Page 29 of Whispers of Ruin

That plain text does not leave room for interpretation. Lucian’s message is clear, and nothing about it feels good.

After everything Mira dropped on me yesterday, I had not reported back to the Ruler. I had been trying to piece things together, understanding her and the madness that’s beenunraveling. But his patience has run out. He wants answers, and I am not in a position to deny him.

I crack my neck, the tension in my spine like a coil about to break. I straighten myself up, the pressure of the decision bearing down on me. There is no backing out now. The anger bubbling under my skin has nowhere to go but forward. My mind races, still my body is already moving before I can even think. There is no time left for contemplation. No time for doubt.

Imustgo.

I shove my phone into my pocket, my pulse hammering against my ribs like a war drum.

The Order. Now.

Lucian never texts like that unless shit is about to go sideways. Which means I have a fucking problem.

Last night, I kept my mouth shut. About the way my entire world shifted the second I realized what she might remember. I thought I had time to figure this out before he caught on. Clearly, I was wrong.

Mira is still at the table, picking at her food not having a single damn clue that her life is hanging by a thread. That I might walk out this door and come back with orders to kill her.

A muscle ticks in my jaw. It makes no sense to care. I should have left her in that parking lot. Should have let Julian trade her like the disposable pawn she was supposed to be.

But I did not. And now, I am the one in the goddamn crosshairs.

I take a step toward her, dropping a hand onto the back of her chair, my fingers gripping the wood so tightly my knuckles turn white. She stills instantly. Her body reacts before her brain does—like some deep, buried part of her already knows how men like me operate.

I hate that. I hate the flicker of wariness in her eyes. Hate that I might deserve it.

“I have to go.”

She looks up at me, lips parting, hesitation flickering across her face. “Where?”

“Work.”

Her brows pinch together. She wants to push, already knowing I won’t let her. She is getting too good at reading me. I don’t have time for this. I push off the chair, turn on my heel. But her voice stops me cold.

“Xan…” Just my name. Soft.

Igrip the doorknob so hard it nearly breaks. If I look back now, I might not leave. And if I don’t leave, Lucian will come looking for me. So, I step out without another word. And slam the door behind me.

I cut the engine. The car comes to a stop with a low rumble, yet it’s the silence that suffocates me. Lucian fucking knows. Or at least, he knows something important. I have no doubt he’s been watching. He always does.

That’s the thing about him—he plays with people like they are pieces on a board, shifting them into place before they even realize they are in a game. I was meant to be ahead of this. Told him something before he had to summon me like a disobedient dog. But last night… last night changed everything.

Mira.

The way she looked at me, unguarded. The way she took me in her mouth, never breaking eye contact, daring to lose control. She knew exactly what kind of goddamn monster I am and still did not flinch. Fuck, for a moment, I let myself believe she wasreallymine. But Lucian won’t see it that way. He will see it as a weakness. A liability.

I roll my shoulders, trying to shake the tension, even so it’s useless. She should belong to me. Shedoesbelong to me. I will be damned if I let him take her away from me.

I move toward the entrance of the compound, the eyes of the others on me. No one says a word. I can feel them judging, but none of them dare to confront me. They know better.

Arriving at his office, I enter without knocking, knowing damn well Lucian’s waiting. As soon as I step inside, he looks at me over with that smug smile readable even under his mask, the one that says he already knows exactly how things are going to go. His gaze is sharp, studying me, slicing through the tension like a blade. I can feel the weight of his eyes, calculating, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“I have to say, I expected better from you, Xan.”

There is a smooth, amused edge to him—masking something cold. The power that comes from a man who owns everything inhis sight and relishes every second of it. He takes a measured sip of his drink, placing the glass back on the table with a deliberate clink, the sound cutting through the air.

“You were always my most disciplined one. My most ruthless,” he continues, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Yet, one little redhead bitch bats her lashes at you, drops down on her knees, and suddenly you’re losing your fucking mind.”

My jaw tightens. I can feel my fists clench at my sides, the pressure building. I’m pissed—hell, I’m more than pissed. The Ruler exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed by a foolish child.

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