Page 115 of Outcast’s Return

“I call for a vote,” Cromwell replies calmly. “Just as the emergency conventions dictate.”

Agreement around the room spreads like wildfire, even from the live feeds beaming in. Leopold can’t squirm out of this one.

There will be a secret ballot.

* * *

The votes are cast. The papers are counted. The chest has been opened, and the Castaways' vote teller reads them out one by one. It takes a hell of a long time.

Anguish.

Auclair.

The chamber falls silent. We don’t even need to tally the votes in our heads. Jolie’s father has won convincingly.

As an initiate of the Order, I’m allowed a vote. But I didn’t vote for Cromwell Auclair. I didn’t even vote for Leopold.

Instead, I voted for my father.

I know I should not have spoiled my ballot. I know I should’ve decided who would handle the crisis better. But neither candidate has my trust.

You are my legacy, son.

But we are wasting time now. I watch on in disbelief as the coronation of the Supreme Elder gets underway. Cromwell steps into the middle of the room. He strips bare in front of every member of the Castaways, reciting the old vows. The Supreme Elder's robe is draped over his shoulders.

“Madness,” I mutter under my breath.

We shouldn’t be crowning kings. We should be out there on the hunt.

I look over at Clement as Cromwell speaks the ancient words. He doesn’t even turn toward me.

So, even with this development, things are not over yet between us.

“We will do this,” the new Supreme Elder says to the gathering. “We will find the killer. We will rebuild. We will rise from the ashes.”

As Cromwell bows, Clement finally turns toward me. Just a flicker. A look of hurt.

And I want to shake my brother and tell him I know what it feels like to be betrayed, because the man who betrayed me is now standing in front of us, about to become the most powerful person in the world.

JOLIE

I’m sitting on the steps of the mansion, freaking out over what might be happening inside the grand old building, and wondering what the hell comes next.

The cold air burns my lungs as I take a beat.

One moment, I was in the process of saving my career, and then the two men I love were fighting in front of me, and now it’s like all our lives are at stake, and the Castaways might come undone.

As I wait for news from inside, men in suits run around in and out of the mansion. There’s shouting. Panic. And I am locked out of it simply on the stupid basis that I have a vagina between my legs.

The stone steps are freezing against my ass.