“And you?” She still had my blood caked on her clothes and body.
“I look likeIbattled in the arena. I’m going to get cleaned up too. Meet you in the conference room?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I told her.
She nodded, then slipped away, her scent trailing after her, a thread of honey and roses.
The staff had assigned me a guest suite. I guess it was a bit macabre for me to take Dominic’s chamber while his body was barely cold. I didn’t care. This room was opulent, with velvet curtains and a huge shower with several showerheads. I stepped in, let the water run as hot as I could stand. For a long time, I just stood there, waiting to see if the blood on my hands would ever come off. It didn’t. Not that it could be seen. The stain was inmy bones.
When the hot water scalded away the last of the surface pain, I stepped out and looked at myself in the mirror. The face staring back at me was a horror even though the healer did a good job and things were looking and feeling better. My left eye was swollen, but at least I could see out of it now. Jaw was puffy like I had a rotten tooth, my scar looking more silver than usual. The split places on my lips had closed, so at least I’d be able to eat without too much discomfort. My chest and arms were crosshatched with new bruises, the color of twilight on a battlefield.
But there was no wound over my heart, just the perfect oval of fresh skin, paler than the rest of me. I stared at it, wondering if the angel had left anything behind—a message, maybe, or a ticking bomb. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was now a haunted house, and something old and divine had moved in for good.
I dressed in the clothes provided by the staff: dark jeans, black button-down, boots of the most expensive leather. Everything fit better than I expected, but I felt like a child in his father’s best suit, pretending at adulthood.
Before I left the room, I pressed my palm over my heart,expecting to feel the echo of the knife. There was nothing. Only a steady, perfect pulse. I let my hand linger a moment longer, then turned and walked out, ready to face whatever came next.
The conference room was dressed for a feast, but it looked more like a wake. Someone had laid out platters of roast meats and cheeses, silver urns of coffee, and trays of rolls that steamed in the ambient heat from the chandeliers. Everyone feasted. This was a hard-won celebration. I was fortunate to be alive, and everyone was damn happy I was. At leastmypeople were. And though the wine flowed, serious discussions had to take place, so moderation was the word of the night.
Savannah was already there, hunched at the table next to Bronc and Juliet. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she wore a stylish long dark green long sleeve emerald color dress. Whoever dressed her recognized she was indeed their queen. She gave me a small nod when I entered, but her eyes skipped past mine. I recognized the look. It was the same one I wore after every op that left bodies and headlines in its wake: Don’t touch me, I’m radioactive. She’d mount me on the goddamn conference table if she could. I couldn’t help but grin. My mate. Fuck. She was every good and fierce thing in my life. I made a beeline straight for her and kissed her hard. I didn’t give two fucks who saw. And she kissed me right back.
The Council Chairwoman stood at the head of the table, all sharp angles and silver hair, her eyes like two holes punched in heavy paper. She raised a glass—not to the victor, but as if she needed something physical to keep her upright. She cleared her throat.
“Let the record show the Eastern throne stands empty,” she announced; no preamble, no time for anyone to catch up. “Declan Calloway, by Council order, will be put to death by public execution at sunrise for the murder of Bridger Hardin, Vice President of the Iron Valor Pack. His resurrection notwithstanding. His son, Callum Calloway, is now a fugitive, wanted for conspiracy and the murder of witch Moira Blackthorn. All parties should update their records accordingly.”
The words rippled down the table like a chemical spill. At the far end, Rafe sat with his arms folded, impassive, the muscle at his jawline ticking every time the Chairwoman uttered a new fact. He was playing the long game, but his scent betrayed him—he reeked of pride and fury, and I couldn't tell which weighed heavier.
Juliet reached for Savannah’s hand and led her to the table. I followed her and Bronc. I took my seat to the right of the Council Chairwoman, Bronc to her left. Savannah sat next to me with Juliet next to her. Juliet leaned over Savannah to me. “Is it true?”She whispered, eyes flicking to me and back. “They’re going to execute him?”
I nodded. “He’s not getting up this time.”
Savannah flinched at that, but she didn’t cry. Instead, she stared at the centerpiece—a twisted arrangement of black calla lilies and bone-white roses—and I could see her inventorying every moment of her father’s life that led to this. There wasn’t enough space in the world for that sort of math.
The Chairwoman cleared her throat again, bringing the room back to order. “Mr. Hardin, you are entitled to claim the spoils of victory—title, territory, and all assets. You may also decline, in which case the Council will appoint a new Alpha for the Midwest Kingdom. Either way, you must decide tonight. Protocol.”
I shrugged, then looked at Savannah. “It’s your choice, too,” I said, voice soft. “If you want out, now’s the time.”
She finally met my eyes. “I’m not leaving you,” she said, and I believed her. “But… my family—my mother and Griffin—they need to know. Can I have a minute?” The last word was a plea, and the Chairwoman waved her off with a flick of her hand.
Savannah took Juliet’s phone and left the room. Through the glass panel, I watched her shoulders shake as she dialed. I felt every emotion she was experiencing through our bond. The most remarkable was relief. There wasn’t really any grief to be found. Fear was the most troubling. I felt that fear when she told her mother that Callum was missing, then joy when she shared she was safe. Finally, there was so much hope when she told her mother that nothing would ever be the same. I double-checked with the Council Chairwoman that Savannah’s mother and brother were under the protection of the Council until Callum was found. She assured me that their estate was under heavy guard.
I turned my attention to Bronc. He poured two fingers of whiskey into his coffee and drank it in one swallow. “Never saw you as the king type,” he said, grinning like it hurt. “Thought you’d stick to the MC until your liver gave out.”
I shrugged again, then clapped him on the shoulder. “I thought I’d have more time to disappoint you.”
He snorted, but his eyes were red. “You’ll make a fine king. Just don’t forget about us. How you gonna handle living with all these Yankees?”
I bellowed a laugh at that. “Fuck, I don’t know, man. What are they gonna do when I have a big ol’ Texas barbecue out on that pristine back lawn?”
Juliet leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial hush. “When you’re in charge, will you finally outlaw polyester blends? Half the Council dresses like they’re headed to a job interview at the DMV.”
“Council’s got bigger problems,” I said. “First order of business: not getting murdered by the next psycho with a knife and an inferiority complex.”
The Chairwoman rapped her knuckles on the table, impatience fraying her calm. “We need to address the matter of evidence. The video that aired during the challenge—exposing Declan’s treachery—originated from inside the Council’s own surveillance system. We want to know who provided it, and why.”
Every face turned toward the screen on the far wall, frozen on the last frame of the broadcast: Callum passing a vial of blood to the witch. The air in the room thickened. A predator’s pause before the kill.
No one spoke, so I did. “Someone wanted to expose a corrupt king. Any number of people on the Council could have simply wanted the truth out, maybe just a bored tech with a sense of justice. Doesn’t matter. It’s done. There are lots of families who deal in secrets, and everyone knows it.” Of course, the only family that truly deals in secrets is the Kozlovs. They are the only supernatural mafia family represented on the Council.
