Naasir came to crouch in front of her. Reaching up, he flicked her nose. “It wouldn’t be a secret if we told you and you wrote it down in your history books.” Rising to his haunches, he leaned in close to her face. “Don’t put this in your books.”

“I won’t,” she whispered, fascinated by this wild, utterly beautiful creature who had come to rescue her.

She wasn’t a woman who touched easily, having been rarely touched herself, but she found herself reaching up to cradle his cheek with one hand. Turning his head, he rubbed himself against her. His skin was smooth, without stubble, and the contact sent a shiver over her; when the sleek strands of his hair ran across the back of her hand, she wanted desperately to weave her fingers into the thick silk.

“Later,” he said, his eyes heavy lidded. “First we have to escape.” He rose, held out a hand.

Taking it without hesitation, she allowed him to haul her up, hope and excitement bubbling inside her. “Wait,” she said when he would’ve headed to the door. Retrieving her knives, she dug out and unrolled a drawing of the citadel Suyin had surreptitiously made for her, then told him about a gate the architect said she’d hidden in the outer wall. “I don’t think she’s lying.”

Naasir folded the sketch and put it into a pocket of his khaki-colored cargo pants. “I’ll tell Jason, but we’ll escape another way.” He took her hand again after she transferred both knives to one hand.

She stood stubbornly in place. “What about Suyin?”

Naasir looked back at her, silver eyes glinting. “It’ll be difficult enough to get you out—we can’t take another person.”

“She’s my friend.” Andromeda was willing to take the risk that Lijuan’s niece was no spy but another captive. If she was wrong, she’d live—or die—on that mistake, but she couldn’t walk away; the memory of Suyin’s sorrow would haunt her always. “She’s been held prisoner for thousands of years.”

A harshly primal sound rumbled out of Naasir’s chest. “Where?” he asked, the grit in his tone making it an erotic kiss over her skin.

Fighting back a responsive shiver, she described the location of Suyin’s suite.

“Go to her,” he told her after she was done. “Walk there as if you can’t sleep and want company. Wait for me inside her quarters.”

About to step out, she turned back to him and smoothed out a wrinkle she’d made in his T-shirt when she pulled him inside. The instant she’d heard that scratch, she’d known. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Naasir’s smile was feral. “I’m going to find the Grimoire, so be ready to rut with me.”

That quickly, her fear at what they were about to attempt melted into flustered heat. “Keep your mind on escape.”

“I am. I’m looking forward to my reward.”

Coming from another man, those words might’ve made her uncomfortable, as if he was trying to put her in his debt. From Naasir, the statement was so honest, so open that she was only flattered, her blood hot. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Go.”

She stepped out of the room and, leaving the door open, began to stroll to Suyin’s suite. She knew she was being watched, but she didn’t look around, focusing her attention on the artwork on the walls.

Suyin was awake.

“I rarely sleep,” the other woman told her from her favorite sofa, an odd scent akin to seared flesh lingering in the air of the room.

Skin creeping at the realization that something horrible had occurred since they spoke just three hours earlier, Andromeda zeroed in on the new lines around Suyin’s mouth. She went to kneel by her friend, took Suyin’s slightly clammy hand in her own. “You’re in pain.”

A faint smile. “Xi came after you left. He believed my wing was regenerating too fast, so he ordered it be excised to the inner curve.”

Hands fisted and teeth gritted so hard a muscle jumped in her jaw, Andromeda checked the freshly cauterized wound. The pain had to be excruciating. Knowing there was nothing she could do about that now, she swallowed her rage and took in Suyin’s ethereal white gown. “Do you have a tunic and pants like mine?”

Suyin’s pain-dulled expression sharpened. “Yes, but if you’re planning an escape, don’t try to take me. I’ll only hold you back.” Bright, wet eyes. “My aunt won’t kill me—I’m family after all.”

Andromeda squeezed Suyin’s hand, the bones so fine, the skin delicate. “I won’t go without you.” She put steel in her tone. “So you must change because if you don’t, your dress will hamper your movements.”

Suyin’s lips trembled, but her words held a resolute strength. “I have only one wing, youngling.” She patted Andromeda’s cheek with her free hand. “I treasure your loyalty, but I won’t take advantage of it. I cannot fly, will be but a burden.”

“We won’t be flying,” Andromeda said, thinking of the wild creature she’d left in her room, the one who’d come into enemy territory for her. For her. “We’ll go as the tigers go.” It was the first image that came to mind when she thought of Naasir: a tiger, deadly and stealthy.

“Tigers?”

“You’ll see. Now change.”

Suyin didn’t argue any further, though her expression made it clear she thought this a foolish risk. Disappearing into another part of her suite, she returned dressed in dark blue leggings paired with a tunic in a slightly paler shade of blue. She touched her hand to the deep brown scarf with which she’d covered her hair. “I wore the darkest things I could find.”