Page 8 of Seeking Shadows

The thing is, though—he couldn’t keep it up. He looked the part, but he didn’t have the substance to back it up.

Like, you can dress up as the king, but if you don’t have the heart or the mind to actually lead, it falls apart.

And honestly, it was hard to feel anything but pity for him in the end. He was just a guy lost in his own ego, thinking that making waves would get him what he wanted. But he didn’t have the depth to actually handle it.

He was a fool, really. A guy who got so wrapped up in the idea of power that he never stopped to think about what that actually meant.

And now he’s gone—his legacy nothing more than a lesson in what happens when you try to fake your way through life.

I know I’m playing a part here, but that kid? He had no clue.

Now I’m stuck pretending I’m him.

But I’m not him. I see the pieces, feel the weight of them. I may be a part of this world, but I’m not blind to what it takes to stay in it.

Well, but for her you would.

Charlie got two guys from the Society of Crow working undercover as my bodyguards, along with some staff to help around the mansion where she’s staying. Trustworthy ones—allegedly. But other than that? I’m on my own.

No other clans. No Evermore. No backup.

Just me, trying to survive long enough to figure out what the hell Nico Riviera is up to.

I expected Mia to deny me outright—to prove, once and for all, that she had indeed betrayed me.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she acted as if she had never seen me before in her life.

She went along with it.

“This is your fiancé, Reign Mitchell,” Nico introduced, his voice smooth with arrogance. “He will be responsible for helping us take the empire from our enemies.”

Yeah, as if. If I put myself in front of Taylor, she’d probably take me out in two seconds.

Still, I kept my expression neutral, unreadable, watching as Mia extended her hand with perfect etiquette.

I took it slowly, bringing it to my lips, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured.

“Likewise, Mr. Mitchell.”

Her voice was so formal, so polite, that Nico smiled at her approvingly.

And I frowned.

This is not my Mia.

Something is wrong.

I notice the way she blinks, as if she’s exhausted—too exhausted. Maybe it’s the narcolepsy, or maybe they’re drugging her. I make a mental note to look into that.

The anger still burns in my system.

How could I have let this girl crawl so deep into my head?

At what point did she start feeding information to her father?

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