Roman stiffened the moment the footsteps drew closer. Not long after, figures appeared beyond the silver bars of their cell. There were about four of them, two men and women.

One of the younger girls lifted her hand and summoned a glowing orb of light. It floated upward, illuminating the dungeon in a pale glow that chased away the darkness enough for Roman to finally see their faces properly. And unfortunately, he recognized one of them immediately.

Ziva.

Or as Roman mentally referred to her: Angus’s anonymously voted most hated daughter.

Ziva folded her arms across her chest, gaze sweeping over the both of them with clear disdain. "Looks like the two of you are having a wonderful time in here."

Roman’s eyes drifted to the ugly mark stretched across her face and winced dramatically.

"Oof. Whoever did that to your face definitely had strong emotions." He added, "I was going to insult you properly, but honestly your face got there before me."

Aeron closed his eyes briefly. Heavens above. Was he trying to fast track their death?

Ziva’s face darkened instantly.

Her voice turned icy. "Let’s see how much of that confidence is left after I’m done with you." She jerked her chin toward the cell. "Get him."

The two wolves immediately stepped forward as the cell door groaned open.

Roman moved the instant they reached for him. He twisted out of one man’s grip, ducked low, and shoved the second away before either could properly grab him.

Beside him, Aeron immediately went alert.

"What do you want with him?" he barked.

No one answered.

One of the wolves lunged again, but Roman slammed his forehead straight into the man’s face with enough force to make himself dizzy too.

"Motherf—"

Before the wolf could recover, Roman drove an elbow hard into the second man’s ribs. Unfortunately, he was too weakened and could barely do any damage. The wolf barely staggered, his face tightening with fury.

Then Aeron stepped in despite the collar around his neck and the exhaustion still weighing on him, he drove his shoulder into the second wolf hard enough to slam the man into the wall. The impact rattled the entire cell.

Aeron shoved his long dark hair out of his face with a rough jerk of his head.

Roman stared at him in delight.

"See?" he exclaimed happily. "I told you we were bonding perfectly."

Aeron looked ready to strangle him.

"Although," Roman continued thoughtfully, "when we write the book adaptation of this experience, we’ll edit the fight scene and say I handled both men while you provided backup."

Aeron genuinely could not believe this boy.

But somehow, the most offended person there was Ziva.

"Are you kidding me right now?" she snapped.

Humiliation and fury twisted across her face. Had she truly become such a joke to them that they could stand here mocking her?

Power exploded from her in violent waves, causing the collars around Roman and Aeron’s necks to crackle with electricity. The agony forced both men to the floor, groaning in pain. Roman curled instinctively as the current tore through his muscles while Aeron’s body jerked violently beside him.

Roman clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. "Bitch," he gasped through the pain, "are you trying to kill your hostages?"

That finally snapped Ziva out of her rage and her power cut off abruptly.

The torment stopped and Roman and Aeron breathed in relief. That was so close.

"Get him," Ziva hissed before turning and stepping out into the corridor.

This time, when the wolves grabbed Roman, he didn’t resist. There was no point after all.

Still, as they dragged him toward the door, he twisted enough to grin at Aeron and blow him an exaggerated kiss.

"Don’t miss me too much, partner."

Still sprawled on the dungeon floor, Aeron stared after him in exhausted disbelief before muttering one heartfelt word.

"Fuck."

They didn’t leave the dungeon. Instead, Roman was dragged farther down the corridor and shoved into another room, successfully separating him from Aeron.

That alone unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He wanted his partner and wouldn’t mind Aeron holding his hand this time.

Roman had expected a torture chamber. Honestly, it would have made sense. Wasn’t that usually the point of capturing someone? Beat them until they talked, screamed, or obeyed.

But the moment he was hauled inside, Roman immediately realized this was some sort of witch practice room, and every instinct in his body screamed danger.

The air was thick with incense smoke, so heavy he coughed. Strange herbs burned in bronze bowls placed around the room, releasing sharp scents of spice, ash, and goddess knows whatever else they added. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars containing things Roman absolutely did not want explained to him. They looked like organs.

Yep. This book of theirs was going to be a best seller.

Two older witches were already waiting inside with the kind of quiet that made people uncomfortable.

Ziva stepped forward.

"Where is it?"

One of the witches handed her a steaming cup filled with a thick dark liquid. Then Ziva turned toward Roman with a shit-eating grin.

Oh shit.

Roman’s stomach dropped.

"Hold him."

The wolves tightened their grip immediately.

Roman twisted away. "Okay, hold on. Before we continue, can we discuss the horrifying lack of safety precautions here? Because whatever’s in that cup looks like it violates several health codes."

Ziva ignored him and approached slowly.

For the first time since his capture, genuine anxiety crept into Roman’s face.

"What’s in the cup?" he asked carefully.

Ziva scoffed. "Oh? Now you’re scared?"

Her smile darkened into something almost vicious.

"You should be."

Suddenly, Roman’s body locked up entirely as an invisible force wrapped around him. It felt like giant hands pinning his limbs in place so he couldn’t move or attempt to fight back. He could barely breathe.

Pure panic slammed into him, watching in growing horror as Ziva grabbed his jaw.

"Wait—"

Ziva forced his mouth open and poured the disgusting liquid down his throat.