Chapter 1
Rafe is gone.
Those three words ran through my head like a fucking curse spelling my downfall. Tonight had been the dance. A time for celebration with many members of the monarchy in attendance.
It had ended in death and destruction. Earthquakes. Fire. Blood.
The resistance had attacked, and who the fuck even knew how many were dead now. Meghan. Claudette—I mean, I hated that bitch, but still… And then possibly Felipe, Rafe’s father.
Running a hand over my face, I tried to wipe off some of the blood. Somehow I’d collected my fair share since the bombs had gone off, but truthfully, that paled in the face of Rafe being stolen away from me.
Fucking hell!
It had taken many resistance members, and we’d all put up a good fight. But in the end, their numbers and technology had been too much for us to withstand. Not without an army of our own to meet them head to head.
“We should strip them of their uniforms,” Jordan said, bringing me back to the present. He was kneeling beside a black-clad resistance body, already removing the man’s tactical vest.
Looking down at the dead bodies strewn all around us, I got what he was saying. If we were going to pull off the ruse we’d set in motion with the one living resistance fighter who hadn’t made it back onto the chopper, then we had to play our parts.
“This one is about my size,” I said, moving toward one of the prone figures.
Jordan watched me with hooded eyes for a beat, and I knew what he saw: robot Violet. This was the face I wore when the world got too much for me and I needed a break from the emotions. It was my Violence persona amplified until I was barely flesh and blood.
This was how I would survive until we got Rafe back.
“Hurry up,” the resistance asshole, who was lucky to still be alive, hissed.
We might have made a deal with—aka threatened—him to get us into the compound that Rafe was being taken to, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t still kick his ass.
“One more fucking word,” I warned him, not in the mood. His eyes, the only part of his face I could see, went super wide, and I took that for his acknowledgement that I had reached the end of my patience today.
With a huff, I stripped the uniform off the dead woman before realizing I couldn’t get out of this dress myself.
“Need a little help?”
Jordan was at my back, hands resting on the bare skin above the laced section of my ball gown.
“Please.”
Normally this would have been the perfect opportunity to get a little naked and have some fun, but that was the last thing on either of our minds. His touch was quick and sure, and when the outfit loosened around me, I reached down for the black clothing of the resistance, shimmied into the pants, and then donned the shirt. Followed by her boots.
A black mask with two holes for the eyes was the final piece, and then Jordan and I shoved the near-naked people out of sight.
“They’re on the way,” fucker-with-a-death-wish murmured. “Code phrase to identify yourself when you enter is 'death to the monarchy.'"
Right…How original.
The sound of a helicopter closing in reached our ears. He leaned down and shouldered one of the remaining bodies still all in black and gestured for us to do the same with the others. “We don’t leave our dead behind,” he said.
Jordan and I both heaved a body onto our shoulders as well, and I tried not to panic that we could be walking right into a setup. I’d do it, no matter what, because I needed to get Rafe back. Just had to hope that before we were ambushed we at least made it to the resistance compound.
Rafe was worth the risk we were taking.
They’re waiting for you.
I hadn't forgotten those words. Hopefully it meant that no one would kill me on sight… There had to be a way to use it to my advantage and get my prince back.
Then I would make them fucking pay.
