“Whatever Lana has offered you?” His voice was suddenly harsh. Bitter. “Whatever it is, she’s lying. Or she plans to betray you. That is what shedoes.Do not let her control you or influence you. There is no room in her world for anyone but Lana.”
Swallowing, she hesitated before replying. “Noted.”
“My sister plays games within games. And those who trust her tend to end up dead.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Good lucktonight, Monica. Please…be careful. I would hate to see you get hurt.”
By the moons, that soundedreal.Either Mael was the best liar of the Nostrom clan, or hetrulywas giving in to feelings for his brother’s arranged wife.
It almost made her want to laugh. Instead, she summoned as much softness into her voice as she could. “I will, Mael. Thank you again.”
A click on the line signaled he had hung up. She did the same a second later, and flopped backward onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. With a groan, she pressed the heels of her hands against her cheekbones. The weight of her situation was starting to bear down on her like a physical force.
Trapped between three siblings, all trying to use her for their own ends.
One knew what she really was and had her.
One suspected what she was and wanted to use her.
And one seemed to justwanther.
She’d thought she’d been so clever, infiltrating the Nostrom family to destroy them from within. But now she was the one who felt destroyed—torn between vengeance and somethingelse.
Between her past and a future she could barely imagine.
As she finally got up and started preparing for the day’s chaos, one thought burned through her mind?—
I’m running out of time to choose a side.
Including my own.
Nadi crouched in the darkness of the Rosov estate’s eastern garden, the smell of night-blooming jasmine heavy in the air. The sweet scent mingled with the metallic tang of herfreshly sharpened knives—a combination that reminded her of perfumed death. Something she’d dealt with a great many times.
Also fitting, considering what they were here to do.
She repositioned herself behind an ornamental bush. She was wearing a form that she used on occasions like this—a muscular, slender human woman with dark hair and unremarkable features—perfect for blending into the background. That, coupled with simple black clothing, and the whole thing almost felt routine. Raziel had given her guff about howmundaneshe looked. But she’d simply rolled her eyes and told him it wasn’t her job to look sexy for him this evening. Her job was to kill.
“Braen’s not coming,” she muttered, barely audible even to herself.
Raziel was stationed behind a decorative column nearby, a shadow among shadows. “Patience, my little murderer. He’ll arrive.”
The moonlight caught his profile, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. Even after all that had happened, she couldn’t deny that he was beautiful—deadly and beautiful, like a perfectly crafted blade.
“We’ve been here for nearly two hours,” she replied, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the competing urges to either flee, stab him to death, or pin him to the ground and have her way with him. All options had their appeal.
“Which means we’re closer to success than we were two hours ago.” His low voice carried a hint of amusement that set her teeth on edge.
“Easy for you to say. But I can’t feel my feet anymore.”
He glanced at her, those crimson eyes faintly luminous in the darkness. “It will be worth it.”
Nadi fell silent, her thoughts turning to the competing offers from Mael and Lana. One brother and one sister, both offeringher a place at the vampire court if she betrayed Raziel. Why did everyone in this family insist on playing games with each other’s lives? The Nostroms were a pit of vipers, and she had somehow found herself swimming in their midst.
“I believe it is time for you to finally tell me the truth.”
She huffed a half-laugh. “Like you’re telling me all your schemes. Be reasonable, Raziel.”
His movement was too fast to track. One moment he was several feet away, the next he was directly in front of her, his face inches from hers, one hand wrapped around her throat—not squeezing, but present. A reminder of what he was capable of.
“There’s something you should understand about our situation, Nadi.” His breath was warm against her face, smelling of rich wine and something metallic. Blood. “I don’t share my true plans with anyone. Not even you.”
