“Logan,” Stray whispered, shaking his shoulder. “Logan, I need you to wake up.”

And she shook his shoulders slightly, trying to rouse him. Trying to cover her bare hands with the sleeve of her gown the better to touch his flesh. Stray knew she was on the raggediest edge of her self-control, here with what might be Logan’s corpse before her. Her heart was hammering in her chest, regret that their last words had been spoken in anger- What matter if he’d courted Gold long ago?- shaking through her frame. It seemed to her that she could bear anything that she had been through in this Hellish place if she could only be sure he lived still. He did not need to want her, it would be enough that he survived- But she could not be sure that he did.

He didn’t respond and she felt her heart crack further in her chest. It was strange; Once inside the cage it seemed that the wizard no longer had any power over her, that she had regained control of both her voice and her body although try as she might she could not stop her weeping. Just like she couldn’t control the rage swarming through her as she took in the full extent of the damage which had been done to her mate. As if he read that thought though he stirred beneath her hands, his bare flesh warming against her scarcely-covered skin. Immediately Stray stilled, pulling her hands away contritely. Not wanting to hurt him further-

He gave a strange, little wolf-like moan in his sleep, as if even with the pain her touch brought he still wanted her near.

She felt her stomach give a weird, unfamiliar, strangely emotional dip.

“Now isn’t that delightful,” she heard the Empress’ voice coo then. The horned woman was smiling widely at Belasco, her eyes bright and cold with malice. “The human ability to love is truly astonishing, don’t you agree my pet?”

The wizard inclined his head slightly. “Indeed, Majestrix,” he murmured. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on Logan as if Stray no longer existed for him. “It is always a delight to witness the root of so much human cruelty.”

“Love is not the root of a person’s cruelty,” Stray snapped, “Just the opposite.”

Belasco made to answer but his Empress spoke over him. “It is the dose which makes the poison, girl,” she whispered. Her smile glittered, cold as dead stars, in the gloom. “You would do well to remember that in the next few minutes- Before your precious wolf awakes, that is...”

And she reached her hand in through the bars of the cage, her voice cooing. Stroking her fingers gently along Logan’s skin as if she were soothing a particularly beloved pet. Without her willing it Stray felt that thing, that passion-that-was-everything-but-words welling up inside her. Drew her lips and growled, teeth showing, and just for a moment she could have sworn- Could have sworn that her shadow resembled that of a wolf. But before she could really examine that thought Logan stirred, his eyes finally opening. Craggy face bruised and battered, body more horribly beaten than she’d ever seen before even in the boxing cages of Caer Naegin. He moved, doublet and shirt shifting and she gave a horrified little cry: Scorched hand-prints made a fire-cut tracery across his chest and shoulders, the softened, born-to-be-stroked skin of his back burnt beyond repair.

He wasn’t healing, she realised disjointedly.

“Stray,” he murmured then, “Stray, is that you..?” His smile was strangely gentle though one of his eyes was bruised shut. “I knew I would see you again, cariad… I knew Kitty and ’Ro were right…”

And he tried to force himself into sitting, tried to pull her in against him. Taking her hand and kissing it though it was uncovered, his lips warm and welcome against her palm. She gave a little gasp, half joy, half sorrow. Relief more than anything else washing through her as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as tightly as she dared against her chest. It felt like an age since she had been touched like this, and with that one caress she was nearly drunk on him- Drunk on the memory of what touching Logan felt like.

“I thought you were lost to me,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice down in the presence of their audience. “I’m so sorry, I know if I hadn’t run-” She shook her head, so damn angry with herself she could barely speak. “It was just the thought of you with Gold, the image of it- You said you were mine- Mine, Logan-”

And she shook her head again, not knowing what to say to him. Not knowing if all the words in any language could translate what she really felt.

As always though, it seemed he understood her. “Hush, cariad,” he said softly. His voice was rough. Embarrassed almost. “I should have told you sooner. Shouldn’t have let my shame and fear get in the way of things.” And he cupped her face in his hands, skin protected by her long hair. She gulped at the honesty she saw in his expression but though some part of her was afraid to face it she found she couldn’t look away. Even Belasco and his Empress seemed a long way away now. “It was a long time ago,” he was saying, “And I’m not proud of it. Not proud of who I was then, nor proud of what that plague-bitch helped me to become. There’s much that sporting with Gold cost me and all of it was more precious than my pride, cariad-”

In the darkness the Empress snorted in amusement, the sound hard. Callous. “Sporting?” she interrupted tartly. “Is that what you would call it?” Her eyes were glowing, gold-on-sky-blue, the scent of brimstone oozing off her in the dark.

Stray couldn’t help but notice that Belasco had suddenly grown very, very still.

Logan frowned, turning his head towards her as if he were trying to locate her voice. His hands tightening on Stray, moving to put her behind him in a gesture she recognised as his inner beast’s desire to protect its mate. “Aye, sporting,” he answered, eyes narrowed despite their bruising. “Lying with a woman you know to be a monster is no virtue but there’s worse things have been done by wolves and men-”

“You would know.” And the Empress’ eyes glowed brighter, burning now like hex-fire. Her horns were beginning to burn, fiery patterns roiling and threading across her bone armour, the sword which hung at her hip lengthening and sharpening, its surface unfurling into wickedly sharp, flesh-tearing teeth. She growled, stalking towards the cage and the ground beneath her seemed to tremble with each dreadful step.

“Do you have any idea of the price for your “sport,”?” she demanded, sword in her hand now. “Do you have any comprehension of all that you did?” She pointed the blade through the cage bars, her expression murderous. The very air seemed to vibrate with the strength of her rage. “You and your whore left me here,” she snarled, “You banished me here to this, this Court of Desolation-”

And suddenly every inch of the chamber was lit up once again with those fiery golden images, the history of two little girls and Belasco’s temptation. The little golden-haired maiden taking the apple from Belasco, the little dark-haired girl turning tail and running as fast as she could, her screams echoing drunkenly through the room. Except this time Stray could see the resemblance between the little golden-haired girl and their captor, see that clearly this was the woman she had become. Stray saw the realisation hit Logan’s face too , his mouth open, face ashen-

“Illyenka?” he said softly, his voice dropping in horror. “Little one, is that you?”

As suddenly as they had appeared the image of the two little girls disappeared, snuffed out like candles in a hurricane.

The only light in the chamber was the Empress- Illyenka’s- molten golden, rage filled eyes glittering in the dark.

“Don’t you even say that name,” she spat then, her sword slashing through the cage’s bars with one swift movement. Stray watched with horror as they laced themselves back together, apparently moving with a will of their own. “Illyenka died,” she was hissing. “You and that bitch Gold killed her-”

“We thought you must have been found by a wolf-pack.” Logan sounded slightly desperate. “Or maybe Latverius had picked you up: It was the year the King denounced the Cursed as outlaws and we thought you must have fallen prey to one of his gangs.” He shook his head, his expression heart-wrung, torn. In all her time with him Stray had never seen him as upset as he looked now. “We searched,” he said, “Me and Petya, ’Ro and Kitty. We tore the woods apart looking for Spark- for, for you-”

“And did you find me?” Illyenka hissed, pushing her face into his. “Did you find that other little maid that you abandoned to sport with Gold in the Summerland grass?”

“No.” And hurt, a sorrow too great for the telling of it darted across Logan’s face. For the first time since she had met him Stray thought he looked truly tired- Old. The fiery pictures on the walls reappeared and this time they showed the same memory Gold had forced Stray to experience in Shaw Manor. Showed the wolf in Logan and the firebird in Gold coupling, ignoring those two little girls in their love-play while they were stolen away. “We never found Spark,” Logan was saying softly. He reached his hand out as if to trace the face of the little dark-haired girl, the one with the amethyst eyes. “There was blood, the stench of magic- Remy, Red and Javier tried every spell they knew but magic cannot turn back death...” He threw Illyenka a humourless smile. “But then you were Katherine Shadowskin’s apprentice; You know how magic works.” And he broke their gaze, looking back over his shoulder. There was fear in his face as he looked at Stray, that same shame for his beast that had haunted him all these months. That same fear of himself that she’d never understood. “I know I should have been watching,” he told her quietly. “I know it was my mistake that led to, to-” He shook his head. Swallowed harshly as if he couldn’t fit even the thought of what had happened in his mouth. “That’s why I was so careful with you, cariad, that’s why I had to make sure you were safe,” he whispered. “Another girl dead because of me and that plague-bitch, I couldn’t bear it. I failed before, I wouldn’t fail again. I gave Javier my word when he broke me free of Gold-I, I promised him-”

And he turned from he bars, shaking his head mournfully. Made to walk back towards Stray, almost- Almost as if he were trying to find forgiveness in her arms.

But before he could he was halted: One of the bars slid loose, grabbing him. Spinning him on his heel and yanking him back towards the Empress- Illyenka- as easily as if it were picking up a feather or a mote of dust. The horned woman slipped something from beneath her gauntlet, its surface flashing brazen and wicked. In a split second a knife was beneath Logan’s chin, the point of it perfectly centred on the skin underneath his jaw as the bars of the cage held him in place. Again Belasco seemed to freeze. “I should gut you,” the woman murmured, her eyes turning black as night now. “I should flay the flesh from your bones- slowly- for what you’ve done to me.”

And she slid the knife across his skin, threading it with crimson. Though Stray knew it must be agonising Logan didn’t make a sound. She however couldn’t stifle her gasp of fear and Belasco smiled callously-

A smile lit Illyenka’s face that would have frightened the Dragon-Wraith himself.

“But there’s no need for that, is there, Logan?” she murmured, suddenly every inch the coquettish Empress. “I have your precious little spring maid here, and I’m sure I can think of plenty of things to do to her before either of you cease to be useful to me.” And she gestured to Stray, forcing her to rise up. Once again using her magic to command the girl’s body, the experience so much more humiliating to the spring maid now that her Sunlight Lock was in the room. Without her willing it Stray held her hand out to Belasco: Something that on another man would have looked a lot like panic flashed through Logan’s eyes and he tried to pull himself free from the bars. “Please, no,” he said. It wasn’t easy but she shifted himself closer to the dagger, let it dig further into him though it was hurting him. Illyenka gave a delighted little giggle in response. “She has done nothing to you, my Lady,” he muttered. “You’re angry at me- You’ve a right to be- But please leave her alone-”

The Empress smile widened, her expression becoming sly. “You truly love her, don’t you?” she murmured. “All that whining I had to listen to from Gold but I never thought you truly loved her.” She shook her head. “I always thought you were good for nothing but fighting and whoring, but here I find something so… worthwhile in you.

It really is quite a treat.”

And she gestured again, forcing Stray forwards. Without her wanting or meaning to she leaned upwards, presenting her lips through the bars to Belasco for a kiss. The wizard’s eyes shone gold as he reached down, bringing his mouth to hers. Stray cursing her skin for not hurting him, not punishing him, not killing him for what he was forcing her to do even as his tongue slid against her own. It was like that night in Illunis with Lord David, like every night before she met Logan. Her skin hissed in dissatisfaction at who was touching it but there seemed to be nothing Stray could do to make it right. Revulsion rose in the pit of her stomach, hot and sharp and clawing-

When Belasco pulled back he was smiling fully. “Your ascent, Majestrix,” he murmured, “Will be a most enjoyable…”

Quick as shadow Illyenka had her knife at his throat.

“Yes it will be- For me, whoreson.” Her eyes glittered. “Now fetch me Gold, Shaw and Frost, and we will begin the ceremony-”

She slashed the blade across the wizard’s face. “And don’t even think of making me wait.”

As always the wizard hastened to obey.