Jasper shifts in his sleep, tightening his hold on her.
I sit up slowly, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “It was me.”
Talon sits up too. “You asked him.”
Not a question.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out rough. “I planted it. Told him that if Mara was going back to her family events, the only way to guarantee containment was to put us on her detail. Said outsiders would draw too much attention—paparazzi, rumors, leaks. Said OCK already had history with her, so it looked organic, natural. Less suspicious than random Secret Service upgrades.”
“And he bought it.”
“He bought it because it made sense to him—control through proximity. He thinks he’s keeping her on a shorter leash by putting us in charge. Thinks we’re still his loyal little soldiers.”
Jasper stirs then, eyes cracking open. He doesn’t speak, just watches me, reading every line of tension in my body.
Talon leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You tested him.”
“Yeah. I needed to know if he’d pull the string—if he still had the reach. If he was one of the three.”
The room goes dead still.
Jasper sits up slowly, careful not to wake Mara. He signs one sharp word, “And?”
I meet his eyes, then Talon’s.
I lean forward, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve known for years. Overheard him when I was sixteen, saw the ledger. I didn’t have proof—real proof—until now. Until he moved the pieces exactly like I knew he would.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I didn’t want to believe it,” I say. “And because if I was wrong, I’d have burned everything down for nothing. But I wasn’t wrong.”
“So, what now?” Talon says.
I look back at Mara—our girl, asleep and trusting between us, completely unaware that the war just got personal.
“Now,” I say quietly, “we use the leash he thinks he put on her... and choke him with it.”
I reach back, threading my fingers through hers where they rest on the sheet.
Whatever it costs.
Whatever I have to become.
I’ll end him.
For her.
TWENTY
JASPER
I’ve always been good at watching. It’s a skill born of necessity, honed by years of silence that made observation my primary language. It’s also something I prefer doing because it’s when I can see people at their most vulnerable.
“—and then Dredyn just stares at the barista in disbelief as the man lists off the different types of milk they have,” Talon says.
“Once you tell me where the fuck the tit is on a nut, talk to me about different milks. There’s too many!”
Mara laughs, her head tilting back in that unguarded way she does when she feels safe. The morning light catches the curve of her throat, and warmth spreads through my chest. Talon leans closer, while Dredyn sits on Mara’s other side, absently playing with a strand of her hair.
