Why?

You know why. She suffered at the hands of the Phoenix. Suffered terribly—and enough.

“What happened?” he asked Xerxes. He had to get the girl out of his head.

“Now he talks to me.” His friend settled on the couch. “I don’t know. We were free-falling. Halfway down I caught her. She cupped my face, told me to remember, and vanished.”

So. The girl could flash, moving from one location to another with only a thought. Explained a lot. “Remember what?”

Xerxes met his gaze and quirked a brow.

Right. If he knew, he wouldn’t be so frustrated.

“I see her, and I have to force myself to look away,” the warrior said, rubbing the center of his chest. “But I do force myself, because looking at her brings grief. In my head, and in my heart.”

Can’t stand the thought of him grieving. “May I suggest knitting to help you forget your—”

Xerxes threw the glass at his head.

Chuckling, Thane easily dodged. “No? Then how about a walk through the courtyard?”

He led Xerxes to the courtyard, and they strolled along the walkway. The scent of blood, both old and fresh, saturated the air. Moans of agony created a symphony of horror. He couldn’t summon a smile, even though the Phoenix deserved this and more.

Hate them.

But are you willing to fall from the skies for them?

Stiffening, he glanced at Xerxes. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened to you if you’d avoided capture by the demons?”

“All the time,” his friend replied, swiping up a twig and snapping it in half. “I would be the man I was, happy, fulfilled, but I would be without you and Bjorn, and that’s not okay with me.”

A perfect example of finding beauty from ashes. The world could be a conniving harlot, as evil as a demon, but love would defeat her, every single time. Love never failed.

They reached the spot where Kendra was staked to the ground. But for the first time, Thane was not satisfied seeing her brought so low. He was treating her exactly as the demons had treated his friends.

Silly thought.

Frowning, he spread his wings and slowly crouched to one knee, meeting Kendra’s gaze. She was thinner than she’d been at camp. Her cheekbones were gaunt. Limp strawberry-blond hair tangled around her head. Blood dripped from the holes where her ears should be. Cuts marred her lips, and dirt and blood streaked her naked skin. Every bit of exposed skin was blistered, some of it burned so badly it had blackened.

She was awake, lucid.

“Do you regret your treatment of me?” he asked, knowing she couldn’t hear him.

Her eyes were wide, beseeching him. He could imagine the words she was trying to project at him, her throat too dry to let them form. Thane, please. I never meant to enslave you, didn’t realize what I was doing to you. It was an accident. A misunderstanding.

No. She did not regret. She made excuses!

“Do you think the new king will come for you?” he asked, tracing his knuckles along her jawline. “Do you think he’ll fight for you, the daughter of his beloved Malta? That he’ll want you unharmed?” He paused for effect. “Think again. Ardeo will fight for the others, but not you. You’re the niece of Malta’s murderer.”

As she tried to speak, incomprehensible sounds sprang from her. She began to struggle against the stakes, attempting to pull herself up and off. She only worsened her injuries.

He took a small bit of satisfaction from that. “What say you, Xerxes? Should I end her misery?”

“If you’d like her to repay you with a dagger, yes.”

Grinning coldly, Thane straightened. “One day,” he said to Kendra, “I’ll tire of seeing you like this. One day, I might even let you go. But that day is not today.”

* * *

SNAKING A CORNER, Elin ran into Thane. Literally ran into him, and almost dropped the cake she’d spent the past hour and a half baking. After leaving his suite, she’d needed a distraction, and gardening hadn’t cut it, so she’d opted not to wait to wow him with her culinary genius.

His kitchen staff had protested—at first. Adrian had followed her there, and though he’d never said a word, his presence shut everyone up.

Mixing the ingredients, as she used to watch Bay do, had been as upsetting as it was gratifying.

Thane’s strong arms banded around her to steady her. “Careful.” He set her back a few feet and took the strawberry-vanilla confection from her hands.

Heat stained her cheeks. “Uh, sorry about that.” Her body, the traitor, reacted to his nearness, as always, heating and tingling. “I was on a mission, and plowing forward without paying attention.” Her gaze darted to Xerxes, who stood beside him. “Would you like to sample my dessert? I call it The Perfect Perfection. Trademark pending.”

He looked at it, then at her. “I think I’ll let Thane fall on this grena— I mean, let him have all of this one.” Clearly fighting a grin, he stepped around her and ambled down the hallway.

Thane remained in place, as still as a statue. “You baked already?”

There were streaks of black on his face and hands. Char? And what was with the bleak glaze in his eyes and the strain on his features?

“I did. And I know it’s not much to look at.” The middle had fallen the moment she’d pulled the pan from the oven, and then the top layer had shredded as she’d spread the icing. “But I’m certain it tastes divine.”

“You didn’t sample it yourself?”

“No.” The last time Bay made one, he’d fed her by hand. Her heart couldn’t take any more trips down memory lane. “You’ll be the first,” she said, eager to know his opinion. “Please.”

“Certainly.” He balanced the cake in one hand and pinched the edge with the other. His eyes widened as he chewed.

That was a good sign, right? “Well?”

“It’s... Hmm.” He swallowed with obvious effort. “This is what you’re going to sell at your bakery?”

“Yes,” she said, trying not to take a defensive tone.

“The best in the world?”

“Yes.” She stomped her foot. “Why?”

He ignored the question, asking another of his own. “And you enjoy baking?”

“Well...yeah. It was my husband’s favorite thing to do.”