In his father’s territory, a security arrangement this sloppy would have earned someone a death sentence. Here, it was apparently standard procedure for protecting one of the wealthiest families on the planet.
The transport settled onto the landing pad with a gentlethump.Through the viewport, he could see a convoy of vehicles waiting—sleek black transports with tinted windows and the Duvain crest emblazoned on their doors. More guards stood in formation, their postures suggesting boredom rather than alertness.
Beside him, Ember drew a steadying breath. He caught her scent beneath the artificial fragrance of the ship’s recycled air—a hint of nervousness threaded through her usual sweetness. His beast stirred, wanting to pull her close, wanting to carry her away from this place of glass and steel and treachery.
Instead, he placed his hand at the small of her back and she leaned into the touch.
“Ready?” she asked.
“I’m ready.” He kept his voice low, pitched for her ears alone. “Stay close to me.”
The hatch opened with a mechanical hiss, and they stepped out into the afternoon light. The air hit him first—thick with unfamiliar smells, the acrid tang of exhaust fumes and industrial chemicals layered over something sweeter that might have been flowering plants. Nothing like the clean mountain air he’d grown accustomed to. His lungs protested the change, and he had to force himself not to wrinkle his nose.
Helena was already moving towards the lead vehicle, her tablet clutched like a weapon. “Miss Duvain, I’ve arranged for you to review the quarterly reports during transit. Your aunt has specifically requested?—”
“Helena.” Her voice was pleasant but unyielding. “I appreciate your efficiency, but I’ve already told you—I’ll address company matters when I’m ready.”
“But your aunt?—”
“Will wait.” Ember turned to where Tomas stood a few paces away, his weathered face carefully neutral. “Tomas, wouldyou accompany us to my quarters? I’d like to be briefed on household matters first.”
The old man inclined his head. “Of course, Miss Ember.”
Rykan watched Helena’s reaction with interest. Her jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. Her eyes, dark and calculating, flickered between Ember and him, obviously trying to assess their relationship. She was clearly accustomed to being obeyed, and equally clearly surprised to find her authority challenged.
Good,he thought.Let her wonder.
As they moved towards the waiting vehicles, he positioned himself slightly behind and to Ember’s right—close enough to intercept any threat, far enough to give her room to move if necessary. The guards fell into formation around them, but their arrangement was all wrong. Too clustered near the vehicles, leaving gaps in coverage. Too focused on the obvious approaches, ignoring the elevated positions that offered perfect sightlines for a sniper.
He filed away each deficiency, adding it to the growing list in his mind.
The transport’s interior was all polished leather and soft lighting, designed for comfort rather than security. He noted the lack of reinforced plating, the windows that were tinted but not armored, the absence of any obvious defensive systems. Anyone with a high-powered rifle could punch through this vehicle like paper.
Ember settled into the seat across from him, with Tomas beside her. Helena had been relegated to the front compartment withthe driver—a small victory that brought a flicker of satisfaction to his chest.
“The tower is approximately twenty minutes from here,” Tomas said quietly. “Traffic permitting.”
He turned his attention to the window, watching the landing fields give way to industrial complexes, then commercial districts, then the soaring towers of Port Cantor’s financial center. The city was overwhelming in its scale—millions of people packed into steel and glass hives, their lives playing out in spaces he could barely comprehend.
How does anyone live like this?
In the mountains, he’d known every rock, every tree, every game trail within a week’s walk of his cabin. Here, he was surrounded by strangers, hemmed in by structures that blocked his view of the sky. His beast paced restlessly beneath his skin, unsettled by the confinement.
But Ember was here. Ember needed him here.
That was enough.
The Duvain tower rose from the heart of the financial district like a blade of silver glass, its peak lost in the afternoon clouds. The convoy pulled into an underground entrance, descending through multiple levels of parking before reaching a private bay marked with the family crest.
More guards waited here, their formation marginally better than the ones at the landing field, but he spotted at least three obvious weak points in their coverage before the vehicle had fully stopped.
“Miss Duvain.” The guard commander stepped forward as they emerged from the transport—a tall man with silver threading through his dark hair and the bearing of someone accustomed to giving orders. His uniform was immaculate, decorated with insignia that probably meant something to humans but conveyed nothing to Rykan except an inflated sense of self-importance. “Welcome home. Your aunt has been informed of your arrival and requests?—”
“Thank you, Commander.” She cut him off smoothly. “Please inform my aunt that I’ll contact her once I’ve had a chance to rest.”
The commander’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Of course. I’ll have a security detail escort you to your quarters.”
“That won’t be necessary.” She gestured towards him. “I have my own security.”
