Page 119 of Shattered Jewel

“We create a breach,” he says simply and with an uncanny calmness that I suppose means he likes Sasha’s plan. “While Elara and Sasha mingle as guests, we penetrate the perimeter from the east.”

“The east?” Wilder says while grinning wickedly. “That’s Sovereigns’ territory. It’s heavily guarded.”

Cav flashes a smile sharp enough to draw blood. “Precisely.”

The anxiety I’ve been battling since Axe’s disappearance tightens its grip, whispering words of caution that feel so heavy in my chest. Or is it anticipation? A chance to chip away at the leviathan that is the Sovereigns?

We’re actually doing this.

“So long as you girls stay on the first floor and don’t fucking go anywhere,” Kaspian adds. “Sasha, tell us where the chambers are.”

And as the guys gear up, one fact snaps into focus: We may be losing to the Sovereigns’ right now, but tonight, we’ll rewrite the rules, or burn down their kingdom trying.

Chapter 29

Elara

The black SUV rolls to a stop, its engine cutting off as abruptly as the anticipation building inside me ever since we left my mother’s estate. The night swallows the car whole as the Kaspian, Wilder, and Cav drive off, and I’m left with Sasha at the edge of Thornhaven Manor’s grounds. We’re two shadows draped in velvet, our robes blending with the darkness enfolding us.

“Ready?”

Sasha’s voice is surprisingly steady, and though the cloak’s hood shrouds most of her face, her eyes burst through, alight with an odd thrill.

I suppose undercover operations isn’t something a college sophomore does everyday.

Nodding, I follow her lead and step into the tangled woods that skirts the property. It’s like stepping into another realm—one where reality is shrouded by ancient trees, gnarled thorns, and lonesome owls.

The last time I made this kind of trek, I was with Axe, his keen observation and silent predictions saving me from cracking my head open more than once.

Thinking of him carves a hollow at the base of my stomach, only to be filled by acidic dread.

I hope he’s okay. I really hope he’s okay.

As we make our way through the dense thicket, the hem of my robe catches on a particularly spiteful bramble. I pause, untangling the fabric with careful fingers. Sasha stops too, watching me with an amused quirk to her lips.

“Consider yourself lucky and they went for your robe. You should see my legs,” she teases gently, tucking a stray curl under the robe’s tied collar.

“You’ve done this walk before?” I ask, freeing myself with a final pull. We resume our trek, our footsteps muffled by the mossy ground.

“Yeah. There are times I come by when there aren’t any parties going on. I’m asked to come, though. It’s not like I’m stalking the place or anything.”

Sasha lets out a nervous laugh.

“Is this your roundabout way of saying you respond to after-hours booty calls from someone in there?” I ask, even more curious now.

“Let’s just say I’ve had some... intimate tours,” Sasha confesses, her tone light but her gaze fixed on the path ahead.

“Booty call,” I correct, elbowing her playfully.

“Fine. But they’re all unauthorized, so I was never allowed to say anything.”

“All? How many have you had?”

There’s a rise to my tone, part surprise, part hurt that she didn’t tell me, but I try to cover up the latter by elbowing her again as we trudge on.

“Okay. Fine. I’m seeing two initiates on a regular basis,” Sasha admits. “But they’ve also been coming to my music gigs and hanging out after class, grabbing coffee. It’s not all sex.”

She glances at me sideways like she’s trying to gauge my reaction as covertly as possible.

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