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“RHYS!” I scream one final time, twisting toward the magistrate’s hall when Lucien gathers the reins behind me. “RHYS!”

His heels drive into the horse’s sides.

The animal lunges forward so suddenly that I’m thrown back against Lucien. My wrists are tethered to the saddle, his arm is locked around my waist, and there’s nothing I can do except fight to stay upright when the horse breaks into a gallop.

The magistrate’s hall begins disappearing behind us.

My father is in there.

Rhys is in there.

And Lucien is taking me away from both of them.

40

Rhys

“RHYS!”

I freeze halfway up the corridor with one hand wrapped around Boone’s father’s arm. My name tears through the building so sharply, with so much panic, that everything inside me stops.

“RHYS!”

Boone.

I release his father and bolt for the stairs, taking them two at a time. The old man struggles to follow behind me, his footsteps uneven and far too slow. Boone’s voice came from above us, but not from where I left him. By the time I reach the landing, I already know something has gone wrong.

The alcove behind the cabinets is empty.

“Boone!”

“RHYS!”

His scream comes from outside now, distant enough to send a rush of cold through me. I run toward it without waiting to see whether his father is still behind me. A guard steps into the corridor before I reach the exit, his hand moving toward the weapon at his side, but I hit him before he manages to draw it and drive him into the wall hard enough that he collapses to the floor.

I don’t stop.

I throw open the door and run outside just in time to see a horse tearing away from the building, its hooves striking the road, throwing dirt behind it as the rider drives it faster.

Lucien.

And Boone is tied in front of him.

His hands are secured to the saddle, his body twisting as he fights against the man behind him. Even from this distance, I can see him struggling to turn around.

“RHYS!”

His voice reaches me again.

I stand completely still for one terrible second, staring at Boone being taken away from me. I already lost him once because I chose to let him go. Watching someone take him is entirely different. The distinction becomes terrifyingly clear when something inside me goes very, very quiet.

Boone’s father stumbles through the doorway behind me, breathing heavily as he catches himself against the frame. “Boone?”

I turn and seize his arm. His eyes widen when he looks at me.

“Come on.”

“Where are we—”