LOGINI spent twelve minutes choosing this outfit—not to look pretty for Xavier Beckett, but to show him who I had become. In my burgundy halter, denim skirt, and boots, I looked comfortable and confident; if he expected the shy nineteen-year-old he left behind, he was in for a surprise.
Beckett Holdings screamed wealth with its marble and gold. As I walked in, the executives ignored me and the assistants whispered, their stares fueled by the fact that I clearly didn&r
The formal summons arrived at dawn.A sealed envelope with the Wintersaint crest, delivered by a royal courier who waited in the foyer until Xavier signed for it. He read the letter once, face blank, then set it on the desk without a word.I walked in while he was still standing there."What is it?"He didn't look up. "The King wants me at Wintersaint. Tomorrow morning.""I'm coming."Xavier finally raised his eyes. "No.""I'm not asking.""You are still recovering. The file is not fully contained. You stay here."I crossed my arms. "Every time something from my past surfaces, you try to lock me in a room while you handle it alone. That ends now. The card had your name on it. The medical program involved me. I am going."He was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "You will stay in the outer rooms. You will not enter the medical archive. You will not speak to anyone without me present. Those are the conditions."
I didn't say a word during the drive back.I just sat there beside Xavier, the Wintersaint card pinched between two fingers. Every few minutes, I found myself flipping it over, as if some hidden explanation might suddenly materialize on the back. It didn't.Xavier knew the authorization code. That was the problem."Where have you seen it?" I finally asked.He kept his eyes locked on the road. "Royal medical administration.""That's not an answer.""It's the department responsible for medical records involving royal bloodlines and designated Alpha families," he replied.I turned to look at him, my voice sharpening. "And why is your name on their authorization?""I don't know yet.""You're lying."He didn't deny it, but his grip tightened around the steering wheel. I didn't push further; instead, I slipped the card into my bag. "Don't bother telling me to wait until you have answers," I told him. "I'm not waiting.""I wasn't going to.""Good."When we reached the penthouse, Kaelen was
The old clinic smelled of disinfectant, damp concrete, and stale coffee. A letter had vanished from the sign above the door, and cloudy plastic now filled a broken window, but the narrow hallway remained the same.I stood in the doorway, staring at the reception desk."You're sure this is the place?" Xavier asked behind me.I glanced over my shoulder. "I spent four years coming here. I think I'd recognize it.""I'm asking because the building is barely standing.""Some of us didn't have the luxury of choosing somewhere prettier."His expression shifted. He reached for my hand, but I slipped past him before he could take it.Not because I didn't want him to touch me.That was becoming the problem.A woman emerged from the back room, wiping her hands on a faded apron. Her hair was almost entirely grey now, gathered into a loose knot. She squinted at me."Can I help you?""I'm looking for Mara."The woman studied my face. "That's me."I hadn't expected her to remember me. I had been one
I’d changed out of my pajamas immediately. Entering a room of powerful information brokers looking like I’d just crawled out of Xavier's bed was too degrading, even if I technically had.Xavier leaned against the desk, sleeves rolled up and violet eyes tracking my every breath. A few paces back stood Kaelen, the silent architect of this disaster, holding the device that had just dismantled my peace of mind."The original data card came through a building channel," Kaelen explained, his voice devoid of emotion. "Legitimate route, but the courier’s credentials were faked. A ghost delivery.""Who sent it?" I asked. My voice sounded thin to my own ears."Tracing it now," Kaelen replied."Then tell me what we actually have."Kaelen tapped the screen and slid it toward me. Grainy shots of The Pit—my old place with the leaky ceiling and the brick that looked like it was giving up. Then, a few of me: walking out of a pharmacy, heading toward the clinic.I stopped scrolling. The air suddenly
The package arrived at 4:17 p.m.No logo, no return address. Though screened by security before reaching the private elevator, the plain black envelope Mrs. Gable brought into the study immediately shifted the room's atmosphere.Xavier took it without a word. He opened it with a letter knife, glanced at the contents once, and went completely still.I watched the shift from the doorway."What is it?"He did not answer immediately. He turned the single sheet of paper so only he could see it, jaw locked hard enough that a muscle jumped in his cheek. The bond flooded with pure, ice-cold rage so abrupt that Ciel flinched."Xavier."He looked up. His eyes had gone dark in a way I had not seen since the foundation tunnels."They sent it here," he said. "To the building. To this floor."He placed the page on the desk facing me.It was a photograph printed on heavy paper. Grainy, night-time, slightly overexposed from a str
The knowledge sat in my chest like a stone the rest of the day.Someone had kept records. Dates. Locations. Injuries. The file had turned the years I thought were invisible into evidence. Every time I closed my eyes I felt the shape of it—anonymous entries that had watched me starve and bleed and keep walking.I lasted until late afternoon before it pulled me under.***The alley behind the Satin Claw smelled of piss, spilled beer, and wet cardboard.I was twenty. Maybe twenty-one. Time had already started to blur. My shoes had holes large enough that the cold from the pavement came straight through.I had not eaten since the previous morning. The half-sandwich I found in a bin had been taken off me by a girl younger than I was and hungrier. I let her have it. Fighting would have cost more energy than the food was worth.Ciel was quiet back then. He wasn't gone; he was just saving his energy. We had learned that panicking wasted c







