Page 90 of The Savage Vow
“They are going to…” Orlena’s voice fractured. “Tomorrow?—”
“They will not.”
“How?” Her voice cracked; panic was setting in. “There are guards. Warriors. He said that?—”
Orlena’s words dissolved into sobs. Nargol closed the last inch of distance she could manage and reposed her forehead on the iron. The metal was cold, but she ignored it just so that some part of her could touch Orlena. She angled her head carefully until she could lean it sideways against Orlena’s through the narrow gap where the bars aligned.
“They think iron holds me.” Nargol’s voice was low.
“Your wrists are shackled. You can’t get out of them.” Orlena sobbed even harder. She shook her head and wiped her face, but the tears continued. She gripped the bars and stared up at Nargol. “I don’t want to die.”
The confession weakened Nargol’s knees. Nargol’s chest felt as if it were being crushed from the inside.
“You will not,” she said.
“But how?” Orlena pressed. “How will you get us out and save us?”
Nargol didn’t have an answer at the moment. She turned and took in the small cell. The bars were thick and made of iron. Even if her hands were free, she wouldn’t be able to bend them to her will. She faced Orlena again and found her eyes searching, her mate waiting for an answer.
“I will tear this place stone from stone if I must. I will break my own bones before I let them harm you.”
“I don’t need you to break,” Orlena whispered. She swiped at another tear that trailed down her face. She pressed her forehead to the bars between them. “I need you alive.”
Nargol checked the corridor again. Guards would be rotating their watch. She paid close attention to the dripping water sound that was nearby—perhaps it was a drainage channel. Old mortar between the stones.
She catalogued everything.
She would find a weakness.
She always did.
Nargol turned back to Orlena and rested her forehead to hers as best she could.
“I trust you.” Orlena sighed.
“Do you?” Nargol asked softly. It was not that she didn’t believe her. She did. But it did something to her to hear Orlena speak it aloud. Orlena blinked and steadied her breath.
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation in her answer. Now she knew she could not fail. Not with the trust that was put in her hands even though her wrists were bound.
Footsteps echoed faintly from down the hall. It must be the guards who would watch them. Voices reverberated. They were speaking of the preparations for tomorrow.
Nargol bit back a growl. Tomorrow would not come as they would expect.
“Rest now,” Nargol said.
“How can I sleep?” Orlena turned and took in her small cell. There was a tiny stone landing that jutted from the wall. A hole in the floor in the corner where one could answer nature’s call. No comforts of home. Just a cold, hard dungeon.
“Trust me when I say you will need your rest,” Nargol murmured.
Orlena arched an eyebrow at her. She pressed close to bars again and tilted her head back. “I love you.”
Those soft words were all that Nargol needed to gain strength. She could fight and defeat a hundred orc warriors at the moment. She closed her eyes briefly and absorbed the warmth from those three little words.
“I love you,” Nargol answered.
She wasn’t sure how, but she was going to keep her promise.
