Instead of locking me in my room again, Jordan has picked something that makes me want to bolt. Something that completely surprises me. But these men are nothing if not unpredictable. I’m not in the dungeon, or even in my room.

I’m lying on an examining table covered in soft cream fabric while Healer Phaedra, with her cool, gentle touch, inspects every inch of me. “Did they do anything else to you other than foolishly try to take you out of this ...