Flanagan’s expression hardens, but his tone remains quiet. “You knelt before him at the steelworks.”

His answer feels like a punch. I know he’s right. I just hate the cage. And I hate that I’m useless. I need to know I can fight the prince’s pull. I give a reluctant nod, and he draws me closer for what I know would have been a kiss to my forehead, but he stops himself and squeezes my shoulder instead. His throat bobs with a swallow.

“I think it wise if I go with Michael,” Quinton says. “I can help him with the Blood Call.”

Flanagan shakes his head. “Alexei brought Alyona. I need you with me. Take Michael now, please,” he says to Seonu. “And hurry.”

Outside the testing room, Flanagan strides up the stairs with Quinton. Seonu locks both sets of manacles to my limbs, but only strings a chain between my wrists. She leaves the collar with Mason. The two soldiers flank me as we march off in the opposite direction, Laasya taking up the rear.

As we traverse Blackriver’s matrix of corridors, heading toward the Old Keep, we pass soldiers running in every direction. Guardians shout orders at each other and prepare weapons, their expressions a mix of fear and determination. Some of the soldiers corral groups of frightened-looking students toward safety.

Mason mutters to Seonu, “The prince turns up at Blackriver gate for the first time ever, and I’m left babysitting his half breed.”

“Michael’s blood isn’t his fault, Mason,” Laasya argues. “It’s our job to protect him.”

“If it’s Michael the prince wants,” Seonu says in her dry tone, “then out of principle alone, I’m happy to make sure he doesn’t take him.”

I want to punch Mason in the face, but I can’t even join the discussion. My mind churns with another concern.

Alexei’s closeness.

The vampire prince has stepped inside the walls. I know because the proximity burns like an alarm through my veins. My heart battles between relief and terror. The confusion robs me of breath. He hasn’t even called me, and I already bristle with the urge to go to him. A warning crawls across my scalp. An ominous sense of dread trickles through my gut, sucking it into my boots. He’s up to something, and whatever it is, I’m at the center of his schemes.

“Guys,” I say. “We need to hurry.” The two soldiers check my face with surprise, but I push on ahead. “Is the Keep this way?”

“Michael?” Laasya asks, wariness edging her tone.

“Get me to the cage.” I break into a run. They have no choice but to follow.

Through the next set of doors, rough-hewn stone replaces painted walls, and I know I’ve reached the Keep. I swallow the stairs three at a time.

“Channeler, stay in line,” Seonu orders, rushing to keep up.