The fury released him. Burst him free of Barl’s restraint. Burst his dravas free of bondage with him. He felt them stir and wake. Heard a wild shout of triumph. Felt the blood pump through his veins. A flare of light as his eyes opened. A hoarse gasp as he breathed free air. Sickening confusion. Where was he? And then he recognised the curtains. The chamber. This was the Danfey estate. His mansion. His bed.

And that is my beloved’s brother. Remmie Lindin. Holding a knife.

With an oiled ease that pleased him, no harm taken from his captivity, he rolled from the bed and onto his feet. Noted that he was dressed in silk, but barefoot. Felt the new length of his hair. Barl’s would-be murderous brother was staring, shocked eyes wide in his pinched, bloodless face. He was very thin, and he favoured one leg. His face was scarred, a line of pink, puckered flesh spoiling the beauty he shared with his sister.

My, my. How long have I been bound?

“Barl said you were breaking free. I didn’t want to believe it.”

Barl’s brother sounded hoarse, shattered with surprise. With grief. But surely if anyone deserved to be griefstruck, it was Morgan Danfey. Betrayed. Abandoned. Discarded by the woman he’d loved more than his life.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, Remmie. You stayed behind to kill me?”

“No. I came back.”

“Came back?” He smiled. “From where?”

Remmie’s jaw clenched. He was frightened, but not running. That was, of course, preferable. The killing of cowards was no sport at all.

“I won’t tell you that, Danfey.”

Of course he would. But there was time. “You look a trifle ragged, Mage Lindin. Has life been unkind?”

Tears sprang to Remmie’s eyes. “Dorana is dead. It might be healing, but it’s still dead. Its mages are slaughtered. Elvado’s a deserted ruin. Worse. A graveyard. All of Dorana’s a graveyard. I’ve walked for days to get here, and hardly saw a living soul. And those I did find have gone half-mad from hunger, and fighting the blight, and each other. What you did, Danfey.” His harsh breathing harshened further. “With your cursed magework and ambition. What you did…”

“What your sister and I did,” he said, amiable, and laughed when Remmie flinched. “Speaking of Barl, how is my beloved? Do you know she weeps for me, in her restless dreams?”

“She weeps for ever knowing you,” said Remmie, sneering. “She never loved you, Danfey. That was a lie.”

“It was not a lie!” he shouted, rage surging again. And then he laughed, because he saw that was the truth. Though Remmie tried to hide it, Barl’s love was in her brother’s eyes.

He felt a rush of heat, seeing it. Was scalded by memories of this chamber, that bed, her heated flesh heating him. Desire. Longing. Regret. He doused them all with rage.