Page 85

PRINCE DOMAN

“ Y ou’re going to break out Obsidian’s Mate.” Bruton’s dark blue eyes flash, and the words are spoken with reverence, like the simple act of verbalizing it sets it in motion. He listened to me, and when I was done, he paused for ten long seconds in silence before replying.

In the dim, warm glow of Bruton’s bar, the amber swirl of his whisky mirrors the turmoil in his eyes. He takes it well—no crystal glasses thrown, no yelling at me to get out, no smart-watch messages to my parents to stop my plan before it can even start.

But he’s tense, the lines on his face clearer. He knows what I’m asking.

I’m asking him to risk everything.

“I do. With or without you. Say the word, and I’ll never speak on this again. Pretend I never said anything, and I won’t involve you further.”

He sets his glass down and rubs his temples. “This is a little fucking different than when we stole cakes from the bakers growing up.” He downs his glass and refills it from the crystal carafe.

The bar has tall, rectangular windows that look out to the gardens below, to the small grove of trees within the walls of his manor.

My crystal glass, filled with whisky I’ve only tasted a sip of, rests on the cool, smooth surface of the marble countertop, which contrasts against the dark wood of the walls and floor.

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.”

“Underground?” I say, confused.

“Yes. In the tunnels under the palace. Nearly all are known to palace security, of course, and are guarded heavily. But there are some which are completely isolated. No scanner can map them. Escape routes, perhaps, but my theory is that when the palace was constructed, the Emperor liked to have a way to leave the palace without being watched. Too much security can constrain a man.”

Bruton stands up from the bar, pacing the room. He runs a hand through his thick mop of black hair, and drinks deep. “You’re telling me there’s a network of tunnels under the palace. That only you know about.”

“I did not say a network. The tunnel I’m thinking of is a straight line out.

The most suitable goes from the catacombs to one of the Elite estates.

I happened on it when I read an old book that I’m sure no one living has touched in the library.

There was speculation that the Emperor Sulivan had a lover in the Elites, and made calls to him in his manor, late at night. ”

Bruton snorts. “The Emperor couldn’t resist penetrating his secret tunnel, is that the claim? I bet that book was written by someone with a grudge against him, besmirching his good name.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. Only Bruton could be making off-color jokes right now.

“Interesting you say that. Actually, the scholar who wrote it?—”

I raise my hand, cutting Cal off before he can go into a long speech of the origins of some obscure text. “Will it work?”

Cal nods. “I can have a Reaver waiting in the estate and program the AI to take Fay and Dr. Alzar anywhere you like to. It will be loaded with the correct credentials. As long as it makes it out of atmosphere before the alert is sounded, they’ll get out. Where shall I program it to?”

“I’ll handle that. You just get the Reaver there.”

“Consider it done. I have a favor to ask you, Doman.”

“Shoot.”

“May I get Adriana’s feedback on what happened to her in the Rift?”

“You don’t need to ask my permission to talk to her. If she wants to talk about it, she will. Just be careful, Cal. That experience… it’s not an easy one. If she tells you to stop asking questions, respect it.”

The glass shatters in Bruton’s hand. He looks down, surprised, at the blood. The look in his eyes makes both Cal and I ignore it.

My younger brother spent a century in the Rift, tortured by darkness he never thought he’d get out of. It haunts him, still to this day.

“Thank you,” says Cal, and I grab another glass, pouring it and sliding it across the bar. Bruton catches it before it falls and gives me a nod of thanks.

The tension is filling me—but it’s no longer the uncertainty that was plaguing me.

We have a plan. Now all it needs is to be executed.

I glance downwards and twist the black ring on my finger, hating it, and steel myself.

When I cut down Obsidian, then she will give herself to me. This I know, in the deepest part of my soul.