She scoffs, but her eyes betray the storm. “Because you’re accusing one of the only men in my life who never tried to control me.”
Irrational fury boils at the idea of Valen being her safe harbor, at her for defending him, at us for being the wolves she chose over the light. We’re the monsters, possessive and cracked, but she cracked us wider.
“If he’s clean, proving it shields him.” I trace her jaw with my thumb. “The Syndicate loves those plays. Old friends make perfect pawns.”
She’s not glass—fragile and waiting to shatter. She’s steel, forged in fire, and I need her blade-sharp now.
She paces, conflict carving lines in her face—doubt warring with loyalty, desire clashing with dread. Finally, she stops,locking eyes with mine. “Fine. I’ll handle it. Alone. No bullying, no shadows. He’ll know what’s up if he’s a part of everything.”
Dredyn slips in from the hall then. “She isn’t going alone.”
I cut him a look. “If we go in hot, he’ll clam up. If he’s innocent, we torch the bridge anyway.”
Mara turns her head to look at me. “And if he’s not?”
Hesitation grips me, brief and cold. “Then we know our next mark.” The words taste like blood. It’s a promise of violence, of unraveling the Syndicate thread by thread, starting with the ghost in her past.
The air thickens, charged with the unspoken—betrayal’s edge, obsession’s grip. We stand there, a triangle of tension, the hunt closing in. Valen’s name hangs like smoke, and I feel the feral pull. College kid turned predator, clawing for the throne. One wrong word, and I’ll tear it all down for her.
Always for her.
FIFTEEN
MARA
My leg bounces erratically under the table at the coffee shop, my boot heel tapping in a frantic rhythm, my hands wrapped around a mug that’s gone lukewarm.
He said he would be here twenty minutes ago.
The boys wouldn’t truly let me go alone. Not after the last time I saw Valen, when he put a gun to my head and Jasper had to intervene. Which is why CJ is in the corner, pretending to read a book while keeping his gaze on me. I can’t say I blame the boys, but they need to trust me.
The bell chimes, the wind howling as snow and Valen both enter the small shop. He is ruinously beautiful, wrapped tightly in a wool coat, his hair tousled wild and his storm-gray eyes softening the moment they land on me.
He weaves through the scattered tables, dodging a barista with a tray of steaming lattes, and slides into the booth across from me. “Hello, Mara. I see you chose somewhere public today.”
“Last time we were in private, you put a gun to my head.”
His smile falters. Just barely.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry, I clocked CJ the second I walked in. Guy’s about as subtle as a brick. Youwanted to talk—here I am.” He flags the barista and orders a black coffee with no sugar. “If you think I’m going to apologize to you for doing what was right, then we are wasting our time here.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Your dad.” I pause and wait for his facial expression. “Your real one, not the decoy. Is he running the Syndicate?”
The warmth drains instantly, face shuttering like storm clouds swallowing sun. Denial flashes in his gaze. “Jesus, Mara. Where’s this coming from?” He leans back, arms crossing loosely in front of his chest. “Loud. Blond. Tech bro who laughs too hard at his own jokes. You really thinkthatman runs an international criminal network?”
“He doesn’t look like you,” I say.
He tries to change the subject. “You’re seeing monsters because your new ones are whispering in your ear. Talon? Dredyn? Jasper? They’re making you paranoid—isolating you. Mara, that’s textbook toxic behavior.”
Anger flares hot with a possessive defense for the boys. I lean forward, grabbing his wrist hard from across the table. His pulse leaps rabbit-fast under thumb. “You don’t get to diagnose anyone after aiming a gun at me. We were eight when you told me about Victoria, your twin sister. You made me swear to be silent with a pinky promise under the oak tree.”
His breath catches, just once.
“She’s dead now,” I continue. “And everyone keeps telling me different stories. Delta Sigma Nu. A jealous frat boy. A convenient scapegoat.” I tighten my grip. “But the Syndicate prunes rebellious daughters, Valen. Victoria. Evie. Xana. And me... if I don’t play pawn for long enough.”
