Page 67 of Elven Prince

He thought these attacks might not have anything to do with Shade specifically, yet her Head of Security didn’t believe in coincidences. One of those statements had to be a lie.

If this wasn’t about Shade and Maxwell didn’t buy his own reasoning that this could all be a fluke, it meant only one thing.

It meant that at his core, in some hidden part of him, Maxwell Hannigandidbelieve Rebecca was at fault for this awful situation. Maybe not directly, but in some other way.

He wouldn’t say it to her face. Of course not. But he would watch her now as intently as he had before and after she’d taken command. He would weigh his findings against his own personal beliefs and agenda, and if that continued long enough, they’d find themselves at each other’s throats again.

Maybe even with far more detrimental consequences than last time.

No matter how hard she tried to improve things for this task force, the fact was, Rebecca Bloodshadow had inevitably made everything worse.

She and Maxwell had gone right back to the beginning, as if nothing between them had ever happened.

This time, though, Maxwell had placed himself front and center in all her affairs, as her bodyguard and right-hand man, her second in command, who hardly left her side.

He’d declared it to her himself several times over. The shifter owed her a life debt, which he fully intended to repay.

Whether that became anything more than their strict working relationship together—romantic or otherwise—Rebecca believed he would keep that vow.

Even if he thought she was solely to blame for the larger unknown threat Shade faced.

Rebecca might have taken that in stride if it weren’t for one major difference.

It wasn’t much, but she knew more about the shifter now than she had when he’d sworn that vow to her and given her his life.

That tattoo on his chest changed everything. The elven rune connecting a lone shifter to ideologies and elven politics and ancient alliances to which no shifter had any right to be connected.

If the time ever came, Rebecca didn’t know whether she could accept Maxwell’s decision to fulfill that life debt, knowing what she knew now.

Would shelethim fulfill his end of it when she was constantly wondering whether he’d already betrayed her and Shade? If there was the smallest chance Maxwell Hannigan himself might actually be behind all this?

The answer wouldn’t reveal itself now. Not like this. Not when she needed it to, while her Head of Security stood beside her, watching her dubiously. While the flaring tingle of that energetic pull between them intensified and heightened and tempted her body to submit to what her rational mind knew she could never embrace.

Not like this.

All Rebecca knew now was that if they didn’t get ahead of the coming danger soon, even by a single step, they were all fucked.

18

Rebecca’s gut sank even farther as she gazed out over the sea of faces staring back at her. Every member of Shade, both field operatives and Headquarters support staff, had hung on her every word so far.

She’d called a mandatory meeting in the common room to brief everyone together on the current circumstances, all at once, because there was no doubt now that thisdidinvolve everyone.

She’d just finished recounting the horrifying realization from the night before that all Shade’s business contacts, contractors, and partners had been targeted by a single enemy with the sole purpose of crippling Shade in a way they’d never faced before.

Every magical gazing back at her now remained silent and alert, waiting for their Roth-Da’al to reveal what they all seemed to believe was the rest of the pertinent information for this briefing.

There were right. There was more, and it was time for Rebecca to get around to it. No matter how wary she was of the mass fallout just around the corner.

“After this debilitating discovery last night,” she continued, “and only one of our contacts having been successfully recovered unharmed, I believe all signs point to this being a direct and intentional attack on Shade. Possibly even a personal attack. On me.”

A chorus of whispered reactions and cautionary comments rippled across the gathered task force.

Rebecca’s instant gut reaction was to quiet the noise and tell them that everything would be fine. To reassure them she had a plan.

She forced that urge to the back of her mind, though, because this time, that wasn’t an option. This time, it would have been a lie.

“Why?” someone shouted, followed by rising murmurs of assent.

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