Page 42

SELENE

I slip through the twisting back alleys of Orthani’s underbelly, guided by a single lantern’s glow in the distance.

The early evening sky roils with clouds, a half-moon haloed in murky silver.

The city’s looming spires form black silhouettes overhead, and the cold air carries the distant clamor of drunken brawls and patrolling guards.

Yet, here in the older quarter, the streets feel almost abandoned, as though Orthani’s heart beats louder in the more prosperous zones.

I pull my cloak tighter, scanning each shadowy turn.

Earlier, I sent a coded message to Eryx using one of his rumored drop points—a slip of paper tucked behind a broken statue.

I told him to meet me here, at a particular safehouse nestled in the labyrinth of decaying stone.

I can’t be certain he’ll come, but if he’s half as cunning as I believe, he’ll sense the significance of my invitation.

We have a plan to finalize, a sabotage that might rend Orthani’s power at the seams. And, if I’m honest, an unspoken tension to confront.

Ahead, I find the dilapidated building, a squat structure with boarded windows.

The heavy stench of mildew clings to its walls.

I push open a warped wooden door, stepping into a dusty corridor lit only by the faint glow of a single candle I placed earlier.

My footsteps are soft on the creaking floorboards.

A sense of anticipation tingles under my skin.

I told Vaelith I’d be out for a short errand.

He suspects nothing more than a minor supply run—perhaps a petty ruse to gather new arrows.

But in truth, I’m forging a new path, a chance to slip deeper into the web I’ve begun weaving.

I cross a small entry hall that reeks of rot.

My candle shows a battered table, a few broken chairs.

The place is a far cry from Vaelith’s carefully guarded estate, but it offers privacy.

I linger, exhaling softly, letting my eyes adjust. Eryx should arrive soon.

My mind whirls with the final details of our sabotage: the wagon routes, the guard rotations, how we’ll strike.

Vaelith remains in the dark. Meanwhile, Zareth lurks somewhere, reeling from the mental beating I dealt him.

And beyond that, Ai’s eerie whispers echo in my head: “One will betray.” My chest constricts.

I can’t guess who or how, but I must remain vigilant.

A faint scrape of movement behind me. My heart clenches, hand dropping to the dagger at my belt. Then I catch the swirl of a midnight-blue cloak and a glint of gold near a pair of dark eyes. Eryx emerges from a side doorway, face drawn in a half-smirk. His manner is as silent as death.

“You’re prompt,” I say, steadying my pulse. “I half-expected you to lurk on the rooftops, waiting to see if I brought an ambush.”

He scoffs under his breath. “You wouldn’t tip Vaelith off about this. You’re too invested in our sabotage.” He glances around, taking in the decaying walls. “Charming place. A little close to that crumbling temple, though. The wards might sense a magic surge if we’re not careful.”

I shrug, crossing my arms. “We can talk quietly. I scouted this location. The wards in this district are minimal, the city invests little in a run-down quarter.” My gaze flicks over him— white hair cropped short, eyes glinting with chaotic undertones.

I recall the danger that coils behind his flippant charm. “We have a plan to finalize, right?”

He nods, stepping closer. The hush of our proximity pulses with tension.

“The supply run leaves Orthani in two days. The wagons carry vital siege equipment and rations for the next orc offensive. We intercept them at the southwestern pass. My associates can handle the strike, but I need your final intelligence: route changes, guard rosters, anything Vaelith’s war councils decided. ”

I tap my belt pouch. “Got it. Copies of the updated route, along with some names. The caravans might shift course at the last minute to avoid rumored orc raids. And yes, they’re doubling the guard presence.

Vaelith’s men trust me enough to let me rummage in the planning documents. None suspect I’d pass it on to you.”

A slow grin curves his mouth. “You’ve done well. With that data, we can sabotage them effectively. Orthani’s next campaign gets delayed, or undone.”

My pulse thrums with triumphant adrenaline.

“If all goes right, yes. Let Orthani stumble.” Yet my chest feels oddly tight.

This is it—the final step that cements my betrayal of Vaelith’s cause.

But I push aside the pang of guilt. Orthani never truly trusted me; they only tolerated me.

And I won’t forget the Red Purna’s original betrayal, nor Eryx’s manipulations.

Everyone’s using everyone. I vow to keep my eyes open, no illusions.

He holds out a hand. I slip a small scroll from my belt pouch, offering it.

As his fingers brush mine, a jolt of tension leaps between us.

It’s not just about sabotage. There's a crackling undercurrent that stirs every time we stand close. He lifts an eyebrow, scanning my face as though searching for hesitation. “You’re truly ready to bring Orthani to its knees?”

I swallow. “Yes. They tried to collar my mind, keep me caged. If we strike them at this supply run, it’s a blow to their power. I want that, and I want Ai safe.”

He nods, tucking the scroll into a hidden pocket. “She’ll be safe once we carve a path out of the city’s core. But you have to keep playing the role of Vaelith’s ally, feeding me updates until the moment we strike. Once the wagons burn, Orthani will scramble, giving you a chance to slip Ai away.”

We’re so close that I smell the faint tang of steel and leather on him.

A flicker of memory stirs: how in the orchard, we nearly closed that distance in raw, feral tension.

Something is different now—an added swirl of anger and longing that neither of us bothers to hide.

My breath stutters. “We’ve done the business talk. Now let’s talk about something else.”

He tilts his head. “You’re referencing the tension between us?” His gaze slides over me in a way that’s both appraising and predatory. “I see it, too. Are we going to address it, or keep dancing around it?”

A surge of heat prickles my skin. “We can’t trust each other. Yet, whenever we meet, this… friction crackles. Maybe I should purge it, see if it shatters everything or forges a sharper alliance.”

His lips twitch, a faint curve that hints at dark amusement. “If you want me that badly, I won’t say no.” He closes the final inch separating us, voice dropping. “But are you sure it won’t muddy your arrangement with Vaelith?”

That name hits me like a punch. “Vaelith has no claim on me. I owe him nothing. Especially not my fidelity, if that’s what you’re implying.” A low growl escapes me. “Besides, if he chooses to stake me as his property, he can watch me prove otherwise.”

Eryx’s eyes glint. “So you want to provoke him? Make him see you’re beyond his grasp?”

Maybe that’s part of it. Another part is simply this craving that’s built between Eryx and me, two conspirators ready to devour each other.

My mind warns me this is reckless. But my blood hums with the thrill of it.

I recall the orchard, how each stolen moment with him felt electric.

Now, in this abandoned safehouse, the tension is amplified.

I feel a savage hunger to claim him before we seal our sabotage pact.

I let a daring smirk curl my lips. “Yes, I do. I want him to know he’s not the only man in my orbit. And I want you to remember who holds the reins. If we’re going down this path, I decide when and how.”

He laughs under his breath, stepping forward until I feel the heat of his body. “You’re the purna who’s carved a place in Orthani’s fortress. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t try to dominate me, too.”

My stomach flips. Without another word, I fist the front of his tunic, yanking him close.

The tension that’s been building ignites.

Our mouths crash together with fierce hunger, teeth and tongues clashing in an unrefined dance.

He groans into me, arms circling my waist, but I push him against the dusty wall, pinning him with a savage grin.

“Careful,” he murmurs against my lips, eyes bright with mischief. “I might enjoy it too much.”

“Then enjoy,” I hiss, pressing my body along his.

The friction of cloth and leather ignites sparks in my veins.

My mind reels with conflicting needs—anger at the Red Purna, longing for a fleeting release.

This man is both danger and ally, a liar I can’t fully trust, yet I crave the taste of his cunning.

He cups my face, dragging me into another bruising kiss.

We devour each other’s breath, hands roaming with unrestrained greed.

My heart pounds so loud that I barely notice the creaking of the floor or the muffled wind outside.

Everything narrows to this moment, my blood sizzling, my control straining.

Eryx’s chaos-laced aura skims my senses, swirling in a dance that merges with my own arcane pulses.

I break away, panting, locking eyes with him. “Don’t think this means I won’t cut your throat if you betray me.”

He smirks, voice thick with lust. “Likewise, little savage.”

A hunger-laced laugh escapes me. I tear at the belts cinching his tunic, slipping them free. He leans in, teeth grazing the side of my neck, enough to send a shiver of anticipation through me. “Keep your teeth in check,” I murmur, though my own body arches closer, contradicting the warning.