Sweat dripped down Ares’s temples. His wrists burned from the constant friction of the metal cuffs. Astrid had left early that morning, and he had no idea where she’d gone. He prided himself on being sharp, yet he couldn’t understand how she’d managed to outsmart him. All he knew was that he had to get out of this place. Winona and Jackson were probably already worried sick.

The door opened. A large man stepped inside, carrying a tray of food and water.

“Eat your breakfast,” the ...