Gwen’s goddamn father. The words echoed through his mind, though he almost couldn’t process them. Any future he’d imagined with Gwen was most likely ruined. Even if she was completely innocent and hadn’t aided her bastard of a father, which he knew she was, Sabin planned to lock him away for eternity. How could she live with the warrior who’d imprisoned her father?

Besides, most people wouldn’t turn on family, no matter the circumstances. He wouldn’t. His friends—his makeshift family—were everything to him. Always had been. And it had to stay that way.

No matter how much his mind might be screaming not to do what he was now planning.

Gwen might not have aided her father, but that could change at any moment, now that she knew who he was. Fucking Fate!

“Maybe Kaia’s right and you’re mistaken,” she said hopefully, clutching his shirt. “Maybe—”

“I spent a thousand years with that man, guarding the king of gods in the heavens. I spent a few thousand more hating him with every fiber of my being. I damn well know who he is.”

“Why would a demon lead the Hunters? Why does he want to find the box that will destroy all of you if it will destroy him, too? Huh? Tell me that!”

“I don’t know how he’ll save himself. But I do know he’s the reason we opened that damn box in the first place! He would do anything, even send his own daughter into our midst, to ruin us. And since our possession, he’s fooled those humans into thinking he’s an angel. That’s how he’s able to lead them.”

She scrubbed a hand down her face, a mimic of him. “Maybe you’re right about him, maybe you’re wrong. Either way, I didn’t know.” Her eyes were luminous, even half-circled as they were by fading bruises. “And I didn’t conspire against you.”

He drew in a shuddering breath, released it. “I know you didn’t.”

“What is it, then? Do you think I’ll aid him one day, now that I know who he is? I won’t. I would never do that to you. Yeah, I’m leaving as planned,” her voice broke at that, “because you don’t trust me to fight with you. But you can trust me to keep your secrets safe.”

“Save it,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere.” And then he went for her wings.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A DUNGEON. Sabin had locked her in a freaking dungeon. Worse, he’d locked her in a dungeon next to the Hunters, who were moaning and crying and begging to be set free. And he’d done this after he’d bound her wings. After she’d trusted him with her secrets.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said, and there’d been true remorse in his tone. “But this is for the best.”Like that mattered now.

She’d known he would do anything to win his war. She’d known it, hated it, yet she’d foolishly begun to believe his feelings had changed since he’d met her. He’d stayed with her, rather than go with his friends to Chicago. He’d taught her how to kick major ass. He’d asked her about a Harpy’s consort, for gods’ sake. And then he’d decided to leave her behind, and she hadn’t known if it was because he cared or because he had no faith in her ability.

Now she knew. He hadn’t cared. He thought her father was his enemy, thought she was his enemy.

Was she?

If he was right and the man in the portrait was Galen, leader of the Hunters, then Galen was indeed her father. She’d spent days, months, years staring at that same likeness: same pale hair and sky-colored eyes, same strong shoulders and white wings. Same broad back and carved chin. She’d traced her fingertips over it, imagining she felt actual skin. How many times had she dreamed of him coming for her, gathering her in his arms, begging forgiveness for taking so long to find her, then flying her to the heavens? Countless. Now he was nearby…they could be reunited….

No. There would be no happy reunion. To learn that he was actually a demon…that he hurt people…that he wanted to kill Sabin…Sabin, whom she hungered for constantly, but who had locked her up in squalor as if she meant nothing to him.

Gwen spun in a circle, laughing bitterly. The floor was comprised of dirt. Three of the walls were made of stone. No crackable mortar, just smooth rock. One was made of thick metal bars. There wasn’t even a cot to sleep on or a chair to sit on.

Last thing he’d said before leaving her in this shithole? “We’ll discuss this when I return.”

Like hell they would.

One, she wouldn’t be here. Two, she was going to break his jaw with her fist so he wouldn’t be able to talk ever again. And three, she was going to kill him. And her anger was nothing compared to the Harpy’s. It squawked inside her head, demanding retribution. How could Sabin have done this? How could he have taken her newly awakened need for vengeance away from her? How could he have left her here, after the way they’d made love?

Sabin’s betrayal was an even bigger blow than the newfound knowledge of her father’s evil.

“Son of a bitch!” Bianka growled, stomping from one corner to another. Dark grains of sand flew around her booted feet. “He had all of our wings clipped before I even knew what was going on. He shouldn’t have been able to do that. No one should have been able to do that.”

“I’m going to hang him with his own intestines.” Kaia slammed a fist into a bar. It held steady, her strength basically that of a human’s now. “I’m going to remove his limbs, one by one. I’m going to feed him to my snake and let him rot in her belly.”

“He’s mine. I’ll take care of him.” The sad thing was, Gwen didn’t want her sisters to punish him. She wanted to do it herself. Yes, that was part of it. Also, despite everything—even her own desire to maim and kill him—she didn’t want to see him hurt. How stupid was that? As he’d locked her up, relief had blazed in his eyes, even alongside the regret, so he deserved whatever she did to him. Deserved all but softening from her.

It had taken her a while to piece the reasons for his relief together. But finally, she had. He’d gotten his wish: she couldn’t leave the fortress, and she wouldn’t be fighting Hunters. He’d considered that more important than allowing her her freedom even though his enemies had once done the same thing to her.

Gwen, too, slammed a fist into the bar. The metal whined as it bent backward. “Well, I’m going to—hey. Did you see that?” Shocked, she glanced down at her fist. There was a red line from the impact, but the bones were intact. Tentatively she punched the bar again. Again, it bent. “Oh, I am so getting out of here.”

Kaia gaped at her. “How is that possible? I hit it, too, but it didn’t budge.”

“He damaged our wings, draining our strength,” Taliyah said. Which had to have hurt like hell. “He only smashed Gwen’s until he released her into this cage. She’s as strong as she ever was. I wonder, though, how he knew to go for our wings and why he was so gentle with Gwen’s.”

The first part of her sister’s speech drained a little of her elation. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I didn’t mean…I thought…I’m so, so sorry. I told him. I thought he could help me train against it.”

“He’s your first love,” Bianka said, surprising her. “It’s understandable.”

Grateful as she was for her sister’s forgiveness, Gwen bristled at her words. First implied there would be many more. She didn’t like the thought of being with another man. Didn’t like the thought of kissing and touching someone else. Especially since she hadn’t had nearly enough of Sabin. Did she love him, though?

She couldn’t. Not after this.

“You don’t blame me?”

They gathered around her and hugged her, and her love for them swelled. Hands down, it was the best family moment ever. They supported her, no matter that she’d broken the rules and screwed up royally.

When they released each other, Taliyah gave her lower back a shove and motioned to the bars with a tilt of her chin. “Do it again. Harder.”

“Time to blow this joint,” Kaia said, clapping.

Gwen’s heart pounded as she obeyed, throwing her fist into the metal again and again. The bar bent and whined and bent some more.

“Keep at it,” Kaia and Bianka cheered in unison. “You’re so close!”

Pouring every ounce of her fury and frustration into the punches, she increased her velocity, watching as her fist hammered away, moving so swiftly she saw only a blur. Sabin must have assumed her utterly lacking in strength and wits because he hadn’t left a guard. Or maybe all the warriors were now off fighting, only the females and Torin remaining. Gwen hadn’t seen much of the reclusive Lord during her stay here, but Sabin had mentioned he never left the fortress, his link to the outside world the monitors in his chamber.

Was there a camera here? Probably.

Gwen didn’t allow the thought to slow her. Boom. Boom. Boom!

Finally, the bar snapped completely, leaving a gaping space to shimmy through. Success—and it felt damn good. They exited one at a time. When the Hunters spotted them outside the cell, they gripped their own bars in a frenzy.

“Let us out.”

“Please. Show us more mercy than we showed you.”

“We’re not evil. They are. Help us!”

The voices were familiar. She’d heard them for a year of her life—the worst year of her life. Hunters. Close. Hurt. Gwen felt her Harpy overtaking her, all but the colors of red and black fading from her vision. Hurt. Destroy. Under her shirt, her wings were flutteringly wildly.

These men had stolen twelve months from her. They had raped other women in front of her. They were evil. They were her enemy. Sabin’s enemy. Led by her father. A man who was not the benevolent angel she’d always thought him. She should kill him, too. He’d destroyed all her dreams. But the moment she imagined going for his throat, even her Harpy shied away. Murder her own father? No…no.