Page 134 of Theirs to Rule

My hands worked with a frantic energy, the marker's tip dancing over his skin. It wasn't perfect, far from it, but in the dim light and under pressure, it might just pass for the real thing.

“I’m your captive,” I said, and he nodded.

We continued our descent toward the basement. Each step took us deeper into the heart of the building, and closer to whatever awaited us in the shadows below. The air grew cooler,the silence more profound, as if the building itself was holding its breath.

"We're almost there," I breathed, more to myself than to Dante, my voice barely above a whisper.

As we picked our way cautiously down the stairs, the basement doors loomed ahead. We stayed in the shadows, tensing when we heard the sound of keys, metal against metal. The doors creaked open, spilling a sliver of light into our dim hideout. Two men emerged, their voices low but carrying in the still air. One of them had a limp form slung over his shoulder.

Simone.

My heart stuttered, then hammered painfully against my ribs.

Dante's hand found mine in the dark, a squeeze that was as much reassurance as it was a warning to keep my voice down. We listened, frozen, as the men spoke.

"Now that we have the O’Hare kid, we just need to take this one somewhere far out, make sure the body doesn’t get found," one of them said, a casualness in his voice that made my skin crawl.

The other chimed in, a vile suggestion hanging in the air between them, "Yeah, but first, maybe we could have a bit of fun with her body. I never did get to bang the bitch before she ‘dumped’ me."

Nausea twisted in my gut, rage simmering just beneath. This must have been the biker Simone had cut things off with. Jasper.

The thought of them touching Simone, even in death, was too much. I started to stand only to feel Dante touch my arm, a silent plea for caution. Trusting him, I waited, waited, waited, until the men had opened some outer doors. That’s when Dante stood, grabbed my arm, and yanked me off my feet.

Chapter 59

Kage

We had one shot at this and if we fucked it up, we were all dead.

We crept through the narrow hallway that Ty said led to the room where Bianca and the other students were being restrained. It was guarded, but the men outside were sloppy, too confident in their control of the situation. Ty and I shared a look, a silent agreement, before launching into action. It was quick, efficient, and silent—the guards didn't even have time to realize their mistake before they were down.

Bursting into the room, the sight that greeted us was gut-wrenching. Bianca, Camille’s math tutor Drew, and a few others were tied up, their expressions ranging from fear to relief at our arrival.

Not only that, but in the corner of the room was none other than theconciliantis, clearly more bruised and battered than the other students. She looked like she’d been knocked unconscious.

"Holy shit, Kage, Ty," Bianca gasped, her face bruised and her voice weak. "I knew you'd come."

Working quickly, we untied her then the others. "Some of us are in bad shape, including Madam Sandrine.”

Bianca stood and I noticed she moved with a limp and wanted to strangle whoever had hurt her. "We'll have to support them. Carry them if we need to."

The escape was a blur of adrenaline and whispered, frantic instructions. We moved as one, a unit bonded by the shared goal of survival. Every creak in the floor, every distant sound made us tense, ready to fight or flee.

When I got to theconciliantisI felt my stomach turn. She was beaten, bad. She must have put up one hell of a fight for them to take it this far, but despite the cuts and bruises all over her, she was breathing.

I began untying the rope just as her eyes fluttered open.

“Mr. O'Hare,” she whispered harshly. “There isn’t time to help us. You need to leave. You’re their ultimate prize.”

“Then they’re gonna be fucking disappointed and regret ever going after me.” I turned to Bianca. “Help her.”

As we reached the last captive, a young guy I recognized from campus but never spoke to, his eyes met mine, filled with a mix of fear and gratitude.

"Thank you," he whispered, as I cut through his restraints.

"No thanks needed. Let's just make sure we all get out of here alive," I replied, helping him to his feet. His legs were shaky, but the determination in his eyes told me he'd make it through.

The room was finally clear, everyone untied and standing, albeit some just barely. I looked over the group, a makeshift band of survivors, each with their own story of fear and resilience.

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