The iron bars slammed shut, and Jon dropped his head back against the wall. “Someone get that old man sobered up so I can beat the shit out of him.”

  Of all the stupid things for Malcolm to do, this was possibly the worst.

  Jon’s thoughts were all scattered now. Jàden’s gentle sweetness was barely a thread of breath whispering through his skin. Something else slid through his senses, a dark, devouring wave of nothingness that threatened to swallow her light.

  Please be safe. He pulled himself to stand again and pressed his head against the cool iron door. Her kiss still burned on his lips, and Jon ached to rip the bars off their hinges and fight his way back to her, but he barely had the strength to stand. It was hard to breathe too deep without the darkness sliding through every inch of his body.

  Whatever had happened to her, it was affecting him too.

  Frank must have found her, and Jon sure as shit wasn’t going to leave her to suffer like that damn lover of hers. “Hey, guard!”

  Several of the prison guards glanced in his direction, but none of them budged. Jon clenched the bars, all too familiar with their behavior. Twenty years of his life spent on the other side meant he knew one wrong word could mean the difference between freedom and execution.

  Malcolm groaned from the corner. “Where’s my boy?”

  Clenching his jaw, Jon turned to glare at the older man. “Ashe ain’t here, and he ain’t your grandson.”

  Ashe and Andrew had grown up inside the Colony, a gated community of wealthy families within ìdol?n that never had to live by the rules of the rest of the city. They threw parties, maneuvered marriage alliances and generally congratulated themselves on the wealth they hoarded that kept most citizens on the brink of starvation.

  “I ain’t talking about Ashe.” Malcolm rubbed his head as if he were in pain then skillfully tried to change the subject. “Where are we?”

  But Jon didn’t miss a beat as he counted all of his men except Ashe and Thomas. The latter had grown up a Tower orphan since he was only a few months old.

  Of course. Jon groaned inwardly.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Thomas’s birth year was the same as when he first stumbled across Malcolm drunk and almost dead in the gutter. Jon clenched his jaw, kicking himself that he hadn’t realized sooner.

  “Let’s just figure a way out of this place.” Half a dozen veteran prison guards should have enough smarts to plot an escape.

  A group of city guards laughed out loud as they emerged from deeper inside the prison.

  Jon couldn’t think straight, but the moment he recognized the shorter, more muscular woman, he called out to her. “Guess we’re acing this ‘fresh start.’”

  The woman barely gave him a glance. Then recognition seemed to hit her as she stopped and faced him fully. “From shipwreck to prison cell. I see we’ve made quite the impression on you boys.”

  He tried hard to force a smile to his face or at least appear somewhat relaxed. He still had no doubt this woman could see through a lie, so he had to frame his words just right. Maybe if he played off that it was nothing but a drunken brawl, she’d take pity. After all, humans had no abilities like shifters did, so maybe they would be less of a threat.

  “Réva’s a bit stronger here in the south,” he said.

  “Where’s the woman? She cleaning up after your mess?” The guard narrowed her eyes, glancing at each of them before her gaze met Jon’s again.

  He had to lie at least a little. Or at least stretch the truth. “She’s my wife. We were only trying to protect her.”

  One of the guards who ignored him before stepped up behind the woman and whispered in her ear.

  “Captain, is it?” she asked.

  Something in her tone pulled at the hairs on the back of his neck. Jon had good instincts with most people, but this woman’s shift in demeanor had just pushed her into dangerous territory. He fought to keep himself upright as sweat beaded along his brow and the ice in his instincts warned him again to watch his words.

  “I need to find her,” Jon said. “She’s in danger.”

  That at least was the full truth, and thankfully Thomas and Ashe would be with her now. Any real danger and they’d keep her safe, but Jon didn’t trust whatever was happening to his body. Almost like an interference with their bond had twisted it up and made him feel like shit.

  Whatever was happening, he couldn’t fix it behind these bars. “Just tell me what I need to do to get us out of here.”

  “Serve your time.” She turned away and hastened down the hall, calling out over her shoulder. “And next time maybe that old man will think twice before attacking people.”

  Fuck. Jon cursed under his breath, a dark anger gripping his chest.

  Malcolm sat up, groaning again as he clutched his jaw. “I get in a fight or something?”

  Jon charged across the cell—he was gonna punch the old man again—but Dusty and Theryn forced him back.

  “Not yet, Captain.” Dusty’s calm tone was about to piss Jon off. “Wait until we’re out of here.”

  Theryn clapped Jon’s chest. “Let’s just get free. Then you can beat the fuck out of him. And when you’re done, I’m gonna strangle him for losing me a shot with that raven-haired temptress.”

  Jon tried to untangle himself, but as the obsessive darkness pressed in on him again, he glared at Malcolm. The old man had been like a second father to him, but tonight he’d fucked up in a bad way.

  “Jàden better be safe, or it’s on you.”