“We’ll find another way to bring you to our side,” Zekia said. “And you won’t have to listen to these people anymore. We’re moving to another city soon and there will be wind and water and you’ll get some fresh air.”

She tugged on the thin thread wrapped around Wesley’s hands like a leash. The magical string glowed bright silver under the moon, like a row of stars tethering him to his captor. Wesley missed the handcuffs, but he’d slipped them enough times that now the thread of magic was the only thing they trusted to secure him.

Not that it would stop him. Not that anything could.

“After that you’ll come to us the old-fashioned way,” Zekia said. “I’ll make sure of it. Pure grit, like you always told me.”

“And if that doesn’t work, then we will carve him up piece by piece until the only parts left are the loyal ones.”

Wesley jerked his eyes up as Dante Ashwood approached. The shadow man who had made him into one of the most powerful people in the realms. Wesley should have been used to being Ashwood’s slave, since an underboss was basically a glorified skivvy, but he hated the fact that he was on the floor while the Kingpin towered over him, as though he may as well have been on his knees.

Part of the ruse, Wesley thought. Let him think I’m breaking.

“Just make sure you don’t touch my smile,” Wesley said. “It’s far too charming to be cut to pieces.”

Ashwood made a sound that was almost a laugh, but also very nearly a scream.

“Do you know what makes you different from the rest of the people in this forsaken city?” he asked.

Wesley rested his chin on his knees. “My sunny disposition?”

“Your loyalty,” Ashwood said, unaffected by his wry tone. “These people can be bought and bargained for. They can be swayed and subdued. They can be changed by magic and madness. Soldiers are easy to come by, my boy, but family must be earned.”

Wesley’s gut twisted at the mention of family. Right now, the only family he wanted was far across the realm, a lifetime away.

“I will earn your loyalty once more, Wesley. Just like I earned your sister’s.”

Wesley spat out a laugh. “We’re not a family,” he said. “And if we were, then it would make me proud to be an orphan.”

Ashwood’s shadows did not flinch around his hidden face.