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This room is a piece of Bruton, nestled inside his home, with no feminine accents, no fresh flowers or art on the wall like the rest of his manor, where Evelyn’s touch is ever-present.

“You’ve built a beautiful home. A beautiful life.”

“Aye. We’re happy here… but it’s not right. Fuck, but I’ve been putting this off, trying not to think of it, and it’s been a stain on my soul. I’ve known since I married Evelyn that one day, we’d have to deal with Obsidian’s Mate.” He can’t even say Fay’s name. Maybe it helps him stay detached. “I’m glad you came to me. I’ve been waiting for this moment a long damn time.”

“Adriana thinks the worst. She thinks our parents won’t let it happen again. That they learned from their… mistake last time they cut down an enemy. That this time, they’ll salt the earth.”

Bruton’s taken aback. It’s not easy to shock him. “That’s madness. The boy will be safe. But he’ll grow up as a political prisoner, and Obsidian can’t wait any longer. He didn’t expect the Mark-10s to push him back. He might have mastered the Rift, but he blew his chance for a surprise attack. You survived the assassination attempt, and he doesn’t have any more cards to play.”

“He’s hitting us hard. Teleporting in fleets and blinking them back out before we can respond. We’re taking heavy loses.”

“Of Cyborgs, of Reavers, but our factories are producing. Obsidian has hardened us.” He gives me a long, considering look. “What’s the play?”

“On our wedding day. Security is going to be at its highest, but it will be centered around the Arena of the Gods. That’s why I need a second man.”

Bruton downs his glass, filling it anew from the carafe of the good stuff. “One of Fay’s doctors will help us. I haven’t just been getting fat here, on Colossus. I’ve been mulling over this, every day, but there’s never been a chance to pull the trigger.”

“Who is he?”

“Dr. Alzar. I’ve met with him a few times. An old man, but you know doctors. They don’t go into the cryo-chambers easy, not when they’ve got a thousand years of experience. He doesn’t agree with her captivity. If it comes to it, I believe he’d help us get her out and buy us time before anyone finds out.”

“Can we trust him?”

“Yes.”

“He’d be executed.”

“He’s had a long life. But I say he goes with her. Obsidian’s Mate… Fay could give birth any day. She needs a doctor with her.”

“There’s more. We’ve got three spies in the palace itself. I know, it sounds impossible, but it’s true. They can bring in supplies and coordinate on the inside.”

Bruton raises a brow. “Spies who beat the Interrogators’ vetting? Impressive. Then there’s just one last thing we need. I say we bring in Cal on this. He doesn’t like this either.”

I pause, then nod, and Bruton yells out our younger brother’s name, booming out. He appears at the doorway, shaking his head when Bruton offers him a drink.

“What do you need?”

“We’re busting Fay out,” says Bruton, simply.

There’s no surprise on Cal’s face. He simply nods. “When?”

“The wedding day,” I answer. “Planning to use one of her doctors to help.”

“Dr. Alzar?”

“How’d you know that?” asks Bruton.

Cal shrugs, sitting at the bar next to Bruton. “He’s the only one of her team that talks about Fay as if she is a human. What are the details of the plan?”

Bruton and I share a look. “We’re considering options,” I reply.

“You don’t have a plan, do you?”

Our brother can be smugly insufferable when he’s showing off his brain.

“We don’t, Cal. We’re completely lost without you,” says Bruton, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. While Cal is sitting next to him, somehow he shifts, ever so slightly, not seeming to move, but Bruton grazes his hoodie instead of landing the tap.

“We take her underground, of course.”