Page 100 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘No, little wolf. That’s not what I meant.’
‘Then what did you mean?’ she pressed, hearing the frustration sharpening his voice through the stone.
‘Only that it won’t be easy to fool Hagan.’
Ylva hesitated. ‘You sound like you know him.’
‘I’ve met him before.’
Her breath caught. ‘He said… he said he was the reason I died.’
Silence flooded the narrow cell, thick and heavy, and for a moment Ylva wondered if Arden had withdrawn entirely. Then she heard his sigh, soft and weary, bleed through the stone between them.
‘He was,’ Arden said quietly. ‘He is.’
Ylva nodded, then swore under her breath, once again forgetting he could not see her. ‘It won’t happen again. I can dothis.’
‘It’s not that simple, little wolf.’
‘You don’t think I can handle him?’
‘That’s not it.’ His voice tightened. ‘He’s dangerous.’
‘And I’m a valkyrian.’
‘That doesn’t make you immortal!’ The anger in his voice cracked like a whip in the dark.
‘No,’ she replied, stubborn as steel, ‘but I will find a way for us to get out of here.’
‘We need to be patient. We need to be smart.’
Ylva lashed her leg out in frustration, the toe of her boot striking the opposite wall with a dull thud. The cell was so small she could barely stretch, barely breathe. ‘We don’t have time for patience, Arden.’
‘We have nothing but time,’ he shot back. ‘We’re prisoners.’
‘Why won’t you just let me try it my way?’ she snapped, teeth grinding, her chest tight with fury and fear.
‘Because I can’t lose you again, Wren!’ Arden cried.
The world seemed to still at the sound of that name. The silence that followed was suffocating, pressing down on her lungs, her heart, her thoughts. Ylva sank back against the stone, breath shallow, eyes wide as his words settled deep inside her.
She wanted to turn, to lean into the wall and let herself fall through it. She wanted to reach him, to see those green eyes filled with too much feeling, too much history. To touch him, to remind him she was still here.
Alive.
‘Arden… I…’
But before the words could find their way out, light spilt into the cells as the main doors creaked open. It cut through the darkness like a blade. Ylva released a quiet, defeated sigh when a witch appeared, finger curling as she beckoned Ylvaforward. Ylva did not speak to Arden. She could not. She stepped out of the cell and left him behind, the stone swallowing his presence whole.
Ylva muttered under her breath the moment she was ushered back into Hagan’s chambers. Nothing had changed. He sat exactly where he always did; at his desk, hunched over scrolls as though the world might crumble if he looked away. He patted the empty chair beside him, a silent command. But before she could move, he cleared his throat.
‘Are you not forgetting something?’
Ylva bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood rather than allowing the urge to spit at him to win. She turned towards the bed instead, her glare settling on the wolverian gown he had laid out for her, pale and unforgiving.
‘Hurry up,’ Hagan said, already bored, his attention firmly fixed on the scrolls before him.
She stripped quickly, movements sharp and efficient, refusing to linger even for a breath. She ignored the way the fine hairs on her arms lifted when his purple eyes flicked towards her bare skin, cold and appraising. The moment the gown was pulled into place, she moved at once—straight to the chair, spine stiff, hands folding tightly in her lap as she sat.
