"King Herod," the girl said brightly. "You are his guest."
Ava's heart stopped. Or maybe it tripped over its own rhythm and belly-flopped into her stomach. "No," she whispered. "No. No. No."
"Where's Zoe?" she asked, her throat suddenly dry as sandpaper.
The girl's eyes darted downward. "She is… being punished. In the dungeon."
Ava didn't wait. The words barely had time to register before her body was moving, her legs carrying her out of the room. The girl shouted after her but Ava didn't hear. Her head was spinning. The hallway was endless, opulent, terrifying. Paintings of long-dead monarchs glared down at her.
She had to get out of there. Zoe was in the dungeon. Being punished. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen.
Her lungs screamed, her heart thundered, and her thoughts spun. And above it all, one name repeated over and over again:
Lucas. Where are you?
Where was her mate, her Alpha, her anchor in a world that had gone completely mad?
