The automatic glass doors of Evermont Holdings hissed shut behind us as we stepped out of the company. I loosened my tie, finally allowing my shoulders to relax.
"Seventy percent," Austin muttered, falling into step beside me as we descended the granite steps. "You've officially painted a bullseye on your back the size of the Great Hall, Kaeren. Julian won't just dig for dirt on you now; he'll hire an army of excavators."
I shrugged, my eyes scanning the perimeter. "Let him dig. By the time he finds the hole, I'll be sitting on the throne, and he'll be the one falling into it. Get to that shack, Austin. I want her secured before the sun sets."
Austin stopped at the base of the stairs with an uncharacteristically hesitant expression. "I don't think me going alone is going to have the impact we need."
I paused, turning to look at him. "Meaning?"
"Drodd and Imogen are scavengers. If a right-hand man shows up with a briefcase of cash, they'll haggle. But if you go? If the Prince himself steps into that rot? The sheer terror of your presence will end the conversation before it begins. You need to be the one to sign that contract, Kaeren. You need to own her soul, and you can't delegate that."
"Impossible," I countered, a dry laugh escaping me. "I can't exactly take a royal motorcade into the shacks without Lynn's spies reporting it back to her within five minutes. Royalties don't set foot in the mud, Austin. You know the rules."
A cunning smile began to spread across his face. "You don't have to go as a Prince. Let's get back to the estate. I have an idea."
____
Twenty minutes later, I stood in the center of my private dressing room, staring at the reflection of a man I didn't recognize. I had changed into a pair of dark, heavy-duty denim jeans and a plain black hoodie. A worn leather jacket hung over my shoulders, and a baseball cap was pulled low over my brow.
"Discreet," Austin noted, handing me a pair of heavy work boots. "You look like a High Class enforcer on a private debt collection run. Common enough that people look away, but dangerous enough that they don't ask questions."
"I feel like a peasant," I muttered, though Vane was humming with a strange excitement. "If I start developing a sudden craving for canned beans and bad infrastructure, I'm holding you responsible."
"I like the shadows, man," Vane whispered. "Imagine having to kiss her under the moon? Won't that be the sweetest experience of our lives?"
"Kiss Waverly under the moon? Vane, your romantic standards are as low as the sea level. I'm buying her to show her the consequences of being a beautiful glitch, not to write poetry."
However, I couldn't deny the way my lips heated up or the flush starting to materialize on my cheeks. It's clearly just the lack of ventilation in this hoodie. I'm being suffocated by cheap cotton.
"The car is waiting in the service tunnel," Austin said. "The staff on this floor are on my payroll. They won't see a thing."
We moved through the back corridors of the palace. As we neared the exit of the lower parking garage, a flash of movement in the alcove near the wine cellar caught my eye. I stopped, my hand instinctively reaching for the tactical knife strapped to my belt. In the dim, amber light of the corridor, two figures were pressed together against the stone wall. I recognized the shock of blonde hair immediately. It was Jake, Lynn's son.
The girl pulled back for air, her face illuminated by the flickering wall sconce.
Cora. My cousin.OUR cousin.
A surge of pure, icy disgust flooded my veins. "Filth. Useless, degenerate filth," Vane growled.
"It seems the Evermont family tree doesn't just have rotten branches; the whole thing is a sprawling weed," I muttered. I took a step forward, my fingers itching to wrap around Jake's throat.
"Kaeren, no," Austin hissed, grabbing my arm. "We don't have time. Let them rot in their own shame. We have a throne to win."
I stared at them for a heartbeat longer. This was why I couldn't lose. If people like Jake inherited the Evermont legacy, we'd be extinct within a decade. "Let's go. The air in here is getting too thick with stupidity."
_____
The transition from the High Class region to the Outer District was like watching a beautiful painting being dipped in acid. As the armored sedan rattled over the broken pavement, I watched the world dissolve.
"It's worse than the reports said," I muttered.
"The Alpha hasn't looked at these budgets in years. Your uncle has been skimming the infrastructure funds to pay for his private island. This is the result."
"Remind me to thank my Uncle later. I've always wanted to see what the end of the world looked like from a back seat."
The car slowed as we turned into a narrow alleyway. My pulse quickened. I can feel her wolf just near, Vane whispered. She's close.
"Why are you so obsessed, Vane? We're here for a business transaction, not a playdate."
We pulled up in front of a structure that barely qualified as a house. The front door didn't just look broken—it looked like it had been detonated. Shouts and the sound of breaking glass echoed from inside. I stepped out of the car, the heavy scent of copper and adrenaline hitting my nose.
Suddenly, two hulking men burst out of the ruins of the doorway, dragging a girl between them. "Mom, Dad! Don't let them take me!"
Behind the thugs, a man and a woman scrambled out. "Please!" the woman shrieked. "Not our Tasha! Take the other one! Take Waverly!"
The man nodded, his eyes darting around. "Yes! Take the orphan! She's... she's good in bed! She'll satisfy all of you, I swear! Just leave our daughter alone!"
My blood turned to liquid nitrogen. I've met some trash in the High Class boardrooms, but this? This was a whole new level of biological waste.
"Kill them," Vane roared.
I knew the girl I'd seen in the palace was bold. But the idea of her being offered up as a sacrificial lamb by these scavengers felt like a physical insult.
As I looked at the filth around her, I realized she wasn't a slut. She was a victim of a system I had ignored. And I don't like it when people touch my investments.
The thug raised a hand to strike the screaming girl, but he never got the chance.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I growled, stepping into the light of the trash fire. "Unless you've already made your funeral arrangements, in which case—by all means, proceed."
Ididn't think about the plan. My eyes were already glowing, and the shadows around me seemed to lengthen in anticipation of the blood about to be spilled.