We don’t have time to dive out of the way. The chains encase us both, and we fall into the pond. While the water helps to cool the sting of the iron, nothing can stop it from sizzling on our flesh. My already wounded wings are now marred with a crisscrossed network of burns.

Wide-eyed, I cling to Keryth as I hold my breath.

We won’t die down here. Faeries can’t drown. Our lungs might hurt from lack of oxygen, but it won’t kill us.

It’s what waits for us above that has me frightened.

Obviously, we underestimated the number of people sent to retrieve me. What will they do? Kill Keryth? Drag me back to the Day Realm to rot from heartbreak?

I touch my forehead to Keryth’s as I caress his face. He does the same to my cheeks, as if he’s trying to reassure me.

I can’t lose this man.

I just got him.

The rope tied to the net gets strung taut as someone pulls us up. We get tugged along the sandy bottom, and when we finally make it to the riverbank, we gulp at the air.

Through the dripping wet hair sticking to my cheeks, I peer up at Heston. The left side of his face is seared, and he sneers down at me.

“I really didn’t want to have to do this, Princess.”

I spy one of my hairpins clipped to his pants pocket. The white slacks are covered with brown patches where he must’ve caught fire. His blond mohawk is singed.

“I could’ve done worse to you,” I croak. “I still can.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he replies smoothly. “I saw what you did to Sedrick. That’s why we had to bring the net.”

Yes, normally, this much contact with iron would weaken a fae’s ability. But with the bond being so fresh, I feel the intense power surge Keryth had spoken of before.

Maybe they don’t realize we completed the bond already. It’s not like we wasted any time.

And that could be helpful. If they underestimate us, we’ll have an advantage.

I squeeze Keryth’s hand, hoping to silently convey my thoughts.

“Nothing to say, King Keryth?” The voice makes me gasp a little, because I wasn’t mistaken in the cave—that’s my father. “You’ve never been the quiet type before.”

He appears from behind a tree with a soldier at his side. Although the skin on my father’s face and arms is reddened, Heston must’ve taken the brunt of the blast.

“Father. Let us go,” I plead, hoping he’ll hear the anguish in my voice and have sympathy for me.

But he just laughs. It’s a cold, lifeless sound, and it sends a chill up my spine. As I look into his gray eyes, I see nothing left of the man I used to know.