Chapter 20 #2
Elsa stared at the table. The warmth of the room felt obscene now, a cruelty she didn’t deserve when people from her crash—people she’d been chained beside in that throne room—were fighting for their lives in some underground hell.
“We can’t leave them there.”
The statement fell into the silence like a stone into still water.
Mia looked up sharply. Ari’s expression didn’t change, but something sparked behind her eyes—hope or fear, impossible to tell which.
“Elsa...” Mia started.
“We can’t.” Elsa’s voice hardened. “I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care what I have to do or who I have to ask. Rowan stood between me and that throne room. Milo fed us on the ship before everything went to hell. They’re ours. We don’t leave our people in places like that.”
“You think Sylas will let you—”
“I think Sylas has given me more access than he should have.” Elsa met Ari’s gaze steadily. “I think he arranged this hour because he knows I need allies who aren’t him. And I think if I play this right, I can get what I want through proper channels before I have to try anything else.”
“Properly first,” Ari echoed, something like approval threading through her voice. “And improperly if you have to.”
“Yes.”
Mia’s hands had stopped trembling. She stared at Elsa like she was seeing her for the first time—or maybe like she was seeing something she’d forgotten existed. Hope. Purpose. The idea that surviving wasn’t the same as accepting.
“What do you need from us?” Mia asked, her gaze moving between them. “What can we do without putting a target on ourselves too?”
“Information. Everything you know about the pits—how to get access, who controls the guards, what the official process looks like for releasing someone. Ari, you understand the court better than I do. What approach is least likely to trigger Vask or Xar’s attention?”
Ari considered this, her head tilting slightly—a gesture that reminded Elsa of the way Ryxin moved, which meant she’d been in his orbit long enough to pick up his mannerisms. “Frame it as mercy, not politics. You’re the Alpha King’s claimed female pet, showing concern for lesser captives. It reads as softness, not threat.”
“And if softness doesn’t work?”
“Then we find another way.” Ari’s smile was sharp enough to cut. “I’ve learned a few things about navigating systems that weren’t built for people like us. Ryxin thinks I’m adjusting to my position. What I’m actually doing is mapping every weakness he hasn’t thought to protect.”
Something loosened in Elsa’s chest. She’d thought she was alone in this—one human woman against a fortress full of predators, trying to stay alive long enough to figure out the next move.
But Mia had been gathering intelligence through Yarx’s kindness.
Ari had been studying power structures while everyone assumed she was merely surviving.
They weren’t helpless. They weren’t broken.
They were adapting. The same way any species did when dropped into hostile territory—learning the terrain, finding the resources, building alliances that might mean the difference between death and something like freedom. Doing what it took to survive—that’s what humans were known for.
“This doesn’t leave this room,” Elsa said quietly. “Not until we have a plan. Not until we’re ready.”
Both women nodded.
“One more thing.” Mia’s voice was steadier now, some of that early terror replaced by something more determined.
“Yarx mentioned that the pit guards answer to a commander called Drekh. He’s been there for decades—one of the few who treats the position as a career instead of a punishment.
If you want legitimate access, he’s the one you need to convince. ”
Another name for the map. Drekh. Pit commander. The kind of authority figure who might respond to mercy or might respond to pressure, depending on what motivated him.
“How do I reach him?”
“Through proper channels, you’d need Sylas’s permission to even approach the pit access corridors. The Lux Sabers would have to escort you.” Ari paused. “But there’s another option. Ryxin has contacts in the lower levels. People who owe him favors. If I ask carefully—”
“No.” Elsa shook her head. “Not yet. If this goes wrong, I don’t want it touching either of you. Let me try the official route first. Make requests. Be patient. Show them I’m not a threat.”
Weaponized civility. The phrase floated through her mind, carrying echoes of corporate negotiations and diplomatic standoffs from a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.
She’d learned how to be polite while being immovable.
How to smile while applying pressure. How to make her demands sound like reasonable requests until suddenly they weren’t requests at all.
She could do this.
A knock at the door made all three women freeze.
“Five minutes.” Yarx’s voice came muffled through the wood.
The hour had vanished while they talked. It had felt like minutes—the way time always collapsed when something important was happening.
Elsa stood, and the other women rose with her.
“This was good.” She didn’t try to make the words soft or sentimental. They weren’t that kind of group—not yet, maybe not ever. They were survivors in enemy territory, pooling resources because the alternative was dying alone. “We do this again. As often as we can.”
“Yarx will help,” Mia said. “He likes that I’m...less fragile when I have people to talk to.”
“And Ryxin won’t question my visiting the infirmary suite.” Ari’s smile had an edge to it. “He thinks human women need to cluster. It makes us easier to manage, in his mind.”
“Then we let them think that.” Elsa moved toward the door, then paused. “Rowan and Milo. Whatever it takes.”