Page 20 of When Roses Burn

“How would I know? Why don’t you ask your mother?”

I almost asked again if they’d killed him, but I couldn’t bear to hear his answer if he repeated it.

“Did he escape?” I whispered.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

When my hand went to my heart, the elf rose a little. Realizing my mistake, I jerked my hand down, and he settled on the bed once more.

“I have to find him,” I whispered.

“You won’t do that in here.”

“Could there be hidden rooms or another floor to this harem no one knows about?”

“Why are you asking me? Your kind are the ones who designed this shithole, not mine.”

I winced again, but what he’d said was true.

“You don’t want to be here,” I whispered.

He leaned forward a little as he whispered in return, “None of us do.”

My heart ached for him and the other prisoners. How had so many casters entered this place and not done something to free them?

Probably because the first thing they’ll do is rip off your head.

This was true, and although I’d backed up a few steps, I stopped to study the man who’d resumed his casual position while he stared at me from the bed. Uncertain of what to do for him, but unable to leave, I edged closer again.

“I… I’m going to….” My words trailed off as I studied the vine encircling his right leg.

If I gripped it, the thorns would bite into my hands until they hit bone. Still, there had to be something I could do.

“How do I make them retract?” I asked.

His mouth pursed as he studied me. He was very handsome with his pointed chin and high cheekbones, but I had no intention of having sex with him.

“They don’t retract until you leave the room and the door closes and locks,” he said.

“There must be another way,” I muttered.

“That’s for you to figure out. It’s your magic, not mine.”

“This isn’t my magic.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Briar

I had no idea how to make the vines release the elf, and when I couldn’t figure out how to get them to release without injuring the elf more, I carefully gripped the vine. I followed it around his ankle as I searched for a way to unravel it.

“What are you doing?” the elf demanded.

“Seeing if I can pull it free.”

The elf didn’t say anything as my fingers became slick with his blood, but I couldn’t find the beginning of the thorns. Desperation filled me until, gritting my teeth, I gripped the vine.

The thorns bit into my skin, but I didn’t push down enough for them to puncture all the way through. I almost yanked my hand back as pain flared through my wounded palms, but determination gripped me.