Mag-log inCHAPTER 37Camryn's POVAmon collapsed before we reached the apartment.One moment he was walking beside me, the next he was on his knees, blood seeping through the bandages on his chest.“Shit.” I grabbed his arm. “Fabian, help me.”The two of us got Amon up the stairs and through Whitney’s door. Alex woke up immediately, took one look at Amon, and started pulling out medical supplies without being asked.“He reopened his wounds,” Alex said, cutting away the bloodied bandages. “What the hell was he doing out of the medical wing?”“Saving my ass,” I muttered. “Again.”We got Amon onto Whitney’s bed. Alex worked efficiently, cleaning the wounds, applying fresh bandages. The kid had clearly done this before.“He’ll be okay,” Alex said after a few minutes. “But he needs rest. Real rest this time. No more running around playing hero.”Amon’s eyes opened slightly. “Not playing.”“Shut up and rest,” I told him.He looked at me and shut up.Whitney was making coffee while Fabian checked the
CHAPTER 36Camryn's POVFactory #2 looked worse than the first one.Half the roof had collapsed years ago, exposing rusted machinery to the elements. The windows were all broken, glass crunching under our boots as we approached. It was three in the morning, and the textile district was dead quiet.“This place gives me the creeps,” Whitney muttered.“Most abandoned buildings do.” I pulled out Milicent’s journal, checking the entry again. “Trust vault. Box 47. Should be in the basement level.”Fabian was already at the main entrance, testing the door. “Locked. But the hinges are rusted through. Give me a minute.”He pulled out his tools. Thirty seconds later, the lock clicked open.Inside was darkness. I pulled out a small lantern, the flame casting dancing shadows across walls covered in old posters and peeling paint. The factory floor stretched ahead, filled with textile machines that hadn’t run in decades.“Basement access?” Whitney asked.“Should be near the back.” I moved forward c
CHAPTER 35Amon's POVI’d been staring at the ceiling for three days straight. The black veins from the venom had faded to gray, then to nothing. Marcus said I was healing faster than expected. Said I’d be mobile within another day or two.It didn’t feel fast enough.“You’re brooding again,” Marcus said from across the room. “Stop it. You’ll slow your recovery.”“I’m not brooding.”“You’ve been staring at the same ceiling tile for twenty minutes.” He moved to my cot, checking the bandages across my chest. “The wounds are closed. The venom’s cleared. You should be resting, not doing whatever this is.”“This is resting.”“This is you being pissed off that you’re stuck here while Camryn’s out there doing god knows what.” He finished with the bandages and stepped back. “She visited yesterday. Told me about an important meeting.”“And?”“And she seemed confident. Said they got what they needed.” Marcus paused.My jaw tightened. “She what?”“That’s Camryn.” Marcus moved back to his supply t
CHAPTER 34Camryn's POVEvery time I looked at the clock, another hour had disappeared. By the time evening classes ended, my stomach was twisted in knots. Two missions tonight: Henry at the textile factory at midnight, and the library break-in right after.“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Fabian said when I found him in the music room.“I’m fine.”“You’re a terrible liar.” He closed the door behind us. “Are you having second thoughts?”“About breaking into someone’s house to steal research that might get us all killed? No. Why would I have second thoughts about that?”He smiled. “There’s the sarcasm I’ve grown to love.”I ignored the flutter in my chest at the word ‘love.’ “Is everything set?”“Whitney’s already in position near the estate. The guards change shifts at twelve-thirty. That gives us a thirty-minute window to get in and out.” He pulled out a small kit from his bag. Lock picks, a knife, and what looked like a glass cutter. “I brought tools.”“Of course you did.”
CHAPTER 33Camryn's POVI spent the morning teaching girls how to curtsy without looking like they were about to fall over.My mind wasn’t on the lesson. It was at the meeting with Pascal. The industrial sectors. Midnight. Six hours from now.“Miss Chavez?” Natasha raised her hand.“You’ve explained this curtsy three times now.”I blinked. “Right. Sorry. Let’s move on to dinner etiquette.”The rest of the class dragged on. When the bell finally rang, I dismissed them and headed straight for my room. I hurriedly changed out of my teaching dress into something darker, more practical. I checked my knife. The ward pendant Amon had given me. Everything I’d need if Pascal’s meeting turned into an ambush.Someone knocked.“Come in,” I said.Fabian stepped through, already dressed for the night. “Ready?”“As I’ll ever be.”We left through the service entrance, avoiding the main gates because we didn’t want guards asking us questions. The streets were quieter this time of night, most people al
CHAPTER 32Camryn's POVIt was the seventh match. A Stage Two Hunter this time, facing something that looked like a mass of writhing tentacles with too many eyes. The fight lasted longer; the Hunter actually managed to land hits before one of the tentacles caught his leg and slammed him into the ground. It was hard enough that I heard bones break from here.He didn't get back up.Henry Montague was celebrating, collecting winnings from whoever he'd bet against. His group of nobles was getting louder with each match, drunk on wine and violence.I glanced at Whitney. She hadn't moved since we sat down, her eyes fixed on the arena floor where they were dragging the Stage Two Hunter's body to the side. Her hands were clenched so tight in her lap that her knuckles had gone white."Whitney," I said quietly."Five hundred credits." Her voice was barely audible over the crowd noise. "That Hunter was Stage Two. Probably had a decent experience and knew what he was doing. And he still died. But







