He drags in a breath, his frustration crackling between us.
“We still have a week. If we don’t have another way by then, fine. Mark him.”
I shake my head, my voice coming out low and raw. “I can’t wait a week, Sin.”
It’s the truth that’s been chewing through me all night. “I can barely concentrate long enough to read a page. Between the pain... and the rage at that bitch and her games...” I clench my fists at my sides. “I need him back. Even if it’s just so I can kick his royal ass across the palace courtyard. Then maybe...” My voice catches. “Maybe I’ll figure out if there’s anything left of us.”
My eyes lock onto a tiny freckle on Sin’s forehead, and I glare at it like it’s responsible for my entire life falling apart.
“And if I can’t get him back,” I mutter darkly, “then I’ll find a way to make that whore bleed and turn her into mulch before I die.”
A small, crooked smile tugs at Sin’s mouth — the kind that says he’s both worried about me and weirdly proud.
“You’re a bloodthirsty little thing,” he says, almost fondly. “Just like that spunky wolf of yours.”
He glances over my shoulder for a second before meeting my eyes again, fierce and steady.
“Fine,” he says. “Let’s try it. Let’s force Draxis out.”
Relief and dread slam into me at once.
“Grab a few books you think might help,” he adds. “If this goes sideways — and it will, I’m sure of it — I’ve got a way to get us out fast. Because we won’t be able to stay here after.”
I smirk and smack his chest lightly with the back of my hand.
“Good boy, Sin.”
He growls under his breath, glowering at me like I just insulted his ancestors.
“Don’t play around like that,” he snarls. “My wolf is vicious.”
“Sure,” I say sweetly, grabbing a stack of books. “Vicious like a big, angry puppy, I’m sure.”
He curses under his breath, but he’s already moving. “You haven’t even met him,” he grumbles.
We find Draven walking down a wide hallway, Amira glued to his side. She’s talking a mile a minute, smiling like a damn hyena, but he’s clearly not listening. He moves like a marionette with broken strings — jerky, hollow-eyed, completely wrong. Anyone with half a brain could see it now. Even the other shifters passing by shoot him sideways glances, whispering to each other.
The subtlety from before is gone. Now the rot is obvious.
I don’t waste time. I grab Sin by the wrist and drag him in front of them.
“Hello, Draven,” I whisper, smiling sweetly at the man who’s supposed to be mine.
His eyes don’t even flicker.
There’s no use for other words. I turn sharply — and kiss Sin.
Deep. Messy. Tongue and moans and desperate fingers clutching at each other like we’re about to tear our clothes off in the middle of this hallway. Sin doesn’t miss a beat. His hand tangles in my hair, pulling just enough to make my knees threaten to give out. His teeth scrape over my lower lip, and the sound that rips out of me is so obscene, so raw, that if anyone still doubted our act, they’re now scandalized for life.
“Oh wow. This is disgusting,” Amira spits somewhere in the background.
She can go choke on her own venom for all I care.
And then — low and rumbling, almost buried under the noise — I hear it. A snarl.
I crack one eye open and steal a peek.
No Draxis yet. Just Draven, standing there, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turn white, his breathing ragged. The empty look is flickering — like a lightbulb about to die.
