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I even bartered with a wolf for a bedtime story his grandmother once told him as a pup. I pieced it all together, fragment by fragment, and a little over two decades ago, I did it. I found her.

The Daughter of Flames was mine.

Even better, the transfer process is finally, after years of failure, showing results. It’s almost perfect.

And once it is, everything will change.

The thought makes me smile. No more snide remarks from vampires about “lesser bloodlines.” No more being dismissed as merely a human. No more being treated as disposable.

My grandfather was right about one thing. Ambition is the only legacy that matters. And mine will outlive them all.

The first step is my deal with Alexander. Profitable for me in many ways. He funds my research, we work to gather the Omegas together, and he’s allowed to take the defects off my hands.

I scowl. Of course, Alexander seems to think he’s the one in charge, conveniently forgetting that without me, there would be no transfer. No power to be had at all. His dream of an army to take down the vampires and force them into submission will be nothing more than smoke in the wind without me.

He wants the girl.

He overestimates her importance. She is nothing more than a backup, but he doesn’t need to know that. Let him believe what he wants. He can go on pretending he will eventually stand at the head of my army with my daughter in chains for as long as he likes.

Once I take what I need from Idril, no one will find her body. Problem solved. To be fair, his suggestion to sell her first heat does have a bit of merit. I can admit that much.

I turn back to the vault, jaw tight.

Nine vials. Not ten. Nine.

I can handle this myself, of course. Track down the thief and recover the vial with no one the wiser. Alexander certainly doesn’t need to know.

And yet…

If I’m wrong, and whoever took it figures out what they have…

I’ll need backup. And Alexander has resources I don’t.

I pull out my cell and open the contacts list. I don’t have to scroll far before finding the name I’m looking for.

Alexander.

This isn’t a weakness, I remind myself. This is a strategy.

My finger hovers over the name for only a moment before I force myself to make the call. He picks up almost immediately.

“Yes?”

His voice is clipped. It slithers into my ear like a parasite, taking up residence in my brain. I fucking hate it.

I flex my fist by my side, unable to tear my eyes away from the cryo-vault where all my hopes and dreams stand. All lined up in neat little rows.

All but one.

Turning my attention back to the call, I open my mouth to explain. I mean to reassure him that I have the situation under control before divulging specifics. I mean to downplay it. I mean to assert my dominance.

To my horror, what comes out instead is, “We have a problem.”

Chapter 13

Vaelenor

Ilost my shirt an hour ago.