The cells beneath Crescent Hollow were the same ones Damien had once held my mother in. I hadn't been down to them since we took the pack. I found I didn't want to go now. But the rogue dark was Roan's country, and there was no map to it but the man himself, so down I went, with Cain beside me and the bond drawn tight between us.
Roan looked up when we came. Twenty years of Ironfang leather traded for a prisoner's plain shirt, wrists chained, and he still managed to look like the most dangerous thing in the room. He always would. That was the trouble with him.
"The rogue king and his Luna," he said. "Come to the dungeon at the dead hour. I'd say it's like old times, but in old times I'd have been the one who arranged it." A thin smile. "You need something. You wouldn't come otherwise. Le
