MasukBailey's POV Lia opened the door just as my knuckles grazed the wood. She had been waiting. Her eyes, usually so guarded, held a flicker of something I couldn’t quite decipher. She didn’t smile, didn’t speak, just stepped back, and I walked into her rooms. It was as sparse and neat as I expected. A uniform arrangement of furniture, clean lines, without a single personal touch, save for one framed photograph on the windowsill that I didn’t quite focus on yet. My gaze swept across the polished surfaces, looking for what, I wasn’t sure. A tell. A sign.I sat on the edge of a stiff armchair. Lia sat a moment later, directly across from me, her hands clasped loosely in her lap. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, punctuated only by my own breathing. I could feel my heart thudding a slow, tense rhythm against my ribs.“I read the letter,” I said, my voice sounding rougher than I intended.“I know,” she replied, her tone neutral, devoid of apology or defensiveness.I leaned forward slig
Bailey's POV Declan found me in the library, as usual. He walked straight to the table where I sat, the one near the tall arched window, and pulled out the chair opposite me. I watched his face as he sat, trying to decipher his mood, but it was unreadable. He placed a folded piece of paper, thick and cream-colored, on the polished wood between us. He didn’t say anything. He just pushed it slightly towards me and then settled back, his gaze steady.I picked it up, my fingers brushing the heavy paper. It felt strangely formal, out of place in our current chaos. The return address was printed neatly in the top left corner. Lia. My name was handwritten below, precise and elegant. I unfolded it carefully.It was three pages long. Lia wrote exactly as she spoke, directly, without a single wasted word or flourish. Her handwriting was small but clear, unwavering. I started to read.She began by explaining how Voss had approached her eight months ago. She’d been outside territory then, vulner
Declan's POVShe. The word echoed in my head, simple and sharp. A woman. My mind immediately started running through faces, a whirlwind of every female I’d seen roaming the palace halls over the last few months. A dozen, two dozen. Too many. Then Voss’s words cut through the mental static. “Already here when you started planning.” That narrowed it, but not by much. Women were always “here.” Then the next twist: “Someone who had been forgiven.” And the bitter kicker: “Someone nobody would suspect because of that forgiveness.”My gaze found Raven’s across the room. Her eyes, usually so guarded, were wide with a sudden, dawning terror. A flicker of recognition passed between us, a silent chord struck. We had both arrived at the same conclusion, and the name that formed in our minds was a stone in my gut. We didn’t speak it, couldn
Rider's POVBailey brought Sol to me, a quiet shadow trailing in her wake. I had imagined confronting him, had planned the anger I would unleash, but the fury withered five minutes into his careful, nervous explanation. He stood before me, a man of twenty-four, gaunt and pale under the harsh light of my office. He had been Voss’s tethered puppet since childhood, and the weight of that truth settled heavily. He had sat in a room beside Bailey for three months, a wilting mourning flower in his hand, convinced Voss would have him killed if he failed, certain some other, more ruthless operative would take his place.“The flower,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended, “why did you keep it?”Sol flinched, his eyes darting to Bailey, then back to m
Bailey's POVI arranged it through Leila. Such a simple thing, really. A request for the east wing archivist to bring me a selection of historical texts from the lower library. It was exactly the kind of dusty, academic task I often found myself immersed in. Nothing alarming. Nothing out of the ordinary. Leila came back quickly, her expression unburdened, and confirmed that Sol would bring the texts within the hour.I sat in the vast, silent library, the high ceilings making my own breathing sound unnervingly loud. The ornate wooden shelves, packed with centuries of forgotten stories and records, felt like they were watching me. I thought about what I was doing, the quiet rebellion budding in my chest. Was it foolish? Incredibly. Necessary? Entirely.Sol arrived exactl
Raven's POVThe reports were on the data slate, glowing faintly in the dim light of my office. Five clean. Five blank slate, exactly as they should be. It was the sixth that snagged, a sharp, unwelcome burr in the otherwise smooth fabric of the investigation. Sol. Junior archivist, east wing administrative staff. Twenty-four years old, eighteen months with the pack, spotless record. No flags, no incidents, no complaints. Except for the gap.Three months ago. The same week the adjacent room was first occupied. The system showed a transfer request approved by a mid-level steward named Kael. Kael had been gone for almost two weeks now, vanished from the territory right before the council session. Nobody could find him. Convenient.I walked the few hallways over to Rider&r







