“If you really want to help, you can help me send a message to someone.”
I stare at her for a few seconds. “Does this have anything to do with the rumors I’ve heard about how you were involved with someone from this world?”
Myriad emotions dance across Olivia’s face, and she stiffens. “How much did Mason tell you?”
“He didn’t tell me anything, and I didn’t push.”
Olivia’s eyes move over my face. “It’s true. I was involved with someone. I don’t know if our history will help end this war, but I think it’s a worth shot.”
“Mason doesn’t approve, does he?”
Olivia grimaces. “You know how he can be. Overprotective to a fault, but he needs help, and he’s too proud and stubborn to admit it. He’ll be keeping a close eye on me, so you’ll have to help me establish a line of communication.”
I taste bile in the back of my throat. “You want me to lie to him?”
“Unless you have any other suggestions.”
I blow out a breath. “That depends. What do you want me to do?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mason
“I’m fine,” I repeat. “You need to stop hovering.”
“I’m your sister,” Olivia snaps. “It’s part of my job to hover.”
I snort, and my hand moves to my ribs, where a tender bruise has been stitched together. “How long have I been out?”
“A few hours,” Olivia replies after a brief pause. “You gave us quite a scare.”
I sit up straighter and frown. “How did you know I was in trouble?”
Olivia pauses, and her eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean?”
“The men who got us here—”
“We didn’t send anyone, Mason.” Olivia shakes her head. “We would have if we had known, but we had no idea anything was wrong until Carlisle and Katia showed up carrying you, all three of you covered in blood and looking like death warmed over.”
I press my lips together and say nothing.
“You were pretty out of it when I saw you. Mathew said you were rambling about another traitor.” Olivia’s voice is hushed. “Do you have any idea who it is?”
“No, but it’s only a matter of time before I find out.”
The fact that it might be someone I share a last name with only makes things worse.
Especially after the ambush that I barely escaped.
Whoever is helping the enemy is out for blood, and they’re not pulling any punches.
Are you really going to pretend it’s not Mathew? You know he wants to get rid of you, and this is the perfect way to do it. Lay the blame on Michael and the Fitzpatricks, and give himan excuse to launch a full-scale war. It’s exactly the kind of he would do. The real question is whether he acted with Father’s support.
I’d seen the look on my father’s face when he’d stepped out a few minutes ago to take a call.
It hadn’t looked like the face of a man who had suffered defeat.
I’d even caught the worried gleam in his eyes seconds before he snuffed it out.
