Chapter 47
Nia
“THE BEST (AND WORST) WAYS TO GET OUT OF A MAGICAL CONTRACT.” —A LEGAL THREAD
Nia woke to a pounding headache and muffled sounds, as though the world had wrapped itself in cotton. The first thing she registered was clucking—dull and incessant. The next thing was the smell.
Wherever she was, it stank.
Her eyes fluttered open, vision swimming before gradually clearing. Darkness pressed against the outside windows; it had been hours since she’d collapsed on the floor. She shifted on the ground, the coarse texture of sawdust scraping against her skin.
Then she saw Jade.
Her dog was crammed into a cage far too small for her, growling low and steady. Nia’s chest tightened as anger burned away the mental haze.
Chickens. Dozens of them surrounded her, feathers shifting and restless, but they stayed clear of Jade and her cage.
Nia tried to move, but her arms were bound tightly behind her, secured to a pole. She tugged at the ropes, frustration building as her gaze darted around the space.
She recognized it.
The foul smell of badly cared for chickens and the faint creak of metal beams—she’d been here. Months ago, she’d snuck into this very warehouse to take incriminating photos and videos. This was Jackson’s operation.
Her eyes narrowed at the distant second-floor office overlooking the pens, where three figures moved behind opaque glass.
“Fucking Jackson,” she muttered, venom infusing every syllable.
She pulled harder at the ropes, but it was useless.
Her head throbbed and her body felt weak.
Across the room, Jade let out a low growl, her cramped body shaking with tension.
Nia clenched her jaw, forcing down the panic rising in her chest. She had to focus.
She had to get Jade out. And herself, too.
Taking a deep breath, she ignored the painful throb in her skull.
The moon moss they’d drugged her with left her abilities dull and sluggish.
Focusing on the floor, Nia coaxed a thin stream of shadow to creep forward, gliding across the sawdust like an inky thread.
It took far more effort than it should have.
The thread of shadow thinned, flickered, her breath catching as it reached the cage and—
The latch clicked open.
Nia sagged back against the pole as Jade burst free, her body surging forward as chickens scattered, their wings flapping frantically. Feathers flew through the air as they scrambled away.
“Good girl,” Nia whispered hoarsely.
Relief flooded through her as Jade bounded forward. The dog wasted no time, her teeth going straight to the ropes that bound Nia’s hands. She tugged and gnawed, her strong jaws working quickly.
The three figures behind the glass had stopped moving.
“Shit,” Nia hissed under her breath. She turned to Jade, who was still frantically chewing at the ropes around her hands.
“Jade, leave me,” she whispered urgently, her voice trembling. “Go for help.”
The dog’s jaws worked faster, growling as if she could sense Nia’s panic.
“Jade, no,” Nia said again, her voice softer but desperate. “Go for help. Please.”
Jade whined, pausing just long enough to nuzzle her face against Nia’s cheek in a quick, reassuring lick. The dog turned and bolted into the shadows, her pale body disappearing into the maze of sawdust and feathers.
The door to the office opened with a labored creak.
The three men descended the stairs, their eyes fixed on her.
Nia’s anger flared. At the front was Jackson Runner, the CEO of this hellhole.
He looked every bit the part—well-groomed and dressed in crisp, clean clothes that screamed professionalism despite the filth of the setting.
Behind him loomed Gregor, the big, imposing man she’d fought before.
He might have been terrifying to most, but Nia knew better.
She’d kicked his ass once, and she could do it again.
And then there was Raymond Bell, the man from the bar.
He lagged behind the others, his face pale, his eyes darting around nervously.
Of the three, he was the only one who looked scared shitless—probably because he was a regular.
Whatever he’d seen when they took her from her home had clearly left its mark.
Gregor was the first to speak. “You didn’t lock the cage?” He rounded on Raymond, glaring.
Raymond flinched, his hands shaking as he stammered, “I-I did!”
“Clearly not!” Gregor snapped, his massive form radiating frustration.
Nia smirked, tilting her head as if she found the whole situation amusing. “Well, well, well. Three grown men against little old me. What’s the matter? Afraid?”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed, but before he or the others could reply, she lunged forward. The ropes dug into her skin, pulling taut, but the sudden movement was enough to make all three men flinch. Their uncoordinated reactions were pitiful, and a bark of laughter burst from her lips.
“Pathetic,” she shook her head, smiling wryly.
Jackson’s face twisted in anger. “We’re done with your games, Nia. You think you can threaten us like this, do business like this, and there are no consequences?”
“Boo freaking hoo.” Nia shook her head. “You’ve all got more money than you know what to do with and you’ve lied, cheated, and stolen to get it. I’m just trying to level the scales.”
“The scales aren’t yours to balance!” Gregor snapped, his deep voice echoing through the cavernous room, startling a few chickens.
The air thickened with heat as flames erupted in his fists.
Nia eyed the fire with icy defiance. “You think you’ll get out of paying for what you’ve done by threatening me? Please.”
Let them try.
Jackson’s mouth curled into something smug. “You think this is about money?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re still playing small, Nia.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “We’re going to expose how Charis really operates.”
He tossed a black notebook at her feet, its pages full of names and amounts they donated.
Nia’s breath caught.
Her notebook.
Shit.
Jackson must have seen the flicker of hesitation in her eyes.
He grinned. “You think people won’t care that their beloved foundation was funded by people like us?
” He gestured toward Gregor and Raymond.
“You think the public won’t be interested in how you convinced us to donate, how charitable the Duchess of Charity really is?
The blackmail, the extortion, the threats?
” His voice dripped with mock admiration.
“You’re not a saint, sweetheart. You’re just better at hiding your dirt. ”
Nia forced herself to keep her expression neutral, even as a nauseating panic clawed up her throat.
Charis wasn’t a cleanly run business, not in the traditional sense.
But it worked. She’d made it work. What did it matter if she coerced corrupt businessmen, threatened to expose politicians, twisted the arms of criminals, and occasionally partnered with them, if in the end it funneled money where it was actually needed?
But now…
For the first time, she saw it differently.
She’d always been willing to take risks—and pay any consequences incurred.
But this wasn’t just about her. If word about their funding got out, it wouldn’t just ruin Charis—it would destroy Ivy’s reputation.
It would cast a shadow over every person the foundation had ever helped, turning their success stories into scandals.
It would ruin future projects, the space she and Ivy had envisioned for young supernaturals.
It would hurt Lochlan.
And Wulfric.
The way she’d generated funding for Charis would be seen as confirmation their family had manipulated the system—and misused their magic—to claim and maintain power. Everything her father and mother had worked to build, the path to coexistence they’d fought for, would be threatened.
For the first time since she woke up, true fear curled in Nia’s chest.
But she couldn’t let them see it.
She lifted her chin. “Oh, it is my place to balance the scales.” A slow smile spread across her lips. “And you’re in deeper than you can imagine. Kidnapping the daughter of The Sword?”
She felt a surge of pride as the words left her mouth.
It was the first time she’d said that title without bitterness or resentment.
After seeing her father through her mother’s eyes, she was finally beginning to understand the man he truly was.
She just hoped she’d get out of here and have the chance to tell him that.
Not to thank him—oh no.
To yell at him for letting her go through life thinking he was a monster.
And Lochlan.
She hated that she’d spent their last moments pushing him away, convincing herself she couldn’t trust him. But was that really what had kept her from choosing him? Or was it because trusting him—really, truly trusting him—meant giving up something she had never been willing to before now?
Control.
Her entire adult life, she had relied on herself. No one else. Not even Ivy. Because no one else had ever been safe enough to rely on. But Lochlan…
Lochlan was different.
He had lied, yes. But not to manipulate her. Not to control her. Not even to keep the truth from her. He’d lied because he hadn’t known how to tell her the truth in a way she could hear and accept without blaming him.
He’d lied because he didn’t want to lose her.
And she knew—she knew—no matter what happened with these ass hats, no matter what they leaked, he was coming for her. And whatever happened next? They would be okay.
She loved him.
For the first time, she let herself believe love didn’t have to mean losing herself. And if she got out of this, she wasn’t going to waste another second pretending otherwise.
Raymond’s brow furrowed “How can she be the daughter of a sword?”
Jackson rounded on Gregor. “The Sword?” he hissed, panicked.
“You didn’t know?” Gregor’s massive shoulders shrugged. “I don’t live here, so it’s not like I could keep eyes on her all the time while you were gone,” he muttered. “But I never saw them together, and people say they haven’t talked in years. I heard their relationship is rocky.”
Nia let out a dry chuckle. “You heard wrong.”
Jackson’s head whipped back toward her, his face paling. “They can’t trace her here, right?”