Page 110 of Bonds of Hate

“It’s part of the defense protocol,” I remind him as I sink down to my knees to inspect one of the dead Alpha’s features. “If the security system’s AI detects invaders in the palace, corridors are strategically blown to create chokepoints that protect the royal families and the harem.”

“Does that mean the damn harem is trapped behind a pile of rubble?”

I scoff. Idiot. “Only if you don’t know about the fortified and well-guarded auxiliary entrances created for exactly this reason.”

Ares crosses burly arms over his chest, expression mulish. “We still need to make sure Maya is okay.”

“Already done, I’m just waiting for confirmation.” I wave my comm unit at him as I rise to my feet. “Right now, we need to make sure that every single one of these invaders is found and then figure out why the fuck they’re here.”

Ares looks like he wants to argue, but still follows me down the hallway.

I keep my steps silent as we move through the debris-strewn corridors, my tablet casting an eerie blue glow across the destruction. The emergency lighting flickers, creating dancing shadows that make threat assessment difficult. My nerves prickle. Everything about this situation feels wrong. It shouldn’t be possible for our intel to fail this spectacularly. How could anyone coordinate an attack like this with no one seeing it coming?

A notification pings. Three more unidentified bodies found in the east wing. All wearing palace uniforms, none of them in the system.

We systematically search, but most of the damage appears to be restricted to the central corridors. Most of the palace’s inhabitants were already safely located in the ballroom, the harem or their own apartments.

“You’re sure Maya’s safe?” Ares’s voice echoes too loudly in the strange quiet.

It isn’t the first, or second time, he’s asked.

I shoot him a glare. “For the third time, yes. The harem’s security protocols are designed specifically to protect valuable royal assets during attacks.”

The words taste bitter. I’d rather not think about Maya right now.

“Where is Logan?” Ares asks.

“He went looking for Cillian with a contingent of guards.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea.” Though I have my suspicions, there isn’t the time or space for speculation right now. “You’ll have to ask him next time you see him.”

My comm beeps with a new message, distracting me from further rumination on impossible things. I quickly scan it.

“Fuck.”

Ares is immediately at my shoulder. “What?”

“Maya isn’t in the harem.”

We take off running, instantly in sync without another word.

I race through the darkened corridors beside Ares, myboots crunching over broken glass and pieces of concrete. The emergency lights cast everything in an eerie red glow that makes the destruction look even more apocalyptic.

“Split up,” I bark at Ares. “You take the west wing. I’ll head east. She has to be somewhere in this mess.”

Ares nods and peels off without argument. For once.

I pull up the palace schematics on my comm unit as I run, checking for any signs of movement on the thermal imaging. Most of the sensors are down after the explosions, but a few still function enough to show scattered heat signatures moving through the building.

The scent of smoke and dust fills my lungs with each breath. Years of training kick in as I systematically clear each room, marking them on the map as I go. No sign of Maya, but I find more bodies — palace guards with official uniforms and no records in our system. If they’d known beforehand that the palace’s defense system utilized strategically placed explosives, this would have gone differently.

A silhouette moves ahead of me through the smoke-filled corridor, stride too purposeful for someone fleeing chaos. A long, dark robe with a hood obscures their identity even under the emergency lights.

Not the stride of a guard and moving with too much purpose for an innocent bystander. My hackles immediately rise.

“Stop!” My voice bounces off the crumbling walls and should be audible.

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