บททั้งหมดของ Claimed as the Wrong Bride: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "Handle him. But he doesn't die. Not yet. Elowen deserves to see him answer for what he's done."Sylvia nodded. "Understood."We talked for hours. House Varen's movements. The other packs' likely responses to my return. The logistics of a coronation. The question of what to do about Elowen's human family, her human friends, her human life.By the time Corvin finally led me back to the royal suite, my head was spinning.The bedroom was empty when I entered, but I could hear water running. The bathroom door was cracked open, steam curling out."El?""In here."I pushed the door open and found her in the walk-in shower — massive, all stone and glass, with multiple heads and a built-in bench. She was sitting on the bench, her wounded leg stretched out carefully to keep weight off it, bandages removed, letting the hot water run over her.She looked up at me, wet hair plastered to her face, and smiled tiredly. "I couldn't take it anymore. I smelled like

She should have seen him coming.That was the part that bothered her afterward, walking fast through the grey zone with the cold air cutting through her jacket and the specific residue of annoyance that came from being caught off guard by something she should have anticipated. She had clocked his people in the booth. She had gone out the back. She had taken three different routes to the gym over the past week and varied her timing and done everything that her working knowledge of not being found suggested she should do.She had not accounted for him coming personally.It was eleven-forty-five when she came out of The Meridian's back exit, gym bag over one shoulder, backpack over the other, the night cold and clear and the alley behind the club empty in the way alleys behind clubs at this hour were usually empty. She turned left toward Crane Street.He was leaning against the wall at the end of the alley with his hands in his jacket pockets, which was a cashmere jacket and therefore an

Rook had positioned himself on the opposite side of Crane Street with a direct sightline to both the alley exit and the street, which was the correct position for someone who had been told to observe rather than intercept. He had watched Bastien come out of the front entrance of The Meridian and walk around to the alley exit with the patience of someone who had thought carefully about which exit she was using. He had watched the conversation play out on Crane Street, the specific quality of Occy's posture, the specific quality of Bastien's, which were very different from each other and interesting in their difference.He had watched her walk into a group of bar patrons and disappear.He had watched Bastien stand on the pavement looking at the space where she had been.He pressed his lips together very firmly.He maintained this for approximately four seconds.Then he took out his phone, because Adler was going to want to know, and because if Rook was going to document this situation a

"Octavia Rose Maddox," she said. "Twenty-six. Born in Tripicity. No known biological family in the city. Entered the foster system at age four after a child protection intervention. Seven placements between four and eighteen. No adoption. No long-term guardian placement. Aged out at eighteen." She said it the way she said everything, without pause, without inflection, each fact delivered with the precision of someone who had read the file until she knew it rather than until she had finished it. "The last placement was a family in the Thornmere district. She left at eighteen. No contact recorded after that."Nobody said anything."No tenancy ever registered under her legal name. No property ownership. No hotel bookings. No residential address on any system at any point after she left the foster system." A pause. "Eight years of nothing.""Eight years," Bastien said."Eight years." Vex looked at him. "She has never had a registered address as an adult.""The art," Bastien said."Ash Van

She found out at six-fifteen in the morning.She had a shift at The Meridian that night with a full day before it. The warehouse in the afternoon. The gym in the morning for the shower and the rack work she did three times a week because the pole required it and because the specific physical satisfaction of a body that knew what it could do was one of the things she had that was genuinely hers.She scanned her membership card at the front desk. The reader beeped in a way that was different from the usual beep. The staff member behind the desk looked at the screen with the expression of someone reading something they had not been expecting."It's saying the account is inactive," she said.Occy looked at the reader. "It was active yesterday.""I can see there's been a flag on the account." The staff member clicked through a few screens. "I'm not seeing a cancellation notice or a payment failure. It's just showing as suspended." She looked up with the specific apologetic expression of so