Free Claiming the Prince: Book One by Cora Avery

said.
    “Oh?”
    “Death has a particular scent.”
    “Does it?”
    “Yes,” he said. “Did you have a plan to escape?”
    A plan? Oh, yes. The rats. Half a plan at best.
    But even as she thought it, the rest began to coalesce. Only one hitch, she was far too weak to accomplish it. Maybe Kaelan was right. Maybe she was dying.
    “Magda?”
    “Yes,” she croaked. “I had a plan.”
    “Tell me.”
    “It won’t work.”
    “Let me decide that.”
    In halting, too-short breaths, she explained it.
    He was silent for a time after she finished talking. She drifted, skimming the edge of consciousness.
    “Well, that might get one of us out,” he said.
    His voice pulled her back to their dark, stinking cell. A mad thought flitted through her head. Why not tell Endreas where she’d sent Kirk? Then all of this could be over—one way or another. But who was she kidding? This would be over, and soon, if Kaelen was right.
    “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but you should go,” she said.
    “I would, believe me,” he said. “If I could communicate with the rats like you can, but I can’t.”
    “I’m sorry. I don’t think I have it in me—”
    “I can help you.”
    A brittle laugh escaped her. “The last man who said that to me shoved an iron nail into my leg.”
    “They haven’t fed me in days, Magda. We’re both going to die in here if we don’t do something. We . . . have to trust each other.”
    Her eyelids resisted her attempts to keep them open. “I’m thirsty. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thirsty.”
    “Focus, Magda. I don’t know when they’ll be back, or if they’re coming back. Obviously, they didn’t kill you, so they didn’t get what they wanted.”
    “No . . .” She gave up. Her eyes closed and she began to sink into that quiet inner darkness.
    “Magda.” Something hit her in the head.
    “Ow.” She grimaced, snapping back to wakefulness.
    “You can still feel pain, so you’re still alive. Can you come closer to me?”
    A spark of fear flared up in her. “To the iron?”
    “Yes, to the iron. And to me. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
    With what felt like her last ounce of strength, she peeled back her eyelids and shifted her head.
    “Here,” he said. “I am here.”
    Her neck protested, but finally, she found him. Through the film of exhaustion and the swaths of darkness hanging heavy around them a pair of vivid green eyes shone. Slowly, the rest of his face emerged. Something about it struck her as familiar—the upturned eyes under a straight, low brow, the steep elegant cheekbones. Yes, something was familiar, and yet, she didn’t know him. A face like that she would remember.
    A groan left her throat and she allowed her eyes to close again. “Another Prince. Gods save me from all the Princes.”
    “You are not happy to see a Prince, Mistress Rae?”
    “The last one was not particularly charming,” she said. Then it struck her. “You don’t have brother or a cousin, do you?”
    “I have no family,” he said.
    “The shape of your eyes is the same,” she said.
    “Who?”
    “Endreas. The one who I saw with Lavana. Her Prince.”
    “I don’t know who Endreas is, but until recently, I was supposed to be Lavana’s Prince.”
    “Well, it looks like she’s found one she likes better.”
    “Good,” he said. “I wasn’t going to let her claim me.”
    “No?”
    “No. I’m not going to be claimed by any Rae. So before I save your life, we should have that clear. I am not a commodity that can be owned or sold or taken.”
    “A liberated Pixie Prince.” She smiled, as much as she could, which wasn’t much. “No wonder you’re locked up in here.”
    “If I heal you, if we manage to escape, then you must swear that you will not attempt to . . .”
    “Seduce you? Capture you and throw in my dungeon until you submit to me?” She wanted to laugh, but didn’t have the energy for it. “Gods, I’m tired.”
    “Swear you will never