Chapter 67
+25 BONUS
I nodded slowly, then thanked him. My voice barely carried. The name rang in my chest like a bell.
Not an hour later, I was summoned to the infirmary. Elder Thorne, who’d collapsed again early in the summit, had asked for me specifically.
The light in the room was low. Clean. His eyes were open and alert, though his skin looked pale, like it belonged to someone halfway between two worlds.
“That locket,” he rasped, gesturing faintly toward my collar. “It looks like one I saw long ago.”
I touched it unconsciously. “It was my mother’s.”
His mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile. “She would be proud. I’ve watched you speak. You don’t talk like someone chasing power. You talk like someone who wants to protect people.”
I swallowed. I didn’t have a reply.
“We’ve had many kings,” he added. “Few protect the way your Alpha does. That might matter more than titles.”
I thought of Richard—his steadiness, his quiet wariness, the way he didn’t reach for things until he was sure he wouldn’t break them. And I thought of how he’d stood beside me without making it about him. About us.
Thorne’s hand found my wrist as I stood to go. His grip was light, but urgent.
“If you want answers,” he said, “ask about the Red Sentries. And ask soon.”
The way he said it made my pulse skip. I wanted to ask more–who the Red Sentries were, what they did, and why the urgency— but before I could open my mouth, a nurse stepped into the room, her tone gentle but firm as she informed me it was time for his medication. Thorne gave a slow nod, and his hand slipped from mine. I stood reluctantly, offering a small smile that he returned with something quiet and knowing. The questions burned in my throat as I left, unspoken but alive.
The package was waiting when I returned to my suite.
A single pressed flower. Fragile, nearly crumbled to dust. And beneath it, a note written in thin, sharp handwriting:
Red Fang was never one of us.
I pinned it to the map beside the sector routes, letting my fingers linger a moment too long. My hands trembled slightly. Not from fear. From knowing I was closer to something. To what, I still didn’t know.
What did it mean? Was it a warning? A denial? A trick?
I stared.
And stared.
Until the lines on the page blurred into fog.
When the knock came, it was soft but certain.
Richard stood at the threshold, a worn file in his hand and a shadow under his eyes. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His tie was gone. He looked like someone who had been up all night chasing the truth and found only more questions.
“There’s more,” he said, stepping inside. “And it points to David.”
I didn’t ask how he knew. I just cleared the floor. A silent agreement settled between us, woven through too many shared glances and almosts.
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Chapter 67
+25 BONUS
We sat side by side, knees brushing, the papers spread between us like battle plans. His shoulder pressed against mine–warm, unmoving. Neither of us pulled away. Somewhere under the table, our legs touched. And stayed.
“Do you ever wish we’d met under different circumstances?” I asked, eyes on the page in front of me.
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was almost a whisper. “I only wish we’d had more time.”
I looked up. So did he.
And for a long moment, that was all we did–look.
Outside, storm clouds gathered above the compound. A low rumble rolled in the distance, and the shared door between our adjoining rooms stayed cracked open.
But we both noticed when the wind pushed it open just a little more.
A line was waiting there.
And we were getting closer to it.
Chapter 68
