Epilogue
I flick open my phone with a practiced swipe, the screen lighting up against the dimming sky. The last rays of the sun are fighting a losing battle against the encroaching dark, and I step out onto the balcony of the Bellanova’s Presidential Suite, looking out at the neon glow of Oasis.
“Vance Solace,” the voice at the other end is all business, but I can hear the underlying tension. She’s been riding shotgun with me through every dirty deal and back alley negotiation, but this…this is different. “Got your eyes on the stars?”
“Something like that,” I mutter, leaning against the railing, my gaze sweeping over the landscape. Oasis sprawls beneath me, a tangle of shadows and secrets. And there, miles away, Pacific City glows like a beacon of chaos.
I can damn near feel its pulse from here.
“Talk to me about Gunnar and Nero,” I say, skipping the pleasantries.
This is not a social call.
“Those two are making waves,” she replies, the sound of papers rustling in the background. “They’ve got Aisling with them now. She’s rallying the omegas, and the Bluestockings are eating it up—offering her an army. It’s like she’s become their damn messiah overnight.”
“Stargazer’s got gravity, no denying that,” I acknowledge with a grimace. My fingers clench tight around the phone. “Any idea what their next move is?”
“Hard to say, but with Aisling on their side, they’ve got an edge. And that means trouble for you, Vance.” Her voice is like gravel, gritty and grinding. “You’re getting boxed in.”
“That’s when I’m most dangerous,” I snap, feeling the familiar flare of defiance. Out here, with the city’s heartbeat thrumming in the distance and the night air cool on my skin, I’m reminded that this is my game.
They might have their moves, but I’ve always got an ace up my sleeve.
“How are things in the city?” I ask when she doesn’t respond.
“Quiet, too quiet if you ask me,” she finally says after a moment that stretches just a bit too long. “And I don’t have to remind you that Inari Toure’s no substitute for the power plays back home. She’s small-time compared to what’s brewing.”
“Small-time?” I scoff. “Inari’s got her fingers in more pies than you know. Don’t underestimate her.”
“Maybe. But your real business is back in Pacific City,” she counters. “If Aisling’s who you want, Vance, you need to stake your claim before someone else does. She’s not one to sit back and let the world pass her by. If there’s power to be had, she’ll take it.”
“Is that advice or a warning?” I ask, my tone edged with annoyance.
“Call it what you will. Just remember, Aisling Faye won’t wait around for anyone. Not even you.”
“Nobody tells me what to do,” I growl into the phone, the alpha in me bristling at the suggestion of being under someone’s thumb. “Not even you.”
“Vance—“
“Save it.” I cut her off, my decision made as I end the call with a decisive click. The line goes dead, and the silence that follows feels like an echo of the emptiness stretching between me and Pacific City.
I pocket my phone, my gaze lingering on the distant city lights. The night air is a caress against my tanned skin, but I barely feel it. Right now, all I can think about are the pieces moving on the chessboard that is Pacific City.
Gunnar and Nero, Aisling and the damn Bluestockings…Inari, Rook, Luka, Oberon—enemies looking more like allies with each passing day, allies like enemies.
And there’s me, caught in the web of loyalties and betrayals, trying to stay one step ahead.
I used to call the shots.
Now I can barely keep up.
Aisling has become more than just a pawn or a prize; she’s an omega who doesn’t play by the rules. She’s mated to Gunnar, sure, but their bond is fraying at the edges, worn thin by tension and unspoken turmoil.
I hoped to capitalize on that.
Now, it seems they’re back together.
The very idea that she’s within someone else’s orbit grates on me. My hands tighten on the railing until my knuckles turn white, the metal creaking a protest. My instincts scream louder than the bustling noise of the city below—the alpha urge to claim, to possess, to protect.
It’s time to act.
I straighten up, rolling my shoulders back, my mind ticking through the consequences like a loaded gun cycling rounds. This isn’t about territory or power plays now. It’s personal—a burning need deep in my bones that won’t be quenched until Aisling is mine.
“Damn it, Aisling,” I whisper into the night, a vow and a promise. “You don’t know it yet, but you’re going to be mine.”
The sounds of the city fill the air around me, a distant song of chaos and life. But above it all, there’s a silence waiting to be broken—a challenge to be met head-on.
Decision made, I push off the railing and stride back inside, leaving the tranquil view of the city behind.
I’ll have to tread carefully, play the game with precision. But the stakes are clear: win or lose, I’m all in.
The game is changing.
And I intend to be the one holding the cards when it does.
Find out if the pack can unseat the Archangel in:
SACRIFICE
West Coast Inkverse: Book 6