Torin couldn’t form a coherent thought. Blood continued to drip from his beard, and he felt dazed. They had arrived so swiftly by river. The Breccans had overcome him and his guards with hardly any effort. And even though he had been prepared for the worst—for the Breccans to descend in their customary way—Torin had been bested.

The defeat spread through him like a disease, softening him from the inside out. He could hardly stand upright.

“Summon her,” the Breccan said again, shifting the dirk so Torin could feel its sting against his neck.

Torin gazed at the stars. When he felt the wind pass by, he spoke her name, and he put the last of his hope into the sound.

“Adaira.”

Adaira stirred, uncertain what had woken her. Jack lay close, his breaths deep with dreams, his arm draped across her waist. She listened to the crackling silence and watched the curtains billow in the slight breeze. The night felt serene, and she languidly shifted, her legs sliding along Jack’s.

Her eyes were closing when she heard it again. Torin’s voice, calling for her.

Adaira stiffened.

She knew Torin was stationed at the river. If he was summoning her, then the Breccans must have come in the night, disregarding the agreement she had with Innes. Which meant they had arrived with vengeance.

“Jack,” Adaira said, sitting up. His arm was heavy; his hand glided across her stomach. “Jack, wake up.”

He groaned. “Adaira?”

“Torin’s summoning me.”

Jack went still, listening as the wind carried Torin’s voice a third and final time.

“Is he on my mother’s lands?” he asked.

“Yes,” Adaira said. “We need to ride there immediately.”

Jack launched himself from the bed, scrambling in the dark to find his trail of clothes on the floor. Adaira rushed to light a candle and opened her wardrobe. She decided to dress for potential battle and grabbed a woolen tunic, a leather jerkin studded with metal, and an enchanted plaid woven of brown and red. She had a moment of grief as she pinned the plaid at her shoulder. It might be the last time she wore these colors, and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she hastened to tether her boots up to her knees.

“Were there guards at my door when you arrived?” she asked, glancing across the room at Jack as he also finished dressing.

Jack met her gaze. “Yes.”

“They might not let me leave.”

“You’re serious?” Jack sounded angry. “Even under Torin’s orders?”

Adaira nodded, motioning for Jack to align himself with the wall, out of sight. He did so, and Adaira steeled herself as she unbolted and cracked open her door.

One of the guards turned to look at her.

“Will you stand aside and let me pass?” Adaira asked.

“We have orders to ensure you stay in your chamber until further notice,” he said.

“Is this my cousin’s order?”