Page 83 of Owned

I drew in a sharp breath.

Valen crashed to the floor and didn’t try to bite back a groan of pain as he struggled to his feet, but Bastian only glared at me with murder in his eyes.

“Intriguing,” Lucian said thoughtfully.

He flicked his fingers and the crimson smoke dissipated entirely. The red orb’s pulses slowed, and the mist that surrounded it thinned as it floated across the room toward Lucian’s desk.

“A false meeting location, a new faction rising from within the Black Council… The Sages are playing a dangerous game, are they not?”

His gaze swept over us and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he considered what we’d said. He strode backto his desk and sank down into the high-backed leather chair. “I need more,” he said sharply. “Names. The location of the meeting. Who is leading this new faction?”

“You’ll have your answers,” I said, my voice rough from the pressure of his magic.

“Do not fail me,” he barked.

Dismissed.

Bastian turned on his heel and walked toward the door without uttering another word—I couldn’t tell if he was angry that I’d used the rumors he’d brought me or relieved that he’d escaped our father’s wrath.

Valen’s face was pale as he turned to follow Bastian.

As I turned to leave, Lucian called out to me.

“Wait—”

I didn’t want to turn around, but I couldn’t ignore him. He was unpredictable.

I wondered if he knew what was going on under his own roof.

“What doyouthink?”

Fuck.

“It’s possible,” I said through gritted teeth. “But we can’t be sure.”

“What are they planning?” His voice was low but crackled with anger—and something darker.

“I don’t know—”

“Then find out.” Lucian’s voice thundered through the room. He paused. “Or I’ll find someone who can.”

The threat was barely veiled.

My jaw ached as I turned away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing my frustration.

“I will,” I said and left before he could demand more.

Bastian and Valen were already halfway down the hall when I caught up to them. Valen pressed a hand against his ribs, and Bastian’s expression was unreadable as ever.

“Cowards,” I said.

“Bastard,” Bastian shot back without turning.

Valen glanced at me from the corner of his eye. His tattoos writhed beneath the fabric of his shirt, like they shared some unnameable pain.

“Next time you keep your lies to yourself,” Bastian snapped.

“I saved your skin, didn’t I?”

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