It is too early for this shit. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No, Reina. Frankly, we haven’t. You murdered my cousin and I still kind of hate you for it, alright? Now please leave me the Hel alone.”
Her eyebrows raise, eyes widening to reveal more of her black scleras. I’m not sure if she didn’t put two and two together, or if she just thought I’d never find out, but it feels good to get it off my chest. I think this whole time, she must have believed I was unaware of her involvement in my cousin’s death, but that couldn’t be further from reality.
“I’m sorry,” she says, voice soft and low.
I nod. “Thanks, but it’s a little late for that?—”
“Good morning,” Raph sings as he enters the tent, completely disrupting the tension that was brewing in the air between us like coffee sitting in a pot.
I look away, grabbing a slice of toast and heading back towards my tent. Nothing is happening right now, so why does it feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest?
My mind barters between wanting to hold Yasmeena, and wanting to never see her again.
I can’t tell if my father raised me to find intimacy repulsive so that I would never let anyone too close,orif the way I was raised makes me so desperate for connection that the second I experience any I’m forced to sink my claws into it out of fear they’ll leave.
Either way, my head feels like a warzone.
“Hey,” Yasmeena says from further down the path, pulling me out of my toxic mental spiral.
“Hey,” I return.
She looks different. Hair brushed back out of her face, dressed in black slacks and a deep purple blouse. Fancy, and more official.
“Are you ready?”
I nod, and we make our way to One Haeresis Plaza for the first officialfelion election. Unlike positions like governor and king, which are monarchies, other communities have their own ways of electing more localized leadership.
For lupion packs, it’s different. Alphas aren’t like government officials—voted on or chosen through lineage—it’s molecular, something we feel. The system does hold a kind of hierarchy, but it’s based on both bloodline and strength. Here, the felion will vote on an official representative. They’ll be tasked with working in tandem with other officials like Raph, Luc, and the lupion packs, in order to ensure felion are treated equally.
I hope Yasmeena is chosen. She’s definitely the most qualified for the job.
The monorail takes us from the entertainment district to the economic district. The floor beneath us glows a magicite green, and I hold onto a chrome pole as we fly past buildings and skyscrapers until we’re next to Luc’s office. The tallest building on the street, Haeresis Plaza looms over us, the sight as daunting as I feel.
Inside, an older demon is waiting for us at the front desk.
“Good… morning… girls,” she says, voice slow and wobbly.
“Hey, Baph. Where are we meeting?” Yasmeena asks.
“Third… third floor, first door on… the right,” Baph answers, pointing to the elevator.
Pressing the button and stepping inside, I breathe in Yasmeena’s scent—jasmine and patchouli—as I try to slow down the quick pace of my beating heart.
“Why are you so antsy?” she asks, taking her fingers in mine.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Just worried about how things will go.” A half-truth. I’m not sure why everything is bothering me now instead of earlier, but I know why I’m freaking out.
This is it. This is the end of the road. After this, if everything goes to plan, they will sign the treaty in the upcoming weeks. I should be happy about it. Hel, Iwantto be happy about it. We’ve worked so hard, but it feels impossible to be joyful about the very thing that will take her fromme.
Yasmeena and Taryn and Nico and all the good that just entered my life will be washed away with the scribbling of a few pens, and I’ll be forced to face the music. Kill Draven and ruin this beautiful thing developing, or refuse and lose my pack.
Either way, I lose half my soul.
“We’ve got this,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze as the elevator opens.
The election room is long and wide, with floor-to-ceiling mirrors on the west wall that show off a nice view of the city. There are rows of chairs filled with felion. Some I recognize from our community work, others I don’t, but there have to be at least fifty people here.
Someone ushers us towards the front, where two empty seats rest between Claudia and the aisle, and we sit down as we wait for things to begin.
