“Stay,” I command my hounds, and they whine in protest. I step forward, and the knight smiles, slicing at me with his scythe. I dodge, landing on the ground. As he approaches, I tangle my feet with his, and he trips. I roll out of the way before he can fall on me, and once he’s on the ground, I strike, digging my knee into his back and swiping the blade from his hand. I’m on my feet again, armed.

The knight stands, breathing hard. “Bitch!” He charges toward me but stops short when the hound he stabbed pounces. The knight’s screams fill the air as his body is mauled. Then someone grabs my hand, and for a moment, I think it’s another knight, but when I turn, I come face-to-face with Thane.

“Come on!”

He drags me from the hounds and the body of the knight, toward the parking lot.

He opens the passenger side door and shoves me inside the car. “Tell your hounds to go so they don’t draw attention to you. Stay here until I get back!”

Then he disappears. My hounds pace outside the car, prowling, but I do as Thane says and ask them to leave. They obey.

I’m shaking, and the car is stuffy and oddly quiet. The silence presses against my ears like my head’s been placed in a vise, then I hear a muffled beep. I look in the console that separates me from the driver’s side and then the glove compartment. That’s where I find it—Lily’s phone. The color and warmth drain from my body. What is it doing in his car?

I fumble with the phone, heart racing as I look through Lily’s messages. At the very top—the last person she texted—was Thane.

He said: Come to the train yard.

She responded: Be there soon.

She’d trusted Thane.

And he killed her.

I look up in time to see Thane coming into view.

Damn. And I sent my hounds away.

I shove the glove compartment closed and slip the phone in my pocket, but I can’t school my features fast enough to put on a show for Thane, because as soon as he gets into the driver’s seat of his car, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say too fast. “You know, I’m just going to go…”

As my hand lands on the door handle, the locks click into place. I turn to face Thane.

“I’m sorry, Anora,” he says, but there’s something superficial about his apology and a darkness to his gaze I recognize: Influence. “I can’t let you leave.”