Page 55 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

I clench my jaw. This is how Cast operates—controlling, withholding, always five steps ahead. But I’m not in the mood to play by his rules.

I push myself up higher in bed, ignoring the pain that flares through me. “You think I’m just going to sit here and wait? That I won’t find out myself?”

His expression darkens. “You’re in no condition to do anything, Vincent.”

I grit my teeth and snarl at him. “You will not keep me in the dark about the person who almost fucking killed me, Cast.”

Damien sighs. “He has a point, Cast.”

Willow shifts next to me, and Cast growls under his breath. Cast’s gaze doesn’t waver. His silence stretches, thick and suffocating, compacting on my chest like a weight.

Then—finally—he speaks.

“There’s a mole.”

I blink, my brain sluggish from the meds, trying to catch up. “What?”

Cast’s expression is hard to decode, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, something lethal lurking beneath the surface. “Someone’s been feeding information to the wrong people. And a girl—” He pauses, jaw tightening. “She’s been collecting intel. On us. OnWillow.”

The air in the room shifts.

Willow’s grip on my hand tightens, and I feel her nails press into my skin.

I shake my head, my pulse spiking. “Who?”

Cast doesn’t answer right away. He glances at Damien who’s still leaning against the window. There’s an unspoken conversation there, something I can’t decipher in my current state.

Finally, Cast exhales, slow and controlled. “Her name is Valentina Torres.”

I search my memory, but the name means nothing to me. “Who the hell is that?”

Cast tilts his head slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “That’s what we’re figuring out.”

Rage coils in my gut, fighting against the exhaustion dragging me down. “She the one who pulled the trigger?”

“No.” His answer is immediate. “But she knows who did.”

My throat is dry, but I force out the words. “Where is she?”

Cast talks lower than I think he ever has before. “We don’t know who she is yet.”

I stiffen. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“She’s careful,” Cast says, his voice sharp with frustration. “Whoever she is, she’s been playing the long game—watching, listening, gathering information. And now? She’s getting ready to use it.”

A slow, burning fury ignites in my chest. I flex my fingers, my grip tightening around the sheets. “So we’re dealing with a ghost?”

Damien speaks for the first time since Cast walked in. “Not a ghost. A hunter.” His voice is low, edged with vitriol. “And we’re the prey.”

I don’t like that.

Ihatethat.

My jaw clenches, my heart hammering against my ribs despite the drugs dulling my system. My mind runs through every possibility, every enemy we’ve made over the years, every grudge left to fester in the dark. But nothing clicks. Nothing makes sense.

And then—suddenly it does.

Ricardo.

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