“Great,” I say. “Neither am I.”
Talon exhales slowly through his nose. “You know what I hate about you?” Talon pushes off the pillar, stopping right in front of Chase. “It’s not the fact that you’re a murderer—I’m actually very flexible on that as a character trait.”
Chase swallows.
Talon crouches so they’re eye level. “It’s the confidence,” Talon goes on. “This delusion that you’re untouchable because some old man you’ve never even met signed your permission slip to exist.”
Chase wets his lips. “You don’t get to moralize?—”
Talon slaps him, and his head swings sideways, the corner of his mouth now split. “I get to do whatever the fuck I want right now,” Talon says quietly.
He grips Chase’s jaw, turning his face back to face him. “You think power is inherited?” Talon murmurs. “You think it’s a name on a ledger?” He leans closer. “Power is proximity to violence, and you are drowning in it. You killed Evangeline and thought that would save you,” he snaps.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chase sneers. “I never wanted to kill Evie, I had to. Politics get messy, Steele. You of all people should understand that. Your precious Mara will,too, when she’s First Daughter. She’s not going to stay your little campus obsession forever.”
Talon slams both hands onto the chair’s arms, boxing him in.
“Say her name again, and I’ll take your tongue first.”
Chase goes silent.
Talon straightens, rolling his shoulders. “You want us to believe you’re shaking because of some faceless god in a suit?” He laughs softly. “Here’s the problem, Chase. You’re not protecting him.”
Chase frowns.
“You’re protecting you—your future, your legacy.” He pauses, then continues. “You’re scared because if we find him, that all blows up in your face. You go bye-bye.”
He grips Chase’s hair and tilts his head back. “A disposable little failure who killed the wrong girl and thought blood would make him somebody.”
Chase gasps in pain.
“You don’t matter to the Syndicate. You’re not a prince, you’re a pawn.” Talon growls. Then, he releases him with a shove.
Chase pants.
“You really think he cares if you live?” Talon continues. “Or die? Or rot in a hole under a frat house where frat boys turn you into a scavenger hunt of missing body parts?”
Chase’s voice cracks. “He’ll come for you.”
“Oh? Who, exactly?”
“You’re not protected just because you’re Omega Chi officers.”
Talon glances back at me. “You hear that?”
I nod. “Delusion?”
“Full-blown,” Talon confirms, then he turns back to Chase. “They won’t come for us,” Talon says gently. “If we cut your throat right now, the Syndicate wouldn’t even pause mid-sip.”
Chase’s breathing grows ragged.
“You really don’t get it,” Talon murmurs. “You were never chosen.”
Chase shakes his head. “No—no, I?—”
Talon reaches out, his thumb pressing into an open wound on Chase’s chest.
Chase screams.
