Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
KHATAK
My watch comm vibrates against my wrist.
I glance down at the display, and my heart stutters.
Sutek: Meeting with Rist confirmed. Tonight, in three hours. Room 3-B. Don’t be late.
He did it. Sutek actually arranged a meeting for me. This is what I came here for. My chance to secure the alliance, to prove to my father that I’m not completely useless. My last chance to make a difference. Oh, I can make such a difference.
My chest tightens with a mixture of hope and dread.
What if I fail? What if Rist laughs me out of the room like everyone else does? What if I’m too forgettable, too insignificant, too nothing to even hold his attention long enough to present the proposal?
But what if I succeed?
The thought sends a warm flush through me. If I can secure this alliance… I could change so many things, so many lives. I’d finally be worthy of—
Her.
The thought surfaces unbidden, and I can’t push it away.
Selene.
If I prove myself, if I accomplish this mission, then maybe... maybe I’d have something to offer her. Maybe I’d be someone she could actually want.
I can’t pursue her until I’ve succeeded. Until I’m worthy. Until I have something—anything—to bring to the table besides my string of failures.
My tail twitches anxiously against my leg as I make my way through the hotel corridors.
The Halloween decorations are everywhere now—orange and black fabric, those strange ghost shapes, carved gourds with leering faces.
The amber lights cast everything in warm, welcoming tones that feel at odds with the knot of anxiety in my stomach.
The haunted house is set up in the east wing. I can see the entrance from here—cobwebs stretched across the doorway, flickering lights, unsettling sounds drifting from within.
My heart hammers just thinking about entering. There’s a reason I never joined combat missions. There’s a reason I’m not like my brother.
But standing just outside, checking something on a datapad, is Selene.
My breath catches.
She’s changed clothes since the apple bobbing.
Gone is the professional staff uniform. Now she wears dark fitted pants that hug her curves and a soft sweater that looks comfortable and soft to the touch.
Would her skin beneath be just as soft, I wonder?
My fingers itch to reach out and touch it, to touch her.
It wouldn’t take much to pull the fabric from her skin, or even let my claws rip through it.
Her hair is still pulled back, but looser now, a few more strands framing her face. I long to free it completely, to run my fingers through its silken strands.
To just hold her close.
She’s beautiful.
She looks up, and her entire face lights up when she sees me.
That smile. That genuine happiness at my presence. How is that possible? How can she look at me and smile like that?
“Khatak!” She waves, and my tail betrays me with an enthusiastic wag. “You made it!”
I close the distance between us, and suddenly she’s moving forward too, and then—
She hugs me.
Her arms wrap around my waist, her body pressing against mine, warm and soft and real.
The top of her head barely reaches my chest, and I can smell her hair—something sweet and floral.
My hands hover uncertainly for a moment before settling on her back, feeling the gentle curve of her spine, the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her sweater.
She fits against me perfectly. Like she was made to be held like this.
My heart pounds so loudly I’m certain she can hear it.
“I’m glad you came,” she murmurs against my chest, and the vibration of her voice travels through me.
“I wouldn’t miss it.” The words come out rougher than intended. I’m hyperaware of every point of contact between us—her hands splayed against my back, her cheek pressed to my sternum, the way her breath warms my skin through my shirt.
She pulls back slightly, tilting her head up to look at me, but doesn’t let go completely. Her hands remain on my sides, fingers curled in the fabric of my shirt.
“Fair warning,” she says, eyes sparkling with mischief, “I’m probably going to grab onto you a lot in there. I know intellectually that it’s all fake, but jump scares still get me every time.”
The image it conjures—Selene clinging to me, trusting me to keep her safe, seeking protection from me—sends a rush of warmth through my chest.
“I’ll protect you,” I say before I can stop myself.
Idiot. You’re not a warrior. You’re not capable of protecting anyone. You’re going to embarrass yourself and—
But she’s smiling at me like I’ve said something wonderful instead of something ridiculous.
“My hero,” she says, and there’s gentle teasing in her tone, but also something warmer. Something that makes my chest feel too small to contain everything I’m feeling.
She finally releases me, though one hand trails down my arm until her fingers tangle with mine. The contact sends sparks up my skin.
“Ready?” she asks.
No. Absolutely not. I’m about to walk into a deliberately frightening environment, which goes against every instinct I possess, despite what my family tried to drill into me. A Volscian warrior would stride through without flinching. My brother would probably laugh at the cheap theatrics.
But Selene is looking at me with such trust, such openness, and her hand is warm in mine.
“Ready,” I lie, guiding us forward.
Cobwebs catch at our clothes as we push through the doorway. The lighting inside is dim and flickering, casting shadows that seem to move on their own. The air smells musty and slightly sweet.
Selene’s grip on my hand tightens immediately.
“Okay, so this is definitely creepier than I remembered from the setup,” she mutters.
I squeeze her hand back, trying to project a confidence I absolutely do not feel. My skin is already prickling with unease, my tail curled tight against my leg.
We move forward into what appears to be a decrepit hallway. The walls are draped in tattered fabric, and portraits hang at odd angles—their subjects’ eyes seeming to follow us as we pass. A low, discordant soundtrack plays in the background, punctuated by distant screams and creaking sounds.
Something drops from the ceiling ahead—just a piece of rubber designed to look like an eight-legged creature, but I still flinch.
“Oh my god,” Selene whispers, pressing closer to my side. “I didn’t even see that spider. It’s just special effects.” She mutters to herself as a reminder that it’s all fake.
Right. Special effects. Not real threats. My rational mind knows this.
My instincts, however, are screaming at me to get out. To get her out.
We round a corner into a room decorated to look like an abandoned laboratory. Beakers filled with glowing liquid line the shelves, alongside jars containing what look disturbingly like preserved body parts. Selene makes a small sound of disgust.
“That’s actually gross,” she says. “Props to whoever designed this.”
A small explosion rattles the room. From one of the beakers, bright light flares.
Selene shrieks and practically climbs up my side, her arms wrapping around my neck, her legs scrambling for purchase against my hip. I catch her instinctively, one arm banding around her waist to support her weight.
“Sorry, sorry!” Selene gasps, but she doesn’t immediately let go. She’s trembling slightly, her breath coming fast against my neck. “I knew the explosion was coming and it still got me.”
I glance back at the chaos, seeing how the glowing liquid is flowing across the table, over the sides… and is caught up in a bucket, to be recycled for the next victim.
“It’s fine.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. Not at all scared. I’m definitely not overheating because her body is wrapped around me. She’s trusting me completely to hold her up, to keep her safe. The weight of her feels good. Right. “I’ve got you.”
She slides down slowly, her body dragging against mine in a way that makes my pulse spike. But she doesn’t let go of my hand when her feet touch the floor.
“Okay. Onward.” She squares her shoulders with visible determination. “We’ve got this.”
We don’t got this. Not even a little bit.
The next room is worse. It’s set up to look like a forest at night, complete with artificial trees and a fog machine that’s working overtime. Strange lights flicker in the artificial branches. Something howls in the distance.
Selene presses against my side, and I put my arm around her shoulders without thinking. She fits there perfectly, her head tucked just under my chin. I can feel every rapid beat of her heart where our bodies connect.
Protect her, something primal whispers in my mind. Keep her safe.
For once in my life, I feel like I could. Like I’m capable of being what someone needs.
A branch snaps somewhere to our left. Selene’s fingers dig into my side, and I instinctively pull her closer, positioning myself slightly between her and the sound.
“It’s probably just a motion sensor,” she murmurs, but her voice wavers.
My tail uncurls slightly, ready to wrap around her if needed. Every sense I have is on high alert, scanning for threats, tracking movement in the shadows—
Something pale lunges from between two trees with an inhuman screech.
I scream.
Not a shout. Not a yell. An actual, honest-to-gods scream—high-pitched and terrified and completely devoid of any dignity whatsoever.
The sound hangs in the air for a mortified second before I clamp my mouth shut, my entire body going rigid.
No.
No, no, no.
A Volscian warrior would never—
My brother would have stood his ground, probably laughed, maybe even complimented the actor on their technique.
My father would have looked at me with that expression of profound disappointment I know so well.
I just proved, once again, that I’m exactly what they’ve always said: weak, unsuitable, not worthy of the family name. Not capable of doing anything right.
The actor has already retreated back into the shadows. The room has gone quiet except for the ambient sound effects.