Page 62 of Sacrifice

“Not really,” I reply with a shrug, adjusting my cuffs. “But I don’t think I’ve been ready for a single bloody thing since we crossed the Mojave Skyway.”

His chuckle is like gravel tumbling down a hillside—rough but not unkind…more tired than anything. “You and me both.”

Silence stretches between us, charged like the air before a storm. With every second that ticks by, the unspoken grows louder, filling up the space.

“Are we good?” His voice cuts through, low and even.

“Yeah,” I answer without hesitation. But then, curiosity gets the better of me. “Is this about the other night?”

Oberon nods once, a singular, deliberate movement. “Things happen,” he says, his eyes holding mine. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Fine by me…but do you want it to?” I ask.

The doorframe bears Oberon’s weight as he leans against it, an imposing figure even in his stillness. “I’m in love with Aisling,” he confesses in a rumble that seems to vibrate through the room. “But pack…pack is complicated. We’re all a family now, meant to stick together.”

His admission hangs heavy between us, and for a moment, I consider the tangled mess of feelings and duty that bind us. “You’ve been rock-solid for her, for all of us,” I acknowledge, meeting his gaze directly.

“Thanks, Rook,” he replies. “It means something, coming from you. You’ve been taking care of our girl in ways I didn’t expect.”

“Seems we both have our roles to play,” I concede, feeling the truth of his words.

Aisling is more than just pack—she’s the axis on which our world spins, her gravity pulling us inexorably in. I didn’t mind that she had the others, it just seemed like a fact of life…but it didn’t occur to me that we would all have a level of intimacy I never expected.

I look back up at him, brow furrowed. “I’m not…I’ve never been attracted to men, let alone alphas,” I murmur. “I still don’t think I am. But in the heat of the moment, and with you being…well, Vega, you’ve become one of my greatest friends these past weeks. Can’t deny that.”

My words are a jumble—I know that—but Oberon grins. He pushes off the frame and steps into the room fully, closing the distance between us. Our hands meet and clasp—a warrior’s grip that speaks of solidarity and unspoken understanding.

“We’ll play it by ear,” he says. “No need to rush. If all goes according to plan…our pack has a lifetime to figure it out, right?”

“Damn right,” I nod. “So—shall we?”

He nods. “Let’s go.”

And we head into the hellfire of Inari’s gala, shoulder to shoulder.

Chapter twenty-seven

Nero

I’m about to do something very, very stupid—but what else is new?

Dressed in a tailored suit that fits like a glove, I let my gaze slide over the crowd in the Bellanova ballroom. It’s all pomp and pretense here—a live band’s sweet notes tangle with the hum of conversation. Champagne flutes catch the light, winking like the eyes of those who think they’re on top of this wicked game. Some sway to the rhythm on the dance floor, others lounge, sipping from their cups of liquid gold.

I shouldn’t be here. Every instinct screams it. Yet, here I am, making myself bait in a room full of predators.

But if you’re going to lure out the big fish, you’ve got to put something tempting on the hook.

And me? I’m a feast.

The atmosphere’s laced with something electric, a current that runs beneath the surface glitter. It’s the scent of something momentous brewing—of shifting alliances and power plays yet unseen. I can almost taste the anticipation in the air, and it’s intoxicating.

Caius wanted me dead before…now he’ll want to make sure it hurts.

“Idiot,” I chide myself softly, but there’s a smirk playing on my lips. Because while they’re all busy watching each other, no one’s expecting Nero Rossi to play his hand. They forget—I may be the wildcard, but I’m not playing with a full deck. I’ve got aces up my sleeve and a plan that’ll throw them all off balance.

Stupidity and bravery often wear the same face, don’t they? Well, tonight, I’m the spitting image of both.

I weave through the throng, my eyes scouting over the sea of bodies until they land on Aisling and Gunnar, the epicenter of tonight’s anticipation. She’s a vision in silver, living up to her Stargazer moniker, outshining every celestial body in this gilded space. Gunnar, ever the magnetic force beside her, is locked in conversation with some suit. His rolled-up sleeves give him that edge of nonchalance, but I know better.

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