Page 99 of Serpent King's Prisoner

Just turned it more productive.

I slipped out of the kitchen, leaving my dirty plates untouched on the counter. My heart was a drumbeat in my chest as I crept up the stairs, each step calculated to avoid the creaks that might give me away. He wasn’t here, and yet it felt important that I didn’t make a sound.

Fuck that.

I got to exist.

I got to make sound.

I found myself back in the bathroom again.

The room was clinical, all sharp lines and marble, but I hoped it was safe from the ever-watchful eyes of cameras. My backpack was here, and I covered it with my body as I slid my essentials out. With practiced ease, I palmed my phone and utility knife, nestling them into the folds of a towel as I gathered my shampoo and body wash. I took my clothes off then, just in case. If he walked inside, he should see me showering.

If he saw my bag, I would tell him I needed tampons because I had started my period.

That felt good enough.

I locked the door and turned the shower on, the hot water cascading down in a veil of steam.

I waited, counting the seconds, ensuring the noise would mask our conversation. Then, with a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, I powered on the phone, the screen’s glow the only betrayal of light in the mist-filled room.

“Matthews,” I whispered as soon as the call connected, “it’s Harper.”

“Abby, what the hell is going on?” His voice was laced with concern and confusion, but I couldn’t afford to soothe him now.

“I can’t explain—“

“Yes, you fucking can. Harper, where are you?” Tyler’s voice crackled through the phone, barely above a whisper but sharp with urgency.

“Embedded with a Triad operative,” I answered, my own voice a hushed thread against the hiss of the shower. “I need time, Tyler. I’ll report when I can.”

“Christ, Abby, this is highly irregular.” The frustration in his voice was palpable, even over the phone. “I have to run this by our superiors. They might want to extract you.”

“Absolutely not,” I countered, quick and firm. The thought of extraction sent a jolt of panic through me. If they tried, it would be a death sentence, and all the cards I’d carefully held would scatter to the wind. “I get killed if you pull me out now. Understood?”

There was a beat of silence, heavy and laden with unsaid things. Then Tyler exhaled, a sound that carried both resignation and concern. “Understood. Just...be careful.”

“Always am.” But even as I said it, doubt clawed at me. Was I? Careful enough to walk this razor’s edge without slipping?

“I have to go. Don’t do anything. I’ll give you a status update when I can. I mean it, Tyler.”

And with those final words, I pressed ‘end’ on the screen and turned off the phone, cutting off my only lifeline.

My heartbeat thrummed in my ears, a staccato rhythm that matched the drumming water. Was Tyler going to abide by my wishes, or was his concern going to override protocol? I couldn’t afford slip-ups. Not now. Not when I was so close to the heart of the Triad–to the Serpent’s Fang himself.

As the steam enveloped me, a makeshift cocoon against the cold reality waiting beyond the bathroom door, I braced myself for what was to come. Whatever it was, I’d face it head-on.

Because that was what I did. Even when I was fucking terrified.

Especially when I was fucking terrified.

The water pounded near me, a veil of noise that was both cover and cacophony. I shut off the phone with a decisive click, its screen going dark as if it too knew the gravity of silence. There wasn’t much time. Steam swirled around me, fogging up the glass as I turned to the rough stone wall, my gaze scanning for a sliver of sanctuary.

I was in the shower, but away from the water.

The utility knife felt solid in my hand, an extension of my will. I wedged its sharp edge into the grout, carving around a rock that seemed loose enough but not so obvious as to draw attention. Grit crumbled beneath the blade, and I prayed to every god that might be listening that this wouldn’t be the mistake that unraveled everything. With a gentle tug, the stone gave way, leaving behind a hollow just big enough.

It was dry here on the wall. Nothing would happen to the phone. And Nathan would never think to look here.

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