Page 175 of Daggermouth

Shadera saw the slight stiffening of Mikel’s back, the shudder in Lira’s chest.

They knew something.

“Did you truly think I wouldn’t know about your plans? Did you think you were so clever hiding the rings underground, thinking it would save them from my bombs?”

Shadera’s heart seized.

It wasn’t just Lira who’d acted, Jameson had to be a part of this if the Boundary is underground.

“While everyone focused on this spectacle,” Maximus said, spreading his arms to encompass the ceremony, the platform, “my loyal Veyra were busy elsewhere. They hacked into Callum’s system using the same techniques he’s so proud of. Fed him false footage while we moved undetected throughout the city.”

Her hand tightened on the gun.

“The rebels in the Entertainment District?” Maximus continued, his voice almost gleeful now. “Detained. It was bloody, I’ll admit. Messy.But we managed to keep some of them alive. For questioning. For examples.”

Greyson’s face had gone pale, and Shadera realized he had been left in the dark like her.

“The Daggermouths?” Maximus chuckled, turning his masked face toward Shadera now. "They were rounded up like rats in a trap.”

Each word was a knife to her flesh, splitting through skin and twisting.

“And Jaeger Nolin, the Wolf,” Maximus said, seeming to savor the name. “Your leader. Your father figure. I have something special planned for him. Something that will make what you endured in that cell seem like a lover’s caress.”

No. No, no, no.

Shadera’s vision blurred, her heart convulsing as its rate quickened.

Not Jaeger. He wasn’t supposed to leave the Boundary. He was never supposed to leave.

“Kestrel Farrow,” Maximus continued, his voice softening in a way that made Shadera’s skin crawl. “Oh, she is exquisite, isn’t she? Such fire. Such intelligence. It would be a pity to waste her. No, I think I’ll keep that one. Find uses for her talents. After I break her, of course.”

Maximus paused for only a breath. Letting his words settle, ferment.

“And Callum.” Maximus turned back to Lira, whose face had gone ghostly pale. “Your lover.” Greyson tensed beside her. “Your co-conspirator. I’ll take my time with him. Perhaps I’ll even let you watch as I peel him apart, layer by layer. As I extract every secret, every plan, every thought he ever had about you.”

Shadera watched the gears turning in Lira’s mind, watched as she decided how to respond. Choosing between begging for his life and not giving her father the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.

She chose the latter and when she spoke, her voice was steady, cold as steel.

“And Brooker?” she asked. “What are you going to do to him this time?”

Greyson’svisionblurred,thegun in his hand suddenly leaden.

“What?” he breathed, the question directed at Lira, whose face remained resolute despite the pallor that had crept beneath her skin.

It wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be possible.

Maximus laughed, the sound grating against Greyson’s eardrums like metal on glass. His father’s amusement, his casual dismissal of the pain he’d inflicted, ignited fury in Greyson’s chest.

“Surprised, son?” Maximus asked, his voice pitched to carry across the platform. “You shouldn’t be. Death has always been . . . negotiable in our family, as you know well.”

Something in Maximus’s words made the Veyra surrounding them hold their guns higher. Veyra loyal to Maximus formed a perimeter, weapons raised, while those who had sided with Mikel stood their ground, creating a protective formation around Greyson, Shadera, Lira, and Elara. Outnumbered at least three to one, but unwavering.

The tension in the air was a physical thing now, pressing against Greyson’s skin, filling his lungs with each labored breath. A single wrong move, a twitch of a finger, and the platform would erupt in blood and bullets.

Maximus raised his hands, the gesture almost benedictory as he addressed the scattered crowd below. “Citizens of the Heart,” he called,his amplified voice booming across the plaza. “Return to your homes immediately.”

The crowd hesitated, uncertainty rippling through the gathered masses. Some began to retreat, filtering toward the exits, while others remained rooted in place, eyes fixed on the drama unfolding above them.