Page 151 of Daggermouth

“I’m pragmatic,” Maximus corrected. “The world is changing, son. Those who adapt will survive. Those who cling to outdated notions of equality will perish.” He paused. “The old ways, the old power structures . . . they’re crumbling. And it’s up to us, the strong, theworthy, to shape what rises from the ashes.”

“At what cost?” Shadera’s voice cut through the tension between father and son. “How many lives are you willing to sacrifice for your utopia?”

Maximus turned to her, his posture straightening into something threatening. “Ateverycost,” he said simply. “Whatever is necessary to ensure the Heart’s survival.”

He stood, straightening his dark blue suit.

“The Vow ceremony will proceed as planned. You will both cooperate fully. You will present yourselves as the perfect symbol of unity between Heart and Boundary and use your voices to convince those loyal to the Heart to come forward, to be spared. And in exchange, I will consider modifying my plans. Perhaps sparing key sectors of the rings.” He placed his mask back over his face and turned away from them. “Resist, and I will ensure you watch thousands die before I kill you both. The bombs are ready, the targets selected. One word from me, and the Boundary burns.”

With those words hanging in the air, Maximus signaled to the guards. They fell into formation around him as he exited, the heavy door closing behind them with a final, echoing thud.

Silence descended over the cells, broken only by the ragged sound of Shadera’s breathing. Greyson sat motionless, staring at the concrete floor where his blood had pooled beneath his chair then dried. Hismind was a hurricane, each emotion crashing against the others, leaving him numb in their wake.

His father had paid for Brooker’s contract and Shadera had been the one to carry it out. The knowledge sat in his chest like a stone, crushing his lungs, his heart.

“Greyson.” Shadera’s voice reached him through the glass. “Greyson, please—”

“Stop,” Greyson said, the word barely audible.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t hear her voice. He couldn’t stand the sound of it. The pain it held, the lies it told.

“I need you to understand—”

“Please.” His voice was shattering now, that grenade Maximus had planted in his chest finally detonating. “Please just stop.”

Chapter thirty

Those Two Things

Lirasatacrossthetable from her brother. Her dead brother. Her mind refused to process what her eyes were seeing.

Brooker. Alive. Breathing.

The world around her seemed to blur at the edges, the voices planning at the table becoming distant and muffled as if she were underwater. Her brother, whom she’d mourned, whose absence had torn a hole in her family, sat there with a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. The same smile he’d worn when they were children and he’d successfully pulled a prank. Only this wasn’t a childish trick—this was an earthquake shattering the foundation of everything she thought she knew.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could barely breathe as he shifted in his chair, leaning back casually like he hadn’t just been resurrected. Callum’s hand tightened around hers beneath the table, his thumb stroking reassuringly across her knuckles, but even that familiar touch couldn’t anchor her to reality.

Brooker’s hair was longer now, dark strands falling to his shoulders, the length something their father would never have permitted. A thin scar bisected his right eye and brow, puckering the skin in a way that made his face seem sharper, more severe. But it was his eyes that hadchanged the most—those blue Serel eyes that now held shadows she couldn’t begin to fathom.

Lira watched Brooker reach beside him, his fingers intertwining with Farrow’s in an easy, intimate gesture that spoke of history, of trust. Farrow’s expression remained neutral, but her grip on Brooker’s hand tightened fractionally, a silent communication passing between them.

The clearing of Jaeger’s throat drew her attention back to the matter at hand. “. . . We need to be ready to strike in two days,” he continued, as if the return of a dead man was minor. “The night of the Vow ceremony provides our best opportunity. Security will be focused on keeping Shade and Greyson secure after the broadcast. They will be expecting a disturbance during the ceremony, so we wait until after.”

Jaeger spread the maps across the table, his finger tracing routes through the Heart. “Mikel and Brooker have Veyra officers on the inside, their teams will secure the plaza, monitoring and relaying any information back to the rebels that will be waiting with Ghost to flood the Heart when Farrow and my team fry the electricity powering the checkpoints. Lira will make sure the media drones are creating blind spots for us to navigate.”

Lira heard the words, saw Jaeger’s finger moving across the paper, but they made no sense. Nothing made sense.

Her brother was alive.

Her brother was alive and had been working with the rebellion all along. Her brother was alive and holding hands with a rebel leader while Greyson was being held prisoner by their father.

“What the fuck.”

Brooker laughed, the sound achingly familiar. “There she is.”

“How dare you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with rage. “How dare you sit there and laugh.”

The smile faded from his face.