RYDER

It doesn't take me too long to figure out that the knife he's holding against Mell's throat is made of silver.

The glare of it almost disorients me, but I refuse to take my eyes off his face. Mell's panicked eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second and I see the pleading look in her eyes though I'm not sure what she's asking for exactly.

"Going somewhere?" he questions.

My anger rips through me. It takes every drop of self-restraint to stay put and not attack him outright. Every ...