“Yes.” She rubbed her temples again, trying to ease the persistent ache. “And I walked right into her trap. I was so focused on my studies, so determined to prepare myself to take over the company someday, that I never noticed what was happening right under my nose.”
“You trusted your family. That’s not a failing.”
“Isn’t it?” She laughed bitterly. “I trusted her with my father’s legacy. I trusted her with my life. And she repaid that trust by trying to kill me.”
He leaned forward, his golden eyes intent on her face. “You survived. You’re here now, preparing to fight back. That’s what matters.”
Before she could respond, the door chime sounded and Tomas entered bearing a covered tray.
“Forgive the interruption, Miss Ember, but you’ve been working for hours without sustenance.” The old man set the tray on aside table and began uncovering dishes. “I took the liberty of preparing something from the kitchen.”
Her stomach growled audibly at the aroma—roasted meat, some kind of grain dish, and vegetables in a rich sauce that smelled of herbs and butter. Two platters of perfectly cut and arranged fruit accompanied the meal, along with a small tray of her favorite desserts. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment.
“Thank you, Tomas. You always know exactly what I need.”
She rose from her chair, stretching muscles that had stiffened from hours of sitting, and moved towards the food. Rykan followed, his presence a warm shadow at her back.
“Has there been any word from my aunt?” she asked as Tomas set out plates on the small dining table in the window nook.
“No, Miss Ember.” The old man’s expression was carefully neutral. “Lady Marina has not attempted to contact you since your arrival.”
Interesting.
She considered that as she settled into a chair and began filling her plate. Marina knew she was here—the commander at the landing field would have reported immediately, and Vartel’s dismissal had certainly reached her ears by now. Yet she hadn’t come to welcome her wayward niece home, hadn’t sent so much as a message inquiring about her health or expressing relief at her survival.
She’s waiting,Ember realized.She expects me to come to her, to seek her guidance, to defer to her authority. That’s howit always was before—I would go to her with questions or concerns, and she would graciously offer her wisdom.
The pattern was so familiar that she might have fallen into it without thinking, if not for everything that had happened on the mountain. If not for the evidence she’d uncovered in her escape pod’s logs.
“Tomas.” She kept her voice casual, as if the thought had just occurred to her. “If anyone asks, perhaps you could let it be known that I’m feeling unwell after my ordeal. Too exhausted to receive visitors tonight.”
Understanding flickered in the old man’s eyes. “Of course, Miss Ember. The trauma of your experience would naturally require rest and recovery. I’ll ensure that anyone who inquires is informed of your… delicate condition.”
“Thank you.”
Tomas bowed slightly and withdrew, leaving them alone with the meal.
He watched her with an expression of mingled approval and curiosity. “You’re playing her game.”
“I’m refusing to play by her rules.” She took a bite of the roasted meat—perfectly seasoned, melting on her tongue. “She wants me to come crawling to her, grateful for her guidance and eager to hand over the reins. Instead, I’ll make her wait. Let her wonder what I’m thinking, what I’m planning. Let her come to me if she wants to know.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll walk into that board meeting tomorrow without having given her any indication of my intentions.” She smiled,though there was little warmth in it. “She’s spent years learning to predict me, to manipulate me. But I’m not the same person I was before. I wonder how she’ll react when she discovers that.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the food disappearing steadily as their bodies demanded fuel after the long day. She found herself watching Rykan as he ate—the swift economy of his movements, the way he seemed constantly aware of his surroundings even while focused on his meal.
He’d been magnificent today. Taking charge of security without hesitation, dismissing her aunt’s creatures with the same ruthless efficiency he’d shown when fighting the adyani in the mountains. He belonged in this world of power and politics far more than she would have expected—or perhaps it was simply that the skills required to survive as a Vultor alpha weren’t so different from those needed to navigate corporate warfare.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, catching her gaze.
“That I’m glad you’re here.”
Something softened in his expression. “There’s nowhere else I would be.”
When the meal was finished, she rose and held out her hand to him. He took it, his large fingers engulfing hers, and she led him through the penthouse towards the suite’s private bathroom.
The space was ridiculous, really—larger than the entire cabin they’d shared in the mountains. The floor was pale marble veined with gold, warm beneath her bare feet from the heating system embedded within the stone. A sunken tub dominated the center of the room, large enough to swim in, surrounded by bottles of oils and salts and fragrances that she’d rarely bothered to use. A glass-enclosed shower lined one wall, multiple headspromising cascades of water from every angle. Soft lighting gave the space an intimate glow, reflecting off polished surfaces and gleaming fixtures.
