7

Leah

Julius spent the next ten minutes describing the plan, and the only thought in my head as he concluded his briefing was, 'I may die trying to kill Ares.'

“The plan is easy, Leah,” Julius said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as though he didn’t just paint the image of my inevitable death. “All you have to do is follow every step I’ve laid out.”

My eyes narrowed. Easy? It was easy to sleep through the night without nightmares. Easy was not being held prisoner for years. What he was asking was madness.

I had to poison Ares. Not once. Not twice. Over and over again for two weeks, until the toxins built enough to weaken him, to finally kill him.

My stomach churned at the thought. Pouring poison into his cup with a steady hand while praying my wolf didn’t give me away. And worst of all, living in constant fear that he would notice before it was too late.

Then would I know true hell.

I snapped my gaze to Julius. “How the hell is that easy? How the hell am I supposed to guarantee my father stays alive until then?” I asked, my voice laced with the frustration brewing in me.

His smirk widened, his demeanor calm. “You don’t. You just have to decide if freedom is worth risking everything for.”

I clenched my fists at my sides. “And what happens if I fail?” I whispered.

His smirk deepened, like he had been waiting for me to ask. “Then you die, Leah. And so does your father.”

A chill crept down my spine. He said it so casually, so easily, as though death was no more than a line in a deal he had written a thousand times before. But again, his king wiped away my soulmate and everything I've ever known, and made me a slave.

Julius leaned in closer, lowering his voice.“You’ve been given a chance most people would beg for. Do this right, and you walk away free. Do it wrong…” His eyes glinted, merciless. “Well, you already know the cost.”

My throat tightened. He was right about one thing: I knew the cost all too well.

For a heartbeat, I wondered if being a lowly slave might be kinder than playing his game.

But then I turned to my father, who curled into himself at the edge of the cell, weak, bruised, chained. And the answer became clear.

I straightened my back, forcing bravery into my voice even as fear roared in me and my wolf yelled at me not to. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll kill Ares.”

“Good girl,” he threw a silk pouch at me, and managed to catch it before it fell and spilled around. “One every day. Try not to get caught.”

Hours after my encounter with Julius, it was all I could think about. Everything had to go well, and by that, I meant I had to hide my fear from Ares, which meant I had to control my wolf from giving away my scent.

My own plan for the first tablet I had to give him was to put it in his drink. And there was only one way I knew I could do that.

So the second I saw Elinor, I asked her for the one thing I never knew I could ask her for,, someone other than Seth.

“Can I have one of the Lingerie I planned for my honeymoon?”

The shock on her face was priceless.

Elinor blinked at me, her mouth falling open. “Lingerie? For Ares?” she whispered, as if saying his name too loudly might summon him.

I forced a smirk I didn’t feel. “For our King,” I corrected, steadying my tone. “Do you think I don’t know how to keep a man interested? How else would I make him trust me?”

Her brows pinched together, suspicion flickering in her gaze. But after a pause, she exhaled and turned toward the chest where she carefully stored away every delicate piece of lace and silk she ever stitched for me. For the life I was supposed to have.

The life Ares had stolen.

“Pick one,” she muttered, pushing the chest toward me.

My fingers trembled as I checked through them, lace, crimson silk, black satin. Each one is a wicked reminder of what I lost. Finally, I chose black. Dangerous, sexy, something I've never felt before, but I had to pretend to feel now. A color that made me feel less like prey and more like a predator.

If I weree going to poison Ares, I needed to distract him first. And what better way to distract a man like him than with the very thing he thought he owned, me.