Finally, in the velvet-lined hallway outside Ashford’s box, I stopped.
“I held up my end,” I said, voice low and sharp. “I gave her a fight. I bled for her. The deal was—”
Felix cut me off. “The deal changed.”
I stared at him. “She said I could trade…”
“She lied.”
The words hit harder than any blow. I stood frozen, rage boiling under my skin.
“She won’t let him go,” Felix continued. “Not unless you stay. Not unless you work for her.”
My hands clenched. “She used me.”
He didn’t argue.
“She never planned to release him, did she?”
Felix met my eyes. And in that rare, quiet honesty of his, I saw it.
“No,” he said softly. “She didn’t.”
Chapter 33
Thorne
The knock at my door wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be. Two royal guards waited outside—silent, tense, unsmiling.
I already knew.
They didn’t speak as they escorted me through the stone halls, past sentries who avoided my eyes. I walked with my hands loose at my sides, chin high, as if I still had standing.
But I could feel it. The shift.
I was no longer the King’s favoured Shade. I was the man who’d let the shadowmancer slip through his fingers.
The double doors to the throne room opened with a groan. The familiar gold and obsidian banners felt heavier now, like they hung not in honour—but warning.
Ashton sat upon the throne, legs crossed, fingers laced beneath his chin. Perfect posture. Regal silence. But the fury was there—in the tightness of his jaw, the stillness of his hands.
Vasquez stood to his right, smiling faintly, like a snake tasting blood in the air.
I stopped before them and bowed just enough to follow protocol.
“Your Majesty.”
Ashton tilted his head. “Commander.”
His voice was calm. Polished. That was worse.
He let the silence stretch until it threatened to split the room.
Then: “Is there something you want to tell me?”
A loaded question. One that begged for betrayal.
I kept my face neutral. “You’ve heard, then.”
