Now…

He looked tiny and shriveled from malnourishment. Had they not fed him at all?

Not even once? From his ragged appearance, she’d say no.

Aching over his abuse, she dropped her gaze. All of a sudden, a scar on his right thigh caught her attention. Unique and unusual, it was more than familiar to her.

No…

Her heart hammered in panic. It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t.

Yet she remembered tracing a raised and puckered scar that went off in five directions like that one, on Kere’s thigh.

Right. Where. That. One. Was.

She wanted to deny the obvious. But as she looked him over with new sight, she realized he was the same height as her unseen lover. When he’d been brought in, his hair had been the same length.

His build…

Oh God, no. There was no way.

It wasn’t possible.

Was it?

Her entire body shaking from dread fear, she moved closer to him. There was one way to know for certain.

Please, let me be wrong. Please. She wasn’t sure if she could live with herself if her suspicion was right.

She cupped his chin in her hand and carefully lifted his head. Bile rose in her throat as she saw his injuries. Through that thick, matted auburn beard, Pip had carved his name deep into the prince’s right cheek. The man’s eyes were swollen closed by bruises that were in various states of healing.

Her hand shook even more as she pushed his filthy hair back from the left side of his face and she saw the confirmation of her worst fear. The prince had a vertical scar that ran from hairline to chin, over his eye.

One identical to Kere’s.

Tears welled in her eyes as reality slammed into her with a violent fist.

“When you see me, I want you to remember not to judge me by my looks… Promise me.” She’d stupidly assumed that vertical scar that bisected his face was what Kere had feared her leaving him over.

But it wasn’t.

He’d feared that when she learned he was the prince they fought against that she’d hate him for it.

Pip’s words rang in her head again as he threw her mother’s ring on her desk. “Out of everything we confiscated from our royal prisoner, that was the only thing the bastard put up a fight to keep. Only that. I figured it had to be worth a fortune given the rest of his shit and how much it cost… the damn thing is as fake as it can be. He said it wasn’t worth the price of the appraisal.”

Darling Cruel had fought only to keep her mother’s worthless ring—a ring Kere had vowed to protect with his life.

Kere had gone missing the same day Clarion had abducted the prince.

The Sentella was here and they were pissed.

Her soul screamed with a truth that terrified her. Please let me be wrong.

“Kere?”

He opened his eyes as much as he could—two small slits to pin her with a look of such profound hatred that it stole her breath.