Page 57 of In Rising Tides

Damp earth and rotting wood filled his nose as he took slow, deep breaths.

Wilder rubbed at his eyes, and the world seemed to wobble when he opened them again.

The last few moments before darkness sprang into his mind. Panic seized his chest.

Had he been attacked—by Otto?

The grit of the floor stuck to his palms as he pressed them to the ground in an effort to keep himself from toppling over.

“Easy …” a voice whispered in the shadows.

Wilder whipped his head to the corner of the cell and regretted it. Bile rose in the back of his throat as the pain intensified.

“I said easy.”

Wilder brought his knees to his chest and rested his spinning head between them, trying his best to stay as still as possible.

“Who are you?”

Rocks skittered, and a figure appeared outside the cell. Tall, with hair that melded into the darkness, and a crooked grin.

“Nephew, you look a little worse for wear.”

“Warick,” Wilder grumbled. “I should have known.”

“He’s not the only one,” another voice replied.

Baelwyn.

Wilder’s head spun faster, and his breathing quickened further

Baelwyn had been his ally. He had wanted to see Lyra freed just as much as he had.

Wilder’s muscles tensed as anger coursed through him.

How did he not see this coming?

“I will kill you both,” Wilder ground out, clenching his teeth again. The betrayal he felt was acid on his tongue.

Baelwyn sighed and shared a look with Warick. “It’s not what you think.”

Wilder’s eyes burned as he glared at them. “Oh, it’s not? Then why am I in a dungeon cell while you two walk free?”

Footsteps resonated down the hallway, and Baelwyn and Warick took a step back, blending into the shadows.

“Keep yourself alive …” Baelwyn whispered before disappearing altogether.

Wilder couldn’t even hear their footsteps as they set off down the hall.

They were just a blurred slip of shadow, and then they were gone.

The footsteps coming from the opposite direction grew louder, sharp, quick beats of heels on ancient stone.

A golden light grew brighter and flickered like a flame whipped by the wind.

“Wilder,” his mother called, her voice frantic.

He rattled his chains, alerting her to his presence.