Page 72 of Shattered Jewel

No fucking way.

“We may have a problem with that,” he says while tonguing his cheek. “I doubt she’ll welcome us with open arms.”

I suck in a deep inhale, hold, then let it out slowly so as not to lose my shit. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

In answer, Kaspian raises a beat-up, softbound leather book that he must’ve had behind his back, its delicate ties dancing in an invisible wind. “She and I found the missing flash drive as well as this logbook in the hidden office at her grandmother’s mansion. It contains a lot of Anderton references.”

Right.

I inwardly curse. Axe shows up in my room, his face gouged and bleeding, and I lose all remembrance that we’d sent Kaspian and Elara on a mission to find Maverick’s last clue.

Wilder pushes out his lower lip in thought. “That’s good news, bro. Where’s the issue?”

“What’s on it?” I ask at the same time. Then I clarify, “The flash drive.”

“I was on my way to my room but stopped here to update you.”

“You’re deflecting, Kas,” Axe observes under his breath, but it carries a bite. “What the fuck did you do to Elara?”

My attention whips to Kaspian.

His mouth curves into a bitter smile, devoid of humor or warmth.

“Nothing fatal,” he assures us with an offhanded wave of his hand. “But she will be pissed as hell when we show up at her door.”

Teeth grinding, I glower at Kaspian. “Did you harm her?”

Kaspian snorts. His smirk only adds fire to that rage swelling inside me.

“A harmless lesson, that’s all,” he explains with a dismissive shrug.

My mind whirls with unanswered questions and possibilities, images of Elara’s terrified face flashing before my eyes. A visceral snarl bubbles up into my throat as I trespass into his comfort zone, our matching muscular frames going toe-to-toe.

Axe and Wilder make no move to intervene, their expressions intrigued as they watch the tense interaction between Kaspian and myself unfold.

“Elara is ours,” I remind Kaspian with a curled upper lip. “You’re supposed to protect her, not alienate her.”

The Sovereigns always pitted me and Kaspian against each other to win their ear. They recognized us for what we were—feral, wild, broken leaders who could cage fight and almost kill each other, yet still recognize the other as a brother. A defender.

Kaspian usually went for deceit—underhanded maneuvers that would indicate one thing while he did another. He used false tells to convince me he favored his left side, only to unleash a blistering right spinning heel kick. I manipulated the fight choreography to lure Kaspian into over-committing, then capitalized with a savage shots.

After endless draws, I won the position of Consul by a hair, becoming the Sovereigns’ second-in-command in Titan Falls.

I thrust a finger into Kaspian’s chest, pressing him back against the wall. “You forget your place. She’s not one of your mindless fucks.”

Kaspian grins insolently but holds his tongue. He knows better than to challenge me further when I’m like this—hollow, triggered, and barely maintaining control.

His motives make sense to me in this state, and that’s not a comfort.

I’m consumed by an image of Elara under me, soft whispers and pleading eyes begging for mercy I’m not sure I can grant her. Teaching her what it feels like to be at my mercy, held captive until she splinters, is a dirty, relentless fantasy of mine.

But first thing’s first. We need to find out what’s on that damn flash drive and make sense of this new logbook.

Dragging my gaze back to Kaspian, I growl out my final warning, “Don’t ever forget who you answer to.”

His grin falters, replaced by thin-lipped resentment.

“It’s too risky to continue our research at Thornhaven. Gather all the weapons and equipment you can carry. Our first priority is protecting Elara until we figure out what all this black magic has to do with the Heart.”

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