“But enough reminiscing,” Jag says. “We’ve got a little problem-solving to do.” Without warning, he grabs a handful of Ines’s hair and slices cleanly through it near her scalp.

I gasp before I can stop myself, frantically searching for a way to keep him from hurting Ines. “It must be difficult to be so lacking in the, uh…manhood department,” I say.

Aarya chuckles.

“I mean, this is a lot of effort to go through just to show us that you’re tough,” I continue. “Maybe next time you should try something other than giving a girl a haircut while two guards hold her down?”

Jag looks me square in the eye. “You do know your emotions show on your face? That I know this distresses you, that I distress you,” he says, and slices off another chunk of Ines’s hair. “It’s a disappointment, really. I was hoping that if I had a granddaughter who was clever enough to sneak in here, she might also be good at deception. But then again, it’s better not to get attached to toys you can’t keep.” He slices at Ines’s hair again, and he must nick her scalp this time because a dribble of blood runs down her temple. “Oh dear. It seems you’ve distracted me and I’m not looking where I’m cutting,” he says, slicing off the last remaining section.

He drops the red locks on the floor in front of her. Jag nods to the guards to put Ines back in her shackles, and this time Aarya doesn’t take a swing at them. We all remain perfectly silent.

“Take the hair,” he orders the guard with the mustache. “Find whatever they were hiding.”

The man scoops up Ines’s hair and exits the cell. My stomach churns. Is this my fault? If I hadn’t smashed that vial, would Jag have done this?

Jag paces in front of us, tapping his knife on his palm. “You see, November, I had intended on simply asking you a question. But after seeing how deeply you feel for your friends here, I’m thinking it makes good sense to give you some motivation to answer it.”

Fear grips my chest, and my heart pounds. How could I have been so loose with my emotions? I should have remained silent. Guilt wraps around me like a noose.

“The only choice we need to make now is which of your friends will provide the best motivation,” Jag says, stopping in front of Aarya. “The Jackal? The Fox?” He points his knife at them and pauses to read my reaction. “Or the Wolf?” The moment he points to Ash, Jag’s eyes brighten with recognition, and I curse myself—my emotions clearly showed on my face.

“The Wolf it is,” Jag says happily, like he’s choosing a ripe melon at the supermarket.