Now.

Adair hunched her shoulder. "You speak as if being tortured was a good thing."

"It made us tough," Lila argued, her tone sharp. "We're survivors."

Adair shook her head. "No, we're thieves who hide in the shadows."

Without warning, Lila lifted her hand and slapped Adair across her face. Finn hissed, barely resisting the primal urge to lunge forward and give Lila a taste of her own medicine.

He didn't approve of violence toward females, but the sight of Adair lifting a hand to touch the mark on her cheek made him tremble with a vicious need to punish Lila.

Only the knowledge that he didn't have any idea how many Sylvermyst might be lurking in the ice tunnels kept him hidden in the shadows.

Acting impulsively might put Adair in even more danger.

"Don't ever say that again," Lila said in shrill tones. "We're the forerunners who will return the Sylvermyst to their former glory."

Adair ducked her head, an air of defeat slumping her shoulders. "I don't want glory," she muttered.

"Really?" Lila sneered. "What do you want?"

"Peace."

"Talk like that in front of our brothers and you'll discover the true meaning of torture," Lila warned.

"Don't you hope for more?" Adair's words were so low Finn nearly missed them.

Lila stiffened, a strange expression tightening her features. "All I hope for is to live through the day," she said in harsh tones. "Tomorrow, I'll hope for the same thing."

Adair sucked in an audible breath, her hand tentatively reaching toward her sister. "Lila, listen to me. We could-"

Crack. The female once again slapped Adair, halting her soft words.

Finn growled low in his throat, lifting his hand. One flick of his wrist and the ice dagger would be flying through the air to sink in Lila's throat.

The thought had barely formed when Lila was taking an abrupt step backward. Almost as if she sensed she was about to become a shish kebab. Unfortunately, her new position meant that it was impossible to have a clear shot at her.

"No. Stay here until you're called for," Lila commanded, pointing her finger toward the opening behind Adair. "Next time I discover you've left your rooms without permission I'll turn you over to Micah."

With her warning delivered, the female swiftly headed down the tunnel, disappearing around the curve. At the same time, Adair turned to head down a separate pa.s.sageway that presumably led to her private lair.

Finn moved forward, his jaw clenched as he battled against the instinctive urge to follow Adair.

His duty demanded that he locate his people and find a way to free them from the icy prison. After that, he needed to concentrate on how to destroy the Sylvermyst so they could never again use their powers to enslave his tribe.

The last thing on his mind should be Adair and the certainty that she was as much a victim of her family as his own people. No matter how distractingly lovely she might be.

Keeping his back against the icy wall, he cautiously continued past the side tunnel, following the faint scent of nettles.

It was impossible to determine how far he traveled, or even how much time had pa.s.sed, but at long last the tunnel began to widen. He slowed until he was barely inching his way forward, catching the scent of more Sylvermyst along with something...dark.

And dangerous.

Very, very dangerous.

Stepping out of the tunnel, he discovered he was standing on a ledge that overlooked a deep, ma.s.sive cavern. Ensuring there was no one near, he glanced over the edge, discovering there was a large bulge of ice in the center of the chasm. It was impossible to determine what caused the odd lump, and at the moment Finn didn't care.

Not when he caught sight of the slender, pale-haired fey that were chained around the edges of the cavern.

Frost sprites.

A grim joy raced through him.

They were alive. He could sense their spirits, although they were oddly muted. As if there was an unseen barrier around them.

Glancing from side to side, Finn was focused on finding a path to reach his people when there was a stir of air behind him.

He cursed his distraction even as a hand was placed over his mouth and he was yanked back into the tunnel.

Tightening his grip on the dagger, he prepared to turn and slice through his attacker. It was only the sudden scent of rosemary that halted his killing thrust.

Adair?

Glancing over his shoulder in shock, he met her furious glare.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she rasped, her eyes flashing with genuine fury.

Rya allowed her shadow to drift through the ice, heading for the nearest opening. There had to be one. It was just a matter of getting through the barrier to search from the outside.

While she drifted, however, her mind wasn't on her task.

Instead she was still seething.

Torque was a jacka.s.s.

No. Calling the aggravating male a jacka.s.s was an insult to the a.s.s.

How dare he imply she should be pleased because he condescended to accept his duty? Did he think she wanted to become a burden he was forced to endure?

Then, to make matters worse, he'd kissed her.

Just like that.

And she'd responded.

It was nuts. Full-blown crazy.

For so long she'd told herself that she would have to force herself to accept Torque into her bed. No matter how gorgeous or s.e.xy or enticingly male he might be, she had her pride. What sort of female could become aroused by a mate who barely acknowledged she was alive?

But she had been aroused.

Achingly, savagely aroused.

And the hunger continued to burn deep inside her.

She had no idea how much time pa.s.sed as she allowed herself to dwell on her dark thoughts, but it was too long.

She should have already been through the wall, even if the ice was a mile thick. Instead she continued to move through the frozen barrier, belatedly sensing that it was constantly moving to ensure she didn't escape.

c.r.a.p.

It had to be magic, but she didn't recognize it. Worse, she didn't have any idea how to get back to the cell.

She was well and truly trapped.

Refusing to panic, Rya concentrated on releasing a small burst of fire. She didn't think she could melt her way out of the ice, but she hoped to leave a scorch mark so she at least would know if she were traveling in circles.

She moved what she a.s.sumed was forward, leaving small marks as she traveled through the ice. At one point she paused, catching the unmistakable scent of rosemary, but it disappeared before she could use it to find her way out of the ever-shifting ice.

Cursing, she tried moving to the side. She didn't know if it would help, but she was determined to keep trying until she found an exit, or managed to return to Torque.

Almost as if the thought of him was some sort of trigger, Rya discovered her scenes filled by his male scent. She stilled. Had Torque managed to follow her?

No. That wasn't possible. He might be a skilled warrior, but he couldn't walk through solid ice.

Trying to pinpoint the source of the smell, Rya was distracted by a tiny spark that was visible in the ice directly in front of her face.

What the heck?

She frowned. She hadn't created the tiny flame. Which meant...

Torque?

Yes. It had to be.

She didn't know how, or why, but she wasn't going to ignore the vague hope that the small flame might help her escape.

Sliding her shadow toward the glowing spark, Rya watched as it darted to the left. With grim determination she followed, turning when the flame turned and slowing when it slowed.

It would be easy to wonder if she'd gone crazy and was destined to spend the rest of her immortal life chasing after an elusive flame.

There were worse ways to spend eternity.

But not many.

Oddly, however, Rya had full faith that Torque had found a way to reach out and save her.

Nearing the point of complete exhaustion, Rya grimly pushed forward, unprepared when the ice abruptly disappeared and she slid back into her body with an unexpected jolt.

She made a sound of alarm even as strong arms tightened around her, silently rea.s.suring her that she was safe.

"Torque?" Rya opened her eyes to discover she was cradled in Torque's lap as he leaned against the wall, his legs stretched across the icy floor.

His face was oddly pale as he glared down at her, his eyes shimmering with sapphire fire.

"s.h.i.t. No more," he snapped. "Do you hear me?"

She blinked in shock. She didn't know what she'd expected, but it wasn't his outraged anger.

"I think everyone can hear you," she muttered, trying to push herself out of his arms.

She might be grateful that he'd rescued her, but he was still a jacka.s.s.

Without warning he tightened his arms around her. At the same time he lowered his head to bury his face in her hair that had escaped from her braid.

"G.o.ds," he whispered, tiny flames dancing over his skin. "I nearly didn't find you."

Oh. He'd been worried about her. Her anger melted away. She didn't even protest when he squeezed her so tight she could barely breathe.

Instead she absently rubbed her hand over his chest in a soothing motion until the flames disappeared.

"How did you create the spark?" she eventually asked.

Slowly he lifted his head, studying her with a brooding gaze.

"It's childhood trick I discovered when I was still in the nursery," he admitted, his fingers brushing through her hair as if savoring the softness of the strands. "I never thought it would have any value beyond distracting my enemies. Not until this moment."

Rya frowned. Something teased at the edge of her mind. Something that had to do with creatures who could use sparks...

"Fire imp," she breathed as she suddenly recalled a story her mother had told her.

His brows drew together in a confused frown. "What?"

"Your mother must have been a fire imp."

His frown deepened. "I've never heard of them."

"Not surprising," she a.s.sured him, no longer trying to wriggle out of his arms. She was still too weak to stand, right? It had nothing at all to do with the delicious heat cloaked around her. Or the comforting sensation of his fingers combing through her hair. Nothing at all. "My mother has devoted her life to studying rare fey species," she continued. "She's spoken about the fire imps and their ability to create sparks that can travel great distances. They use them to communicate, to spy on other tribes, and even as weapons."

He hesitated, his expression unreadable. "I suppose it's possible," he at last conceded, his tone offhand.

She frowned. Torque was stoic by nature, but she expected him to be a tiny bit excited by the thought he might discover something about his mother.

It wasn't until she noticed the clenched muscles of his jaw that she realized she'd touched a nerve.

Idiot, she silently chastised herself. Torque was convinced his mother had walked away without a second thought for her child. Over the years he'd no doubt managed to convince himself he didn't care who she was or why she'd left.