“And?” Aeson’s hard stare roves over his brother’s face, looking for clues.
Lorn’s brow furrows. “She lied to me,” he answers, but he sounds more perplexed than pissed.
“Selik pick something up?” Aeson queries.
“No. She used my name,” Lorn explains, and I freeze. “She said something about Novak misunderstanding things, but then she called me Lorn. She doesn’t do that. She calls me Heir, or Scion, or some other derivative,notmy name.”
Flustered by his words, I think back to what happened in the vault and start to comb through it, searching for the part of the conversation he’s talking about. My heart starts to hammer even harder in my chest until all I can hear is the resonant clang of it in my ears.
Double shit.
He’s right. I did. I used his name when I was trying to redirect him around thesisterconversation.
Stupid fucking mistake, Ever.
And here I was thinking I was in the clear.
“What do you think it means?” Aeson asks as he runs the back of his fingers against the scruff lining his jaw.
Lorn blows out a contemplative breath. “I think she knows there are others out there. I think she’s protecting them.”
Slowly Aeson nods his agreement. “She doesn’t feel safe here or trust us. She’s not going to risk anyone else until that changes. Can’t say I blame her. We’d do the same thing in her shoes.”
“How many do you think are out there?” Lorn wonders.
Aeson grunts and rubs his cheek. “Can’t be that many. If all the Syphon males were able to sire at least one child, we’d be looking at less than forty. But I doubt that’s the case. If I had to guess, I’d say no more than twenty, maybe twenty-five if we’re lucky.”
Fifteen, I correct in my head.
Fifteen of us survived that night.
Lorn nods, his gaze considering. “Anything new on the Oric?”
Aeson lets loose a frustrated sigh. “Nothing. No sign of a struggle anywhere. Her quarters show she left the following morning and never made it home that night. Nothing on any of her devices shows any calls, messages, or anything else even remotely suspicious. Nothing has moved in any of her accounts. She’s just…gone.”
“Running?” Lorn theorizes.
My brow furrows and a foreboding prickle settles over me.
“Maybe, but why? As long as she kept her mouth shut about Ever, she wasn’t in any danger, and everything up until her disappearance indicates that she didn’t tell a soul. I think she’s dead, but if that’s true, we have a massive security breach. My best guys can’t find anything that would indicate even a whisper of that though, and if it were there, they’d find it.”
A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. They’re not talking about some random Oric. They’re talking about the one that tested me my first night here. Tahir. She confirmed that I was a Syphon, and now she’s missing?
Somewhere out of frame I hear a door open and close. Both Aeson and Lorn stop talking and look over at whoever just joined them.
“Sorry I’m late,” a commanding voice declares. “Damian Cesarini cornered me after the cabinet meeting.” The voice grows louder as the owner moves closer to where the two scions are sitting.
“What did he want?” Aeson enquires with a derisive snort.
“Funny you should ask. He made a fine offer for your hand.”
And with that, King Noctis strides into frame, an amused smile on his face while his lined blue eyes survey his youngest son.
My heart can’t decide if it wants to stop altogether or kick into overdrive, because, holy fuck, I’m pretty sure the Syphon Glass I’m currently connected to is located in the king’s tower.
I have direct access to the King of The Dragon Horde, and nobody knows.
This. Changes. Everything.
