“What about your grandmother?” I ask, and Leigh shoots me a death glare. But then she pauses. I can practically see thewheels turning in her head. Don betrayed her, so why wouldn’t Jorina?
“Hmm,” Leigh muses, her brow furrowed. “My grandmother knows about my intentions with the Lunar Witches. But why betray me? She has nothing to gain.” She goes silent. But then adds, “Janus wasn’t at the meeting tonight . . .”
The hair on the back of my neck lifts. “Leigh, you should talk to Jorina and Janus before you drive yourself mad with conspiracy theories,” I say. “They might’ve advised you to pause on your Lunar Witch endeavors, but assisting Stellan seems brash.”
“True, but what should I think, given the circumstances? Someone is betraying me and the Council, and until we learn who, the Council will be at odds. It’s what Stellan wants.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Leigh.”
“The president is purposely being vague, Borealis is in shambles, and Stellan Navis, who is intent on sowing division, has declared that he’s running for mayor. What am I supposed to do, Wilder? I can’t deal with everything happening here and what’s happening there. But someone has to stop him. Another article, and I am afraid he’ll push us all over the edge.”
I nod. Leigh’s right. Someone needs to deal with Stellan and see to the power outage issues, but she can’t be in two places at once. I don’t want to go, but Leigh needs someone she trusts to align Aurora with Borealis. I fear that if Stellan continues to post his rhetoric, he may achieve the support of all Nebula there and here, at the cost of angering a lot of influential Epsilon. They won’t stay quiet for long. And when they retaliate, it won’t be pretty.
“I’ll do it.” Leigh’s eyes widen at my words. “I’ll go to Aurora, tend to the power outages, and find Stellan.”
“And get him to shut down his paper?” she asks, a hopeful note in her voice.
“Technically, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” I tell her.
Leigh groans, rubbing her temples. “Stellan is turning all the Nebula people against me.” My heart aches for her. “He is running for mayor, building his platform by taking me down.”
“Let me talk to him. I used to live in Aurora. I have friends there. They will help me find him, and when I do, I can convince him that if he keeps publishing those articles, he will have a civil war on his hands.”
Leigh isn’t looking at me anymore. Her equerry is walking up the stairs.
“Yes?” she asks the tall, decorated woman, her voice hard.
“There’s someone here to see you,” the equerry says. Leigh and I exchange wary glances.
“Now?” My hand instinctively reaches for my weapon.
Leigh notices and rolls her eyes. “Who?”
“A representative from Lua.”
My eyes narrow at the equerry’s reply.
“Lua? The wolves?” Leigh purses her lips.
“But why now?” I ask. Of course, they show up when the city is at its most vulnerable. They could mean her harm, but Leigh is already heading down the stairs.
“Leigh! Wait,” I protest, but my phone rings. It’s Soter. Goddammit. It could be about Janus. “Fuck.” I point at the equerry. “Alert the guards if you haven’t already. Stay with her.”
“It’s my job to keep her safe. I suggest you do yours,” the equerry says, then she hastens after Leigh.
With Janus missing in action, Stellan’s rising influence, and now the wolves at our door, I fear we’re in for a rough ride and not the enjoyable kind.
As I makemy way toward the throne room, shadows press in. With each step, my mind races.
Lua is already at my doorstep, and the fact I had no idea they were even in my country has me jumping at every little sound. It isn’t as if I’m alone—there are always numerous attendants inside the palace. My equerry traipses behind me. Her breathing is loud in the heavy silence. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ward off the cold that emanates from within, but it is useless. My world is crumbling.
I nod to my equerry, then step inside the throne room to meet Lua’s representative.
The large gold-painted walls gleam before me. Sizable chandeliers hang from the sloped ceilings, and crystal sconces catch the moonlight. Mirrored walls scatter its brilliance in dazzling patterns. During the day, they reflect sunshine pouring in from outside, filling the room with otherworldly light. My breath catches in my throat.
A stranger sits upon my throne.
His posture is relaxed and confident, as if he belongs there. He is a reed-like man, perhaps in his late twenties, with thick, short, coal-black hair, and golden-brown skin. His heavy threaded clothes, more suitable for the northern climate, are out of place here, but they mold to his body like a second skin. Heappears to be talking to himself, yet that’s not the strangest thing about him.
