FAZER LOGINBeatrice's POVI poured his wine.Not because I wanted to and not because I was afraid, but because eight men were watching and a broken wrist was still bleeding on the tablecloth and I needed this night to end. So I walked to the head of the table, tilted the bottle, and filled Cedrick's glass while the room held its breath around me.He didn't drink it. He looked at me instead, and whatever lived behind those dark eyes was closer to the surface than I'd ever seen it. My wolf caught it before I did, a shift in the air between us, a pull that started somewhere deep in my chest and traveled down through my ribs and into my stomach. I set the bottle down and stepped back.Cedrick stood.He moved toward me with a slowness that was worse than speed because it gave me time to see it coming and not enough time to decide what to do about it. His hand came up and caught the side of my face, his fingers curling into my hair, and he kissed me in front of every man at that table.He tried to
Beatrice's POVHe thought I'd done it to myself.That was the part that broke through the fog of the drugs and the ache in my wrists and the dull, heavy exhaustion sitting on my chest like a stone. When Cedrick walked back into the room that morning, he didn't ask if I was hurt. Didn't ask how I was feeling or whether the chains had left marks or whether the drugs had fully worn off. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked at me with something cold and flat behind his eyes, and then he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stack of bills.He threw them at me.The money hit the bed and scattered across the sheets, some of the notes sliding off onto the floor. I stared at them, not understanding, and then I looked at his face and understood everything."Is that what you wanted?" he said. His voice was quiet and controlled, which was always worse than shouting. "Money? Is that why you let yourself be put up for sale in a black market auction? Did you think someone would pay
Henry's POVThe auction master adjusted his spectacles and read the card in his hand with the careful theatricality of a man who knew exactly what he was selling."Lot number forty-seven, listed under the name Crimson. Female, early twenties, in excellent physical condition. Starting bid, five million dollars."Five million. For a human being locked in a glass cage with a blindfold over her eyes. I felt my wolf curl back against my spine in disgust, and I had to clench my jaw to keep the growl from reaching my throat. Around the room, buyers leaned forward in their seats. A few murmured to their companions. One man in the third row raised his paddle without hesitation."Five million from the gentleman in row three. Do I hear five and a half?"Another paddle, then another. The bids climbed in steady increments, each one landing in my chest with the dull weight of something obscene. These men were bidding on Beatrice the way they'd bid on a painting or a piece of land, and the casualnes
Henry's POVBy midnight, I knew something was wrong.Beatrice had a routine, even on bad days. Even after fights with Neah or encounters with Cedrick that left her shaken, she always came back to her quarters before the last lanterns were dimmed. Judy always checked on her, the guards always logged her passing through the east gate, and there was a rhythm to it all that was predictable enough that any break stood out immediately.Tonight there was no log and no sighting. Judy came to me at half past eleven with fear already settling into her face, and I told her to wait while I checked the usual places. I checked them all and found nothing. Her scent trail ended abruptly on the east wing path, cut off as if she'd simply stopped existing mid-step. I went to Cedrick's study, where I found him reading by lamplight. When I told him Beatrice hadn't returned, he didn't look up from the page. His face stayed exactly as it was, composed and disinterested, as though I were reporting a dela
Beatrice's POVMartin was waiting outside."I caught the end of your performance," he said. "Through the window. I hope you don't mind."I shook my head. I didn't have the energy to mind anything right now. My throat still held the ghost of Cedrick's grip, and my face felt tight where the tears had dried."You were wonderful," Martin said. Simple. No elaboration. He fell into step beside me as I walked, matching my pace without asking where I was going. After a moment, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small wooden box."For you," he said. "I saw it in the market last week and thought of you."I took it. The box was carved with a pattern of vines along the lid — not expensive, but careful. Handmade. Inside, resting on a fold of cloth, was a hair comb. Bone-white, shaped like a crescent moon, with tiny flowers etched along the spine."Martin, you don't have to keep —""I know I don't have to." He smiled. "I wanted to. That's all."I closed the box. Held it in both hands. The we
Beatrice's POV"Your brother deserved what he got," she said, turning back with that sharp little smile still on her face. "A rapist rotting in a cell. Fitting, really. The only surprise is they haven't executed him yet."I snapped.One second I was standing there with water in my hand, and the next I had Neah by the collar of her dress and was dragging her sideways across the rehearsal hall.She screamed. Clawed at my wrists. Her wolf surged, but mine was faster — angrier — and the growl that ripped through my chest made two nearby servants stumble back against the wall.I shoved her head under the nearest faucet and turned the water on.Cold. Full blast. It hit her face and she gasped, choking, her hands scrambling at the basin. I held her there, not long, a few seconds then pulled her up by the back of her neck.Water streamed down her face. Her hair was ruined and her makeup ran in dark lines down her cheeks. She stared at me with wide, furious eyes, too shocked to speak.I leane
Elena’s povLydia didn't wait to be invited in.She stepped past Blake like he wasn't even there, her heels clicking against our hardwood floors. "I'm here in my capacity as Chief Warrior," she announced, smoothing her dress as she surveyed our living room. "A formal visit."Blake moved to block h







