My blood chills as the words ring in my skull. In Bren's voice, they repeat over and over again. The king is not coming. The king is not coming.

The king is not coming. He received the message, then. And in response to that message, a dire rescue attempt for his son, he said no. In his mind, the prince is to die or live through whatever the rebels plan to do with him. My heart thunders in my chest as I realize we are stuck here until further notice—further than the one we were already facing.

Renit lifts his head from my thigh, my fingers still intertwined in his hair, and scoffs. "Did you really think he would come?" He mocks. With a grin, he rests his cheek back against my leg and his warm breath presses through my pants.

Bren's eyes darken and the flame brightening the dungeons flickers. His magic is responding to the rage he feels and this is the last straw. "Did you know this was going to happen?" Bren asks.

"Of course I did!" Renit nearly growls the truth. "My father doesn't need me. If I'm to survive, it's because I was the one that made it out. He's not going to waste men on bringing me back." His arm drapes across my knees, as much movement as he can muster without wincing from the pain.

If the healer had bothered to take away some of the infection for the day, he might be able to stand and argue with Bren that way. This, resting against me, is as much as he's able to conquer. On any given day, he can barely make it to the bucket without toppling over. And then we have to wait in the stench of our feces until one of the rebels decides to come and retrieve the bucket. Never Tesha, always one of the lower ranks. It's usually the thin boy with wide eyes and a shaking dagger in his hand.

"You're a prince. There's value in you somewhere." Bren realizes his plan is failing. He's desperate to get this done, to get what they want, because the rebels are getting anxious. Whispers are beginning to spread that he's picking favorites and Renit's first healer, the one not afraid to deliver a blow to an injured man, is the leader of it all.

I've listened to the arguments in the dead of night, the warnings from Bren that if they act out, they'll be left to die. To the overseers, to the gibbet, that is Tesha's choice to make. And no one is stupid enough to face her cruelty. She's faced enough herself.

"Listen, kid, you failed. Good luck next time, write it down for the kiddos back home so you can share the story around the campfire," Renit mumbles. He's drifting off to sleep. Except for healing, sleeping is the only thing he can do to dull the pain. If he's awake, he's feeling every brutal intolerance of his body and with every grunt and groan, it's getting worse.

Bren's eyes shift coldly to me. Again, he studies the way we're positioned and there's a question in his eyes. One I can't answer and one I shouldn't have to. We don't belong to each other, we never have, even if our friendship stemmed from that. At the end of this life we had in Arego, we had no choice but to choose each other.

"Can I speak to you for a moment? Alone?" Bren asks coldly. He's never used that tone with me and I've hardly heard it except for the bullies in Arego.

Renit raises his head to furrow his brows. He still doesn't know I left that night to speak with Bren. This entire time, he's believed that I never left in the first place and if I leave now, he might start a riot and scream at me to never leave this place—never separate.

"I'll just be a moment," I whisper. "Stay where you are until I get back."

With a wince, Renit sits up and looks between the two of us. "I would say don't touch her but I have a feeling you're smart enough to avoid doing that in the first place," Renit growls. Then he turns to me, cold determination clouding his features. He strings together the words, not as an order but as friends speaking to one another. "Don't let anyone touch you. And don't go far."

I nod and stand, stretching my aching muscles. The hard floor of the cell isn't exactly the most comfortable place to rest my ass, especially with Renit's weight pressing me farther into the rock.

Bren unlocks the cell door and allows me out before locking it again. All the while, Renit bores down his stare, promising an unforgiving death if Bren thinks of doing anything other than talking. Don't separate, his eyes scream at me. He rests himself against the wall, arms crossed just to show he can do something other than have his hands hang limp at his sides.

If he really wanted to, Renit could still fight. With the infection at its highest point right now, he could still kick Bren's ass and have something left to handle the other rebels with.

My childhood friend leads me into the night and past the huddled groups of witches and humans sharpening weapons and whispering stories about their travels. Has Tesha traveled farther than all? Or are there other stories out there, stretching all the way to a place I've never heard of?

Bren doesn't give me the chance to figure it out as he leads me through the cluster of trees and towards the mines. No one is out this late so there isn't any harm in gaining some distance from the dungeons and allowing me to stretch my legs. Even Bren knows I need the movement.

I relish in the cool night air, the smell of one fire burning to cook the meals for the entire group, and the cricket chirps echoing through the brush. In a place so cruel, the world is so still. While there are hundreds of bodies here, sleeping soundly on their cots, I don't hear the murmuring of nightmares flooding their slumber.

Bren stops by a cut log and sits down, resting his forearms on his knees. I don't want to sit, I've done enough sitting over these past few days. Instead, I circle the area in front of the log. "What's this about?" I start.

"You said you didn't know if you had feelings for him," Bren murmurs. He raises his gaze to meet me, smoldering fire, and I take a deep breath. I don't want to have this conversation now.

"My answer hasn't changed." I stop pacing and cross my arms over my chest. He watches every movement as if I'll attack him at any moment. Never once does he look at the titanium band forcing my power to hide inside of me. The skin around it is crusted with dirt and grime from the cell, including bits of musty straw.

"That doesn't appear to be the case."

I tip my head back to take in the bright stars overhead. Faint clouds swirling with grey flicker out some of the light. "I'm comforting him, Bren. You won't heal the infection so I'm there—for support." My voice shifts to a harsh tone much quicker than I thought it would.

The shadows casting over his face from the moonlight breaking through the trees hides what he's really feeling, whether anger or sadness. I can see both on different sides of his face—the rage in knowing the plan didn't work and the ache in believing I've moved on from Arego and the life we were supposed to have.

"Your comfort looks plenty like love to me," Bren barks. "I can't believe you would consider being his friend in the first place, let alone loving him."

I force a dry laugh from the back of my throat. "I'm allowed to think for myself. You don't get to choose who I spend my time with and who I choose to protect. You don't own me." I jam a finger against my chest and that act alone seems to offend him. He stands from the log, towering over me, and I don't back down.

I plant my boots into the ground and cross my arms over my chest once more. He will not get through the solid wall of hate I've constructed. Nor will he cause me to believe Renit doesn't deserve the protection and care I've granted him. He needs that more than anyone right now.

Staring into those pale blue eyes, I say, "If you cared about me at all, you would let us go. Instead of fighting here like children, let us go home."

His mouth tightens into a hard line. For the first time in his life, he drags a hand through his hair to try and calm the utter rage pouring off of him like sweat. But there is no room for that in the cold air. "Home? Home is Arego, not the castle."

"The castle is my home!" I fire back quickly. "I live there because that is what it takes to keep myself, Celestine, and Renit alive. There is too much riding on our Grounding and I will do what it takes to give my sister and the prince a better life. Even if we're close to the king—" I throw my arms into the air to show how careless I am, "—I don't care!"

Now it's Bren's turn to look to the sky for answers. He will find nothing in the stars. "This is the man that killed your parents and mine. He's taken too many lives and I will not allow him to live many more days beyond what he's already been granted," he dictates.

I take a step away from him, from the leather and the weapons and the smell of ash and smoke fluttering off of his skin like cologne.

"The king doesn't want his son," I whisper. "There is nothing left for Renit here so let him go." The words spit through my clenched teeth. If I had my power, I'd send him hurtling through the air until he slammed against a tree.

He shakes his head, giving me enough of an answer. Some of those orange strands flicker around his head, caught in that vast moonlight. "There is still much to do with the prince. He's not leaving and neither are you." Bren moves to grab my wrist and I move fast out of his reach, snapping back. I refuse to run but I'm not finished with him.

"If any of you were smart, you'd leave him alive. He's your best chance and in the back of your mind, you know it."

Bren finally looks to my wrist as though that holds all the answers. Out of everyone I've ever known, besides my father, Bren is aware how dangerous my power is. We trained together when my father wanted to push the task onto someone else. Instead of making time for me, he forced every ounce of his training into Celestine to prove she was the kind and gentle witch in Arego. I was left with Bren who tried to help me through those sessions but nothing ever worked.

Not until Renit and Silas came along. But my childhood friend, the witch that knows the most about me, is not aware how far my power has come. He doesn't know I can control it much farther than I ever could.

"Fine, I'll give you a chance. Do you have a plan?" He demands.

I have an inkling of one, just the bare beginning. A flicker of a start. But I don't tell him that and I definitely won't bother sharing that fact with the rebels.