Chapter 20
Brivul
Brivul pressed against the sun-warmed stone wall, his scales scraping the rough surface. The guards’ boots crunched on gravel as they made their rotation. His muscles tensed, ready to move.
“Now.” Mila’s whisper brushed his ear.
He slithered forward, keeping to the shadows. The purple sashes fluttered on the line, rich and vibrant against the stark white of the other linens. His fingers closed around the silk, and the fabric whispered as he pulled it free.
“Here.” He handed one to Mila, wrapping the other around his waist.
A cluster of servants rounded the corner, their heads down and shoulders slumped from morning duties. Mila stepped into their midst, her movements precise and measured. Brivul followed, forcing his warrior’s stance into a servant’s slouch.
The service entrance loomed ahead, its metal door propped open to catch the morning breeze. Sweat beaded on his scales. One wrong move would give them away.
“Did you see what Lady Talis wore yesterday?” one servant whispered.
“Shh. Back to work,” another answered.
The group shuffled through the door. Cool air washed over them, heavy with the scent of cooking spices. Brivul’s tongue flicked, tasting the air for threats.
“This way.” Mila gestured toward a narrow corridor.
“Wait.” Brivul caught her arm as voices echoed from around the corner. He pulled her into an alcove, his body curling protectively around her smaller form.
Two guards passed, their boots clicking against the polished floor. Mila’s breath hitched. The sound sent heat coursing through his veins. Later.
“Clear.” He released her.
They continued down the corridor, passing storage rooms and washing stations. Every step brought them closer to Talis’s private office—and closer to danger. But he’d face down an army to keep Mila safe and help her save her sister.
One audience with Talis could change everything. If they survived getting caught.
“Someone’s coming,” Mila whispered.
Brivul yanked Mila behind a massive stone pillar as footsteps approached. A guard patrol—not the usual servants. His instincts screamed danger.
“Lady Talis requests all servants report to the main hall,” a guard’s voice boomed through the corridor.
Mila’s eyes met his. They couldn’t blend in with the servants now. They’d be discovered instantly. His muscles coiled, ready to fight their way out if needed.
“The cleaning supplies.” Mila pointed to a cart laden with rags and buckets.
Perfect. Brivul grabbed a mop while Mila seized some cloths. They rounded the corner just as the guards appeared.
“You two. Main hall. Now.”
“Apologies, sir.” Mila kept her eyes down. “Lady Talis specifically requested we finish cleaning the east wing first.”
“Her exact words were ‘not a speck of dust anywhere,’” Brivul added, matching her submissive pose while scanning for escape routes.
The guard’s hand drifted to his weapon. “Show me the work order.”
“Right here, sir.” Mila pulled out a piece of paper Ellri had given her. Brivul’s heart stopped.
But she only pretended to read it and then tucked it away before the guard could see. “Signed by the head housekeeper this morning.”
The guard grunted. “Get it done quick.”
Brivul released a slow breath as the patrol moved on. That woman was brilliant. He’d never seen anyone think so fast on their feet—not even his best soldiers.
“Nice save with the paper.”
“Nice backup with the exact words.” A smile played on her lips. “We make a good team.”
They did. Every move, every response—they anticipated each other perfectly. Like they’d fought side by side for years instead of weeks. His mate indeed.
“The office should be this way.” Mila gestured down the hall.
Brivul followed, admiring how naturally she adapted to each situation. Together, they might actually pull this off.
Two servants hurried past, their voices low but urgent.
“Lady Talis moved her morning appointments to the Silver Conference Room.”
“All of them? That’s unusual.”
Brivul’s hand tightened on Mila’s arm, pulling her closer as the servants rounded the corner.
“Change of plans.” He kept his voice soft. “We won’t go to her office if she’s not there.”
“The Silver Conference Room.” Mila’s brow furrowed. “That’s where she holds meetings with her most important associates I’ve overheard in the past.”
“How long do these meetings usually last?”
“Hours sometimes. Especially if she’s negotiating trade deals.” Mila thought about Kurg’s similar business meetings at his estate.
Brivul led Mila slowly through the winding corridors. Footsteps echoed ahead—multiple guards approaching fast.
“In here.” He yanked open a storage closet door and pulled Mila inside.
The space was tiny, barely large enough for his serpentine form. Mila pressed close against his chest, her breath warm on his scales. The scent of her flooded his senses. His arms tightened instinctively around her waist.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t move.” The words came out rougher than intended.
Her fingers splayed across his chest, steadying herself as boots thundered past their hiding spot. The touch sent lightning through his blood. His mate, so close, so perfect. Every instinct screamed to claim her, mark her right here.
“They’re gone.” Mila’s voice wavered.
Focus. The mission came first. He couldn’t let his mating drive cloud his judgment, no matter how right she felt in his arms.
“Let me check.” He cracked the door, scanning the hall. “Clear.”
They slipped out, and Brivul immediately missed her warmth. But the loss helped clear his head. They had a job to do.
“The conference room should be around the next corner,” Mila whispered.
Brivul nodded, forcing his thoughts away from the closet and how perfectly she’d fit in his arms.
“Stay behind me.” He slithered forward, every sense alert for danger. The sooner they delivered the evidence, the sooner he could tell her about the future they could have together.
If she’d have him.
The ornate double doors of the Silver Conference Room loomed ahead, voices murmuring behind the thick wood.
Before long, Brivul watched the last of Talis’s associates file out of the conference room, their silk robes rustling against the marble floor. He cataloged each exit along with the weight of the knife against his scales. Only Talis remained inside at the long obsidian table.
“We could rush her now.” Mila suggested. “While she’s alone.”
The touch sent electricity through his blood, but he forced himself to focus. A direct confrontation could end badly—for Mila especially.
“Or we track her to her office.” He kept his voice low, tasting the air for approaching threats. “More private. Less chance of guards interrupting.”
“But more time for something to go wrong.”
She had a point. His military training screamed at him to control the situation, choose the battlefield. But this wasn’t war. This was infiltration. One poor choice, and Mila would pay the price.
Through the door, he watched Talis gather her papers that were scattered across the table. The kingpin moved with calculated grace, her skin gleaming in the afternoon light. No weapons were visible, but that meant nothing in these circles.
“If we wait, we risk losing her.” Mila shifted closer, her warmth distracting. “She might have another meeting.”
“If we rush in, we risk everything.” His tail coiled tighter, combat-ready. “One shout brings every guard running.”
A servant entered the conference room, head bowed. “Lady Talis, your afternoon appointments await.”
“Tell them I’ll be there shortly.”
Brivul’s muscles tensed. Time was running out. He could grab Mila and flee, find another way to save her sister. But the fierce determination in her eyes told him she wouldn’t run. His mate was no coward.
Suddenly, heavy boots thundered around the corner, closing in on their position. Without another conscious thought, Brivul yanked Mila through the conference room doors, his combat instincts taking control. His tail wrapped protectively around her smaller form as they burst into the room.
Talis’s head snapped up from her papers, her blue eyes widening. Her fingers froze mid-motion over the documents on the obsidian table. The afternoon sun streaming through tall windows caught the jewels adorning her elaborate headdress, casting rainbow prisms across her startled face.
Brivul’s muscles coiled tight, ready to strike if needed. He positioned himself between Mila and the kingpin, his height allowing him to tower over the seated woman. His tongue flicked, tasting the air. No guards approached behind them, but that could change in seconds.
The silence stretched, broken only by the rustle of silk as Talis slowly straightened in her chair. Her gaze darted between them, calculating, assessing—the kind of look that had likely ended many lives.
Behind him, Mila’s breath came in short bursts, her heart racing against his scales where she pressed close. No matter what happened next, he would keep her safe.