Page 216 of The Ember that Tethers

He was a Merikh. A wolf.

He wouldn’t hide or cower.

He would draw blood.

But, right now, he was a pup in chains.

Vesper drifted in and out of sleep but didn’t dream. Didn’t find enough rest to enter the Divide or search for Izzy, though it was all futile now.

A quake against his cheek woke him, small at first. He assumed it was a trick of his imagination, or a consequence of so many knocks to the head, but when the trembling grew as if the earth shifted, he feared he may really be fucking losing it.

As he rolled onto his side, his ribs and shoulder shrieked in unison in obnoxiously different tunes and brands of pain. Then the pebbles bounced in front of his nose and the dust stirred from the stone floor. Whatever this power was, it shook the ground with enough force to sink the castle into the swamp beyond.

He sat up and scooted back against the wall. The exertion sent a crack of pain through his abdomen, and he held his breath against it. His legs shook violently under his weight as he used the wall to help him stand. He craned his neck but couldn’t make out much in the darkness, only the shifting of shadows.

Another blast shook the castle and nearly knocked him on his ass. Even the dull flame in the lantern across the room flickered with it. When the cold, dank air heated around him, he realized there was only one person he knew who could wield that magnitude of power. One person who had an untethered capacity for magic and rage.

And she had been called here.

The door flew open to reveal Thellonius with a small female thrown over his shoulder. At the False King’s narrowed eyes, Vesper hit the ground so fast, he was shocked his ass didn’t go straight through the floor. Thellonius wordlessly walked overand dropped Emmery’s limp body into the cell beside his. As her head knocked against the cold stone floor with a dull thud, Vesper winced. Rope bound her hands behind her back, and marks cut off her magic.

Vesper didn’t breathe as Thellonius stalked to his bars. “Try anything and you’ll regret it." He strutted from the room and slammed the door behind him.

Vesper scooted up against the bars of his cell and leaned his cheek against the cold iron. “Emmery?” he whispered.

She didn’t stir and her breathing was ragged—too fucking ragged. He watched as she slept, praying it didn’t stop. Water dripped from the roof onto her forehead and washed away the putrid black blood to reveal a shallow cut along her temple to her cheek. From the impact on the castle, she must have expelled a ridiculous blast of magic, yet her vestige still shimmered like starlight, even through her restraints. Otherwise, she appeared unharmed. Which made sense, because why would they call her here only to hurt her? They wanted her for something. And he was bloody sure it wouldn’t be good.

A dull pang of guilt shot through his chest. Couldn’t he have just kept his shit together? He should have known that Emmery wouldn’t let them rot here. She was a bloody martyr, unlike himself.

His own consciousness wavered, but he kept an eye on her. Refused to let her down again. When Emmery finally stirred, she rolled onto her back and hissed a very pissed off noise. Her silver hair dragged through the dirty puddle as she lifted her head. As she turned her face, she caught his eye.

He croaked out, “What the fuck were you thinking, Emmery?”

She struggled to sit upright and replied, “You called for me, remember? Someone needed to save your sorry ass.”

Her voice cut through him. How much he missed her, how bloody dismal this situation was, and how he’d ruinedeverything again plagued him. “That fucking prick of a bird. He wasn’t supposed to even go to you. I see he was irritatingly obedient as always.”

“I’m not sure you can blame him. Your message was loud and clear. And if you think I was going to let someone else get a piece of you before I did, you’re sadly mistaken.” She stared at the ceiling.

He could barely make out her face in the dark, but something was … off about her. Too jovial? Or maybe she’d really knocked her head. “Emmery?”

She turned to him and blinked a few times.

“Are you feeling alright?” He tilted his head at her. “You’ve just been captured but you seem—”Unconcerned. That was the word he was looking for.

“I have a bit of a plan,” she murmured. She shuffled closer to him. “Do you know where everyone else is? Where’s Briar?”

He shook his head as his breath caught, and not from his battered ribs. “She’s … here.” At least he prayed she still was. “And they kept us separated. I’m surprised they put you in here.”

“Me too.” Emmery shrugged. “I suppose they’re not as smart as they look. And they look like morons.”

Vesper suppressed a laugh, and his ribs screamed. He knew she saw him attempt to hide his wince. Her eyes skated over his body and rounded. He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror in however long he’d been here, but he could only imagine what he looked like. At least the swelling in his eyes had gone down enough that he could see.

“Just an observation, but your shoulder is dislocated again,” she said.

Vesper narrowed his eyes. “Yes, Emmery. I’m aware.”

In the silence of the sad, dank cells, they shared a long look. And maybe she was also reminiscing about the night she’d puthis shoulder back in. It was the first real moment they’d felt like friends, and now it seemed so long ago. So much had happened.