Page 49 of A Taste For Lies (The Apex Kingdom #1)

Chapter 49

ALORA

I slip through the shadows of the palace corridors, my heart beating faster with every step. The vial of Taran’s blood secured in my pocket should allow me to breach Queen Kora’s throne room, then access the passageway for my escape.

Just before I turn the corner to the throne room, I pause, slinking to a shadowed corner. Despite linking with Taran and sharing his stoneclaw’s power, my lynx remains elusive. It’s worth trying again before approaching the guard. I shut my eyes, concentrating on my breathing, trying to reach inward—but the sound of approaching footsteps has my eyes flying open. The second whoever that is comes into view, the clock starts.

Rule Number Six: Plan thoroughly, act swiftly.

I step out of the shadows and force a sweet, nervous smile just in time. A fraction of me relaxes when I don’t recognize the guard—this isn’t the guardian I’ve seen shadowing Lord Winters. But his uniform indicates he’s still an Apex. A burly male with a sharp-angled face hewn from stone. I approach him with the same timid demeanor Mei first showed.

“Excuse me, sir,” I say in the common tongue, my voice trembling slightly. “I seem to have lost my way to the ballroom. Could you help me? ”

He looks me up and down, recognizing my dress and mask as belonging to an Elite courtier. His posture eases, his eyes flicking to my bodice neckline. “Certainly, Lady…”

“Thorne,” I tell him.

The effect of my cover name on the guard is instantaneous. His face drops into an angry scowl, his arms extending to grab me. Internally cursing myself to the deepest pits of hell, I swiftly pull my dagger from its sheath on my thigh and slice it through his throat, cutting off his yell before it can form. I dance away quickly before his blood can spray me. It soaks into his dark tunic instead and he drops with a heavy thud.

Fuck.

I look around but there’s nowhere to stash the male’s body nearby, and he’s enormous. I settle on pulling him into a seated position up against the wall and dropping his head to his chest to hide the bloody throat, his cap pulled down over his unseeing eyes. By the time I’m finished, I’m breathing heavily as I examine my handiwork.

It’s fucking terrible. An absolute mockery of Rule Number Nine: Leave no trace.

I’m trained for manipulations and nuanced subterfuge, not godsdamn assassinations. But I’ve already wasted too much time. As soon as anyone sees this body, I’m as good as caught.

I stride down the hallway and get my first break of the evening. The guard I dispatched was the same one patrolling the throne room. I pull off one of my gloves and shake a drop of Taran’s blood on my bare index finger. I have only to swipe the door with my finger and it opens on its own. Thank Jinai. The next unknown is whether an alarm will be even now alerting someone to come to the guard’s rescue.

Rule Number Two. The first thing is first.

The air inside is cool and still. I scan the crowded space, taking in the countless jewels and necklaces that glint under the dim light. It’s a dragon’s hoard—piles of treasure and overflowing boxes intermixed with portraits of the fallen queen. So this is where they stashed them all. I count over ten potential amulets in just my first glance.

My pulse quickens—there’s only one chance at finding the amulet among all these treasures in time. And it means mentally connecting myself to someone I have never felt farther from.

I shut my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. The deathly quiet of the throne room. My heartbeat.

I picture Taran. The way his silver eyes harden with determination. The way they soften when they settle on mine. His pine scent that haunts my dreams. I search with my mind, trying to find the connection.

Nothing.

The minutes tick by, but still, I can’t reach him.

My breaths are coming faster now. Any second, those doors could burst open and—

Rule Number Ten: Maintain control.

This time, I keep my eyes open while I picture his stoneclaw.

Watching me from within. Calling to me from the first second we met.

Alone, surrounded by glittering gems and mountains of gold, I let myself admit the truth. There has been a connection between us since the very beginning. Pacing impatiently. Waiting for me to let down the barriers I erected in the wake of my first lover’s betrayal.

I was so traumatized from what happened in Shanterra, and the unknown break with my creature, then in a state of vulnerability, specifically taught not to trust again. Trust in the Guild. And no one else .

Every one of Taran’s actions has shown me his devotion, his drive to protect me at all costs. Even his final lie was one meant to shield me from the burden he carries every day. My gaze settles on the portrait of his dead mother. She watches me with a gentle smile. Asking me to open my heart to her son.

And maybe…maybe I should have .

Suddenly, I’m flooded with Prince Taran Nyxley’s famed Apex sense of smell. The scents of the room sharpen, and there—beneath the heavy odor of metal and velvet—I catch the distinct scent.

The amulet.

I can’t explain how I know, but the same way as if it was Taran or Carter or Astrid, the amulet smells uniquely Apex. Wild.

I follow the alluring scent, moving quickly. Time is slipping through my fingers. My heart leaps as I spot a blood red circular stone resting on a silver plate set on one corner of a nondescript desk. I creep closer until I’m able to pick out the gold-wrought vines and plants circling the crimson gem. The scent nearly overwhelms me, and the power thrumming from it is almost visible. My fingers reach towards the artifact on their own, desperate to touch it.

Stop.

It’s my own instincts that save me in the end, some sixth sense. My natural defense system screaming a warning.

Something’s off. My gaze sharpens, and I see it. A faint, almost invisible shine to the plate. A trap.

“What was your mistake?”

The voice in my memory is Xinlei’s.

I suppress a sigh. “I should have chosen the rock.”

“They’re both the same weight.”

My eyes widen and I study the plate with renewed interest. “I don’t see the sensor.”

“It’s designed by the Veridian Guild’s key master.” Xinlei crouches down and examines the mechanism, prodding it gently with a curved finger. “I think he’s using blood magic.”

Ignoring my internal ticking clock, I study the plate with greater care. As soon as the weight of the amulet is removed, an alarm will trigger.

Fate taps me on the shoulder, her whisper unmistakable.

This moment will define the outcome .

I find the secret pocket in my bodice. The one with the final amber carving. It should be an almost exact match in weight to the amulet. My fingers tremble as they remove my left glove. I place a single drop of Taran’s blood onto the figurine.

Every movement feels magnified. I hold my breath as I delicately exchange the lynx for the amulet.

The trap doesn’t spring.

No alarm sounds.

Pure relief washes through me, along with the overpoweringly lush scent of the amulet. It smells like every plant and every animal combined together in an overwhelming bouquet that is somehow intoxicating beyond belief. My eyes water. The plate must have been doing more than guarding the amulet—it must have been masking its scent as well.

And yet Taran had scented it anyway—through wards and walls. How powerful is he, truly, if I can scent it with just a link to his power?

I have no time to dwell on the thought. The same second I retrieve the amulet, the door swings open. I whip the hand holding it behind my back.

Rhegar.

This is no regular guardian like I met in the hallway. He’s a fully grown Apex, one of the most powerful auditories out there, according to Taran. Before I can blink, he’s racing across the room. I switch the amulet to my left hand and go for my dagger, but he’s too fast. He’s already got one beefy hand squeezing my wrist, making me drop the weapon, as he uses the other to press a soaked handkerchief to my nose. The world tilts and darkens as a sickeningly sweet smell fills my lungs and everything goes black.