“Move,” Scar-face said, like I was furniture that needed rearranging.
“Where to this time? The torture dungeon? The disappointment chamber?” I fell into step between them, noting how their hands stayed glued to their sword hilts. “Or are we going somewhere fun for once?”
“Just walk.”
“Wow. Riveting conversation. You guys must be absolute hits at parties.”
The other guard—new guy, hadn’t seen him before—actually cracked a smile. “She always this mouthy?”
“Every damn day,” Scar-face muttered. “It’s like escorting a pissed-off parrot.”
I was gearing up for another comeback when we stopped. In front of a gilded door that screamed “I have money and questionable taste.” Definitely not the woods. Definitely not chains.
This was worse.
“Oh, fuck me,” I breathed.
“Language,” Scar-face said, but he was already walking away, leaving me standing there like an abandoned package.
The door opened before I could run. Because of course it did.
Valen’s private chamber was basically what you’d expect from someone with a god complex and a decorator on speed. Firelight, gold everything, shelves of dusty scrolls that probably hadn’t been touched since he moved in. The whole place reeked of sweat and red wine.
“Come in, Lucy.” He was sitting behind this massive wooden desk, casual as fuck, like we were old friends about to catch up over coffee. “Close the door.”
“I’ll stand here, thanks.” I stayed planted by the entrance, calculating how many steps it would take to bolt.
“Suit yourself.” He poured two glasses of wine, the liquid looking suspiciously like blood in the firelight. “Drink?”
“Do I look like I trust anything you pour?”
“Fair point.” He took a sip from one glass, then slid the other toward me anyway. “Relax. You’re not in trouble.”
“Right. Because this setup just screams ‘casual Tuesday.’”
His laugh was silk wrapped around broken glass. “I want to offer you something.”
“Let me guess. Another chance to grovel at your feet? A special deal on my dignity?”
“Freedom.”
The word hit me like a slap. Simple. Clean. Impossible.
I stared at him. “Bullshit.”
“A chance to earn it, anyway.” He swirled his wine like he was conducting a tiny red orchestra. “Interested?”
“Depends. What’s the catch? Because with you, there’s always a catch.”
“Smart girl.” His smile was all teeth. “Tell me, what do you know about Cassian Vale?”
My blood went cold. “The psycho Alpha Prince everyone’s terrified of? Just rumors.”
“Those rumors are about to walk through our gates.” He leaned back, looking pleased with himself. “The Elders want him watched. Closely.”
“Okay, so watch him. You’ve got plenty of eager little spies.”
“None that he’ll notice.” His eyes glittered in the firelight. “But you? The broken Omega with nothing to lose? You’re perfect.”
“Perfect for what, exactly?”
He opened a drawer and pulled out a tiny glass vial. Clear liquid that seemed to shimmer with its own light.
“Getting close. Gaining his trust.” The vial clinked as he set it on the desk. “And making sure he drinks this during the full moon.”
I felt my face go blank. “You want me to poison him.”
“I want you to solve a problem.”
“By murdering someone.”
“By eliminating a threat.” He picked up the vial, holding it up to the light. “Wolfsbane. Perfected dose. His heart will stop mid-shift. Clean. Quick. Merciful, even.”
“Merciful.” I laughed, but it came out cracked. “Right. Super merciful. What makes you think I won’t just warn him?”
“Because you’re not stupid.” He set the vial down again, closer to me this time. “And because you know what happens to Omegas who disappoint their Alphas.”
The threat hung in the air. We both knew what he meant.
“Why does everyone want him dead so badly?” I asked. “What’s he done that’s got you all pissing yourselves?”
“He exists.” Valen’s voice went soft, which somehow made it worse. “Do you know what a Dire Alpha can do, Lucy? Really do?”
“Enlighten me.”
“Level cities. Command armies. Make even Elders kneel.” He took another sip of wine. “The bloodline was supposed to die out. But here he is, walking around like a loaded weapon nobody can control.”
“So you want to assassinate him before he figures out his own power.”
“I want to prevent a war.” But his smile suggested he was looking forward to one. “The question is: are you going to help me, or are you going to spend the rest of your very short life scrubbing blood out of stone?”
I stared at the vial. At him. At the gilded cage he’d built around his offer.
“What do I get?” My voice came out steady, which surprised us both.
“Your life back. No more Omega brand. No more orders. You walk away clean.”
“And you’ll leave me alone? No more surprise visits, no more threats, no more games?”
His smile widened. “Every whore finds her price eventually. Yours is freedom.”
The word hit like a physical blow. I felt every sleepless night, every cold meal, every whispered insult burning in my chest.
“You’re a piece of shit,” I said quietly.
“Yes. But I’m a piece of shit with the power to give you what you want.”
I looked at the vial again. Such a small thing to hold so much poison. So much possibility.
“He’s that dangerous?” I asked.
“Dangerous enough that the Elders are willing to break every treaty, every law, every sacred bond to see him dead.” Valen leaned forward, eyes intense. “That should tell you something.”
Yeah. It told me plenty.
It told me that maybe—just maybe—Cassian Vale was exactly the kind of dangerous I needed.
But Valen didn’t need to know that.
“Fine,” I said, reaching for the vial. “I’ll do it.”
His smile was victory and venom mixed together. “I knew you would.”
I pocketed the poison and turned to leave, but his voice stopped me at the door.
“Oh, Lucy? One more thing.”
I didn’t turn around. “What?”
“Try not to fall for him. It would be such a waste.
