“What thefuckis she doing here?” Greyson snarled, and Maximus’s head snapped toward him.
Maximus didn’t need to say a single word, the look he gave his son from behind his mask was enough for the warmth to be sucked from the room. Every fist clenched, every hair stood straight, as if they all were preparing to attack, preparing to rip out tendons and shred skin.
The President waited until the silence had grown its own beating heart, until the nerves and violence had leached all the color from their faces. Then he steepled his fingers together and spoke.
“You will be married next week, in a public Vow ceremony. To each other.”
It took Shadera a full three seconds to process the words. Then it registered—every molecule of vitriol igniting in a single searing line down her throat.
“Fuck no,” she spat.
“Not happening.” Greyson’s reply overlapped hers, but it was no softer.
Maximus’s hand twitched in amusement. “You misunderstand. This is not a request. It is the only solution left to preserve order. Now, both of you, sit.”
Shadera’s gaze darted to Greyson, searching for some sign that this was a trick, a trap, a hallucination conjured by the pain leaking through her blood. But he was as stunned as she was, blue eyes hollow behind the obsidian mask.
“Now.” The word was a command from the President’s mouth and Shadera choked back the bile rising in her throat from the thought of following his orders.
Greyson moved first, taking the few steps left to the chair at her right, and reluctantly fell into it. A muscle in Shadera’s jaw jumped once before she finally moved, before she obeyed and sunk down in the chair beside him.
Maximus’s mask gleamed as he leaned forward. “If the world learns that the Heart’s Executioner removed his mask for a Daggermouth, the foundation of our society will collapse. The law is absolute. Only the Vow sanctifies that exchange.”
Greyson clenched his jaw. “It was an accident. She was trying to kill me.”
Shadera scoffed, her eyes narrowing on him. “You took your mask off like a littlebitc—”
The President’s hand shot into the air, silencing her before she could finish spewing the long list of profanities piling on the tip of her tongue, and ignored her insult.
“History is not made by accidents, Greyson. It is made by consequences.” Maximus turned to Shadera. “You will be granted the status of elite. The first of your kind. And through you, the rings will see that even the worst animal can be tamed by the Heart. That even a Daggermouth can turn against their own.”
“I would rather kill myself than marry him,” Shadera answered, her voice so sharp it left her throat raw.
Maximus’s laugh was soft, almost pitying. “Then you will die. But not before I send your precious rings to hell. I will burn every Daggermouth in the Boundary, every rebel, and their ashes will fertilize my gardens. Is that what you want for your people?”
Her people.His words echoed in her skull.
Who the hell did they think she was to the rings?
Shadera swallowed, the threat landing as he’d intended. She knew he’d do it, that he’d level an entire ring just to make a point.
Greyson spoke up, his voice tight. “This is insane. You want to marry me to the woman who tried to assassinate your own blood? Who nearly ended the legacy you claim to worship?”
“It is poetic,” Maximus replied, “don’t you think?” He turned his head, letting the light catch the perfect planes of his golden face. “What better way to demonstrate that the Heart’s will cannot be challenged. Not by love, not by hate, not even by violence.”
Shadera watched as Greyson winced then straightened. “This dishonors Brooker’s memory. He died by a Daggermouth’s hand.”
Her head snapped toward him, surprise flashing across her features. She would’ve known if it was a Daggermouth that killed the first heir. It would’ve been celebrated. “How do you know it was a Daggermouth?”
Greyson didn’t so much as look at her as he responded. “Because the contract accepted and signed by Jaeger Nolin was displayed on his body when it was left for us to find in the center of the Heart.”
For a moment the entire world seemed to recede into that one terrible fact. Shadera let the knowledge settle in, and a strange calm spread through her. She could almost laugh, and, in fact, her lips did twitch at the corners, the beginnings of a feral smile.
She wished that contract had been hers.
Maximus cut the silence. “You will have one week, six days precisely, to come to terms with this decision. Until then, you will reside together in Greyson’s apartment, under surveillance to . . . get to know one another. If either of you attempts to break the arrangement, the consequences will be instant and absolute.”
He pressed a button under the desk, and a section of wall rotated to reveal a massive display. The screen flickered to life, showing a grainy image of a man moving through the Boundary’s alleys. His stride was instantly recognizable.
