As Malice speaks, he balances the ring of a shimmering blue key on one of the sconce's flanges, his voice covering the gentle clank of the metal. It’s placed in such a way that the slightest vibration could cause it to fall to the ground—just within reach of Roark’s long arms—and I have no doubt Malice has cooked up some twisted plan that involves us.

But I know better than to ask. Instead, I wait for Malice to finish, watching the gentle twitch of his fingers as he stabilizes the key. When he’s done, he turns to us with a crooked smile, pushing his voice into our minds once more. When this falls, you may free yourselves. No sooner.

I can’t help but roll my eyes. Or you could just give it to us. No need to be so extra about it.

No.

Fine, I groan. I’ll bash my head against the wall a couple of times. That should do it.

A low growl rumbles in Malice’s throat, showcasing his irritation. If you make it fall, it will be too soon. There’s a method to the madness, one that would take your pea-sized brain far too long to comprehend.

My own rumbling snarl answers his haughty tone as Malice turns on his heel, clawed finger wagging over his shoulder in a farewell.

Remember, wait for it to fall. Not a moment sooner.

He slips back into the shadows, and the only thing letting me know he actually left is the slam of the dungeon door in the distance.

My gaze finds Lir, then Roark, my mind a mess of questions and possibilities. It’s clear Malice has something planned—the only question is what.

I lay my head back against the stone with a sigh, allowing my eyes to close as my headache throbs behind my eyes. I don’t know much, but I know whatever it is doesn’t matter. Not really. Not even if it ends in my death.

The only thing that matters is getting back to my little breeding bunny. And if going along with Malice’s plan is the way to make that happen, then I’ll just have to go with it.

Anything for her.

8. Dagny

8

Dagny

Hungry. So very, very hungry.