Page 147 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

“Where—”

“Your lordling is at the council meeting. Has been since dawn.” Kitty pulls me upright. My head swims with the movement. I have to close my eyes against a wave of nausea that threatens to empty my stomach. “He’s swearing his oaths of servitude to the Queen.”

The memories crash back all at once. Ballroom lights blurring into streaks of gold and white as the poison took hold. Garrett’s mouth on mine, his hands steadying me as the world tilted. He’d worn the Black Orchid poison on his skin. Every time my mouth found his neck, every time I tasted him, I was sealing my own fate.

He planned all of it.

The Queen’s voice had drifted from the shadows while I fought desperately to keep my eyes open and stay conscious. Through the haze and the paralysis creeping through my limbs, I’d watched Garrett press a blade to his own chest. He guided her trembling hands to the hilt. His face was calm and resolved, like he’d made peace with whatever was about to happen.

“He surrendered,” I mutter to myself.

“He did more than that. Garrett bound himself completely to the crown. He’s sworn to her service until death.” Kitty starts throwing my clothes at me. My shirt hits me in the chest and my pants land across my lap. She’s gathering my scattered belongings and tossing them in the satchel.

“What are you doing?” I ask her.

“Our contract is void, Wolf.” She sounds exasperated.

I blink at her.

“The contract was to protect Garrett Clayborne, heir to House Clayborne. He’s no longer that.” She yanks the satchel closed. “He’s property of the crown now. We failed.”

Failed.

The word echoes in my skull.

Three strikes.

“The guild will send hunters soon,” Kitty says, moving to the window to check sight lines. “They’re probably already on their way.”

She peers out carefully, angling her head to see up and down the street. Her eyes scan for threats or any sign that we’re being watched. “We have to run.”

“Run where?” I ask, staring at her. “The guild finds everyone.”

Kitty turns back to face me.

“Not everyone.” Her voice softens with hope. “Some make it to the Free Cities or the Northern Wastes.”

She reaches up and removes her cat mask, letting it fall to the bed. Dark eyes meet mine, framed by lashes too delicate for an assassin.

“We can make it, but we have to go now.” Defiance enters her expression. “Separately. We have a better chance if we split up.”

“What about Shade?” I ask.

“It’s best if he doesn’t know about our plan. The Queen lives, he’s protecting her, his contract with the Wiolants is still valid. He’s safe.” Relief colors her face as she answers patiently.

She pulls out a bag and dumps coins across the bed. Gold and silver spill onto the sheets. It’s weeks or months of saved payment, hoarded for emergencies exactly like this.

“This is everything I have. Take half,” she says.

“Kitty—”

“No arguments. We both know what happens if they catch us.” Her voice is steady but I hear the fear underneath. “I won’t go back to the brothel. I’ll die first.”

“I won’t go to the crypts,” I mutter.

A faint smile crosses her lips. “That’s why we must run, Lucien Sylverin.”

The name makes me freeze. It sounds foreign, like it belongs to someone else. Nobody’s called me that in years. The guild stripped my name away along with everything else.