek out from the bottom of a cap. His attention splits between me and whatever lies outside of our shelter.

"I feel like shit," I grumble.

"Being stupid and not treating wounds before riding for hours will do that to you."

I glare at him and shake my head. "I was running off pure instinct. We needed to get the fuck out of there before more arrived and we couldn't fight them off."

The overwhelming desire to ensure that everyone is all right has me inching upright. I grit my teeth against the pain until I'm propped on one arm. Ulric sits hunched over in the corner; his face buried in the neck of his jacket. The fabric does nothing to dull the snore coming out of him. It's animalistic.

"Where is Raelle?" I ask, a tight ball of worry knotting in my gut.

Terro runs his palm over his jaw and returns to watching the entrance. "She's with Greer and Ashavee."

"And where are they?"

"You need to relax, man. The three of them are a force to be reckoned with. They can take out you, me, and Ulric in no time."

My worry shifts to panic. "Where. Are. They," I say, gritting my teeth.

He stands and moves toward me with his hand out like he is trying to keep me from attacking. I already know what's coming, but it still hits me like a blow to the stomach when he says, "They went to find the Imperium."

I get to my feet, the pain in my arm and chest an afterthought compared to my anger. "You let them go alone! You're here to protect her. That is your job, Terro."

"My job is to serve my kingdom, and as ruler of said kingdom, you are a priority to me! Especially when you can't fend for yourself."

"She is what is important! There is no kingdom without her! Her, not me." My words boom through the quiet night, but he doesn't so much as bat an eye.

"If you die, there is no heir. Pliris dies with you."

"Fuck you and your semantics."

"Fuck you and your self-sacrificing bullshit, Your Majesty."

"Fuck both of ya, acting like assholes while I'm tryin' to sleep." Ulric grumbles from his corner. "Put your dicks away and shut up."

Terro and I stare each other down, our chests heave and hands clench at our sides. This man is my brother. What he would do for me is no different from what I would do for him. I'd never leave him behind. If I had to, I'd carry him on my back. It's unfair of me to expect any less from him, but I can't see past the danger Raelle is in.

I rip my gaze from him and stumble for the exit. "I'm going for a walk," I mumble.

"Kyron," he says, turning to follow me.

"If she can handle finding the Imperium on her own, I can handle pissing on my own."

Terro curses under his breath and doesn't follow.

I trudge through the snow, going further into the maze than necessary. The chilled air burns my lungs, and every step has my torso throbbing. I welcome the pain. It's an excellent damper on the anger boiling just below the surface. I loathe that Raelle is facing the unknown without me. Whatever the Statera throws at her, she will handle with strength and grace, but she shouldn't have to do it without me bearing some of that burden.

Granted, we don't make a formidable team right now. My current condition alone should stop me from feeling upset with her. But fuck, she left while I had no say. The logical side of my brain—the military general—knows I would have been a liability, not only to her but to everyone. I would have slowed them down and been useless during a battle. She is safer because I'm not holding her back. But reason never rules where she is concerned. The man who loves her with every fiber of my soul is furious that she left. I can't stomach the thought that something might happen to her. If only I could have told her I love her before she left.

Bracing my arm on the frozen wall of the maze, I set to work emptying my full bladder. The sigh that leaves me would be embarrassing if anyone was around to hear it. It didn't even cross my mind to ask how long I'd been out of it, but by the looks of things, I'm guessing eternity.

I situate myself before turning around and stopping dead in my tracks. A giant of a man stands across from me. His meaty arms crossed over his exposed, hairy chest. The cropped hair on the top of his head uncovered, with flakes of snow peppered through it. He has no coat, nothing to ward off the cold. Not that he needs it; the bulging muscles on every inch of him are sure to keep him warm.

"Hello, Your Majesty," he says, peering at me through hooded eyes.

"Do I know you?" I ask, sliding my hand to my hip, only to find my sword missing.

His thin lips pull into a sinister grin, sending a shiver down my spine. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure, but I'm very familiar with your pretty little plaything? Where is she?"

"My pretty little plaything? I don't know who you're talking about," I say, keeping my eyes on him and my tone flat. On the inside, I want to rip him to shreds. His blatant disrespect for my parah tells me all I need to know about him. He is here to finish what his friends started and take Raelle back to his king. I'll be damned if I let that happen.

I step back and call upon my flames and shadows. My fingertips tingle and my palms warm, but nothing sparks to life like it should. The hours I've spent healing have depleted my energy. My gifts are there, humming beneath the surface, but I can't bring them forth.

"You know exactly who I'm talking about." He steps closer. "She's pretty when she cries, even prettier when she bleeds. That smooth freckled skin on her back was made for a whip."

All self-control leaves me. I spring forward and snarl, "You sick son of a bitch."

My fist connects with his jaw, twisting his head to the side. The shifter smiles before licking the blood trickling at the corner of his mouth. I flick my fingers, desperate to at least produce a small flame.

I watch in horror as the shifter's hands turn into enormous paws with sharp claws. My fingers franticly slide against my thumb, as I attempt to pull that quiet buzz of power, bring it to the surface. It refuses to budge, leaving me to fight with my bare hands.

I swing at him again, and he ducks. Without missing a beat, he rears his elbow back. It lands on my side, punching into my healing wounds. All the air leaves my lungs, and my face contorts as I hold back a scream. The pain rips through me, blurring my vision. I blindly kick, landing my boot on the shifter's knee. He stumbles back. My reprieve is small. It's just enough to inhale and exhale.

A deep rumble comes from the shifter. He locks his gaze on me and stalks forward. I lift my fists, preparing for his next attack. The sharp points of his claws graze my cheek. The sting of the cut only spurs me on. My fists connect with the center of his chest and gut in rapid succession. I veer my arm up, aiming for the underside of his chin. He stops me mid-swing, grabbing my wrist. Digging his claws into my flesh, he twists my arm behind me. His front presses to my back as he grabs my hair and slams the side of my face into the rock. The stone digs into my skin, cold and sharp.

The shifter's hot breath warms my ear and neck as he says, "You can't stop us. We will take your land and the weakest of your people, including your parah. I bet she makes the sweetest sounds when you plunge your cock inside her. She will make those same moans for me when I add more scars to her back. Fuck, just the thought gets me hard." =

"You will die for what you did to her," I spit. My rage churns inside me, stoking the flames of my gift. It grows hotter and hotter until my entire body is ready to combust. I lift a trembling hand to the one holding the side of my head. A wild cry escapes my mouth as I latch onto the shifter. I focus all my energy into my flames. The heat matches the ferocity of my anger. Burnt flesh assaults my nostrils, and I anticipate the second my opponent goes up in flames. Let the bastard burn.

Wails of pain never come. No, it's laughter that rings in my ears. He likes it. The sick fuck likes being burnt.

What little energy I have drains fast. The heat wanes, and I'm left at the shifter's mercy. I remove my hand from him, and we both stare at the blistering outlines of my fingers on his forearm.

"After I'm done making you watch what I do to her, I'm going to torture you for the rest of your miserable life, nice and slow."

I open my mouth to tell him what I think of his plan, but the words never get a chance to leave me. The shifter jerks my head back and slams it forward into the rock. I struggle to keep my feet under me, but it's useless. My body goes limp, and I'm stuck inside myself as he hoists me over his shoulder and carries me away.