16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
MIRO
The lock seals behind him with a soft hiss and I’m off the bed, Percy in my hand. I don’t stop to think about my twisting stomach, or how cold I am now he’s not here.
He’s not a good male. He hasn’t pretended to be, and yet he’s gentle. Caring. There’s a side to him I don’t think he knew was there.
He only shows that to me. The part of him no one sees is mine. A gift.
And yet…and yet, I still layer my own lock code over his, standing close enough to the panel that my breath fogs the screen, Percy running the authentication loop while I set the parameters. My fingers are steady, which surprises me, because I’m anything but steady under my skin.
Finishing the sequence, I press my forehead to the threshold, just for a second. The metal is cool against my heated skin, and I feel a little calmer.
Trusting Zavin. The thought almost pulls an unbelieving laugh from me. I trust a crime lord. It’s his House that I don’t trust.
Am I here because I have to be… or because I want to be? The answer tears me in half. Good arguments for both.
My thoughts drift back to the moment before he left. The way he looked at me after saying he’d recover the node. The strange softness that settled over his face, as though he’d already made a decision he hasn’t shared yet.
Something I’d rather tell you when this is over.
What did he mean by that?
At the time I was too distracted by everything I’d seen on the security feed, too tangled up in my own fear to ask another question.
Now I can’t stop wondering whether he was about to make me a promise, ask me to stay, or tell me something that would have changed everything between us.
I let him walk out the door carrying words I may never hear.
Pacing the room, rubbing my palms over my arms as though I can shake off the heaviness clinging to me.
It doesn’t work. All I can do is cling to the one certainty I have.
He took Resh with him. He won’t be facing Kazren alone.
He’ll come back, and when he does, I’ll make him tell me what he’d been about to say.
The rest can wait.
A soft chime sounds from the entrance. Zavin must have forgotten something.
I hurry across the chamber, quickly disengaging the extra lock I’ve added. The last thing I need is for him to realize I reinforced his security. My fingers brush the control panel and the door slides open.
Three males stand on the other side.
The one in front is built like a wall, his grey uniform stretched across shoulders broad enough to block the doorway on their own. Lord Sethrak’s silver sigil sits at his throat.
No.
No, no, no.
I stumble back. It’s a stupid move because they step across the threshold, the two fanning out behind the monolithic male, and now I’ve trapped myself in a chamber with three large predators. The door slides shut with a quiet hiss behind them.
My pulse slams against my throat as I glance towards the bedroom, the bathroom, searching for somewhere, anywhere, that isn’t here.
“There must be some mistake.” I force the words past a mouth that’s suddenly gone dry. “These are Underlord Zavin’s private quarters. You can’t just walk in here.”
The large male doesn’t lift his stare off me. “Everything in this House belongs to my master. You’re coming with us.”
I back away, buying inches because I can’t buy time. “You can’t take me. I’m a contractor. If Lord Sethrak wants to see me, he’ll need to speak to Underlord Zavin first.”
It’s a desperate bluff, and he sees right through it.
“That’s almost adorable. You think you have a choice. Come quietly. It’ll be easier on you if you don’t fight.” The male laughs, the sound low and ugly.
As if I’m going to hand myself over without one.
Shoving Percy behind the stack of monitors before the first male reaches me. He disappears from sight just as a hand closes on empty air where I was standing.
Ducking beneath the next grab, I run. The edge of the desk slams into my hip hard enough to jar my teeth, but I keep going. The entrance is only a few strides away. If I can reach it, I still have a chance, I could—
A guard steps into my path. Throwing myself sideways, my shoulder crashes into his thigh.
He stumbles, swearing, and for one impossible second I think I’ve found the gap, but rough fingers clamp around my arm.
The wrench is so violent it tears a cry from my throat.
Spinning into the pain, I sink my teeth into the arm holding me.
The male bellows, his grip loosening just enough for me to rip myself free.
Run.
Two steps, and I’m grabbed again. Reaching for anything — one of the books from Zavin’s shelf. It swings up hard and the corner catches another male across the mouth. Blood sprays across the floor.
The male staggers backwards clutching his face, buying me another heartbeat. Lunging for the door as a heavy weight crashes into my back.
Slamming to the ground, my breath punching out of me. Pain explodes through my ribs as another male jams his knee between my shoulders, pinning me beneath his weight.
Air.
Can’t—
Hands seize my arms and haul me upright. My shoulder screams as they wrench it behind my back. I kick blindly, catching someone’s shin. A boot slams into mine. Someone curses. It isn’t enough.
Driving my heel down again, twisting, bucking, trying to tear free, but every opening disappears before I can reach it. One male pins both my wrists together while another catches my legs. Suddenly I’m barely touching the floor, carried more than dragged.
“Stop it, female. Or I’ll crack your head open,” a males grunts.
I believe him.
The chamber swims past me as they drag me across the floor. The chair lies on its side. Books are scattered everywhere. A shelf hangs crooked. Percy remains hidden behind the monitors, his screen dark now beneath their shadow.
None of them even glance his way. At least he’s safe.
The corridors pass in the grip of two enforcers, my arms wrenched up behind me at an angle that makes walking normally impossible, so I half-shuffle, half-stumble, and every jostle sends a white flare up through the joint.
When Zavin gets back to that room, he’ll come for me. That’s never been the question. The question is whether he’ll reach me before Lord Sethrak decides what to do with me.
“You’ve made a mistake,” I say, twisting against the grip on my arms. “Underlord Zavin is going to tear this House apart when he finds me gone.”
The male dragging me doesn’t even look at me. “Better him than Lord Sethrak.”
The words settle heavily in my stomach. Whatever waits for me at the end of this corridor is frightening enough that three hardened enforcers would rather face Zavin’s wrath than disappoint their lord. That doesn’t leave me with much hope.
They march me through corridors I’ve never seen before, away from the residential wing and into the private heart of the House.
The walls grow quieter. Servants disappear.
Even the lighting changes, warmer here, throwing a gold glow across polished stone that looks untouched by the grime of the Warrens below.
One final set of doors slides open.
The orange haze from outside filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, washing the chamber in muted light.
Lord Sethrak stands with his hands clasped behind his back, looking out across the Warrens. He doesn’t acknowledge us immediately. Only when the doors seal shut does he turn.
He’s smaller than Zavin, but somehow commands more of the space.
The bronze scales along his face have darkened with age, the amber in his eyes cooler, emptied of the warmth I’ve seen in his son.
He studies me without hurry, his stare travelling from my bruised shoulder to the blood drying beneath my split lip before returning to my face.
His face is nothing more than a carved mask.
Maybe that’s what frightens me most. Not that he’s hiding what he thinks.
That there might be nothing there to hide.
That he really is as cold and as expressionless on the inside as he is on the outside.
My life rests in his hands, and I know exactly what it’s worth to him.
Nothing.
If he decides I die, the males holding me won’t hesitate. They’ll carry out the order, clean the blood from the floor and move on with their day. By tonight, I’ll already be forgotten.
“You’re the human who hacked our network,” he says.
“I’m just a contractor. Underlord Zavin asked me to clean the ventilation shafts,” I say.
Sethrak’s expression doesn’t shift. “And yet a simple contractor was found in my unruly son’s private quarters.”
I shift carefully, biting back the protest from my shoulder.
Fire lances through the joint with every small movement, a sharp reminder of how easily they’d wrenched my arm behind my back.
Every second I keep them talking is another second for Zavin to realize I’m gone.
Every answer is time. Every question is another breath.
“That’s private. Between Zavin and me.” I lift my chin.
Sethrak’s eyes glitter, cold and depthless. “Nothing private happens in my House.” The words fall so quietly they almost disappear into the room. “Stupid, insufferable human.”
Movement catches my eye as Kazren steps out from the shadows in the corner. The orange light from outside catches the edges of his scales, throwing jagged highlights across his face.
His lips thin into a cold, satisfied smile while his father’s equally cold eyes travel slowly over me.
They know we’ve traced Kazren. They know exactly what Zavin will do next because there was only one thing he could do.
He needed the physical logs before he could accuse his brother.
He’d never risk taking suspicions to Lord Sethrak without proof.
Zavin is methodical. Predictable in his honor.
They’d counted on it.