Nic’s father studied her with that penetrating gaze. “I think you’re lying to me, pet.”

“What reason would I have to lie?” She managed to sound resigned and weary at once—not a stretch at all. Waving her hand at the round, windowless room, she continued. “I’m a prisoner here, dependent on you and Sammael for my very life. My husband and wizard will be dead soon, his house dissolved. I have nothing and am no one. I’m a realist, as you taught me to be, Papa.” The taste of the affectionate moniker was like bile in her mouth. “I’m well aware of who holds my leash now.”

Her father smiled, pleased with her capitulation, but not entirely convinced. “Forgive me if I don’t entirely believe you, kitten.” He glanced at Sergio. “Fetch Lady Elal.”

Asa folded his arms, looking more stubborn than usual. “There is no way that Iliana can accompany you on this quest. Not without a few days to recover.”

Gabriel bit back his frustration. “Nic might not have a few days.”

“We don’t know that one way or the other,” Asa countered. “What I do know is that, without my familiar, I am not able to heal injuries as severe as Iliana sustained. I was able to cleanse the wounds of infection and initiate healing, but her body will have to do the rest.” He sagged a little, looking gray. “I only have so much innate magic, Lord Phel. Healing Wizard Jadren earlier set me back. That’s on top of an intense sequence of days of healing emergencies, not to mention the chronic treatment of Selly. Without my familiar, I’m extremely limited. If you insist on leaving today, Lord Phel, you leave without Iliana.”

“The entire point of recalling Iliana and Han was so that they could go with me,” Gabriel argued.

“A questionable plan to begin with, and one that went awry.” Asa sighed and unfolded his arms, holding up his hands in surrender. “Look, Lord Phel—you contracted me knowing that I wouldn’t always cede to you and tell you what you wanted to hear. I’m not saying this to thwart you. Iliana is simply in no shape to do this.”

Gabriel swallowed a growl that wanted to be a howl of rage. Beyond Asa, Iliana lay in one of the infirmary beds, looking small and fragile, her throat freshly bandaged. Han sat at her bedside, holding her hand and putting on a brave face, but obviously wrecked by Iliana’s injuries. Her wounds had turned out to be far worse than anyone had realized in the moment, largely due to the fortitude belied by her sweet demeanor. The hunter at her throat had torn muscles, punctured a critical blood vessel, and even perforated her wind pipe. It was daunting, in retrospect, to realize just how willing the hunters had been to sacrifice Iliana in obtaining Han for Sabrina Sammael.

Even more difficult to face was the stark reality that tearing Han away from his beloved at this juncture would be beyond cruel. If it were Nic, Gabriel wouldn’t want to leave her. How could he ask Han to do so? He couldn’t. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he wearily considered his options.