Page 151 of Without a Trace
Neither did she.
Brielle stood with one hand on the back of a chair, eyes flicking over the table, over me. Her presence didn’t demand attention—it owned it. She looked clean and polished, every detail intentional. Perfect hair, blood-red nails, eyes too bright to be kind.
Zeke didn’t bother greeting her. “How did you find us?”
She smiled faintly, almost bored. “Someone slipped. Your little secret location? Not so secret.”
“Who?” Trace asked, voice low.
She dragged a finger along the table’s edge. “Someone close. That’s all I’ll say.”
Zeke’s stare didn’t shift. “You always were a snake.”
“I learned from the best,” she said sweetly.
“Brielle,” Zeke warned.
Her voice sharpened. “You should’ve sealed her off. Kept your hands to yourselves.”
I stepped toward her. “Why does any of this matter to you?”
Brielle stepped forward, heels silent on the wood. “The bond. It wasn’t yours to have. Wasn’t meant to form. Especially not like this.”
“You keep saying that,” I said. “But what does it actually mean?”
Zeke turned away, muttering something sharp under his breath.
Brielle snapped. “It means you’ve thrown a match into dry kindling. The Order is losing its mind. The Red Veil will do worse.”
My throat went tight. “I’m standing right here. Try saying that again.”
She leaned forward, the barest whisper. “You weren’t meant to exist.”
My chest burned. “And yet—here I am.”
Alden moved in closer behind me, silent but present.
Zeke broke the pause. “Tell her what you know.”
Brielle tapped a fingernail on the chair’s edge. “You want the history lesson? Fine. Ancient bonds were once sealed between warriors—blood for blood, power for power. But never across sides. And never in threes.”
She stepped around the table, deliberate. “Scarlett’s father broke that rule. He crossed lines no one dared to. And now his daughter’s doing the same.”
I stared. “You knew my father.”
“Oh, baby.” She smiled, but it cut. “Everyone did.”
Alden stiffened beside me. Trace still hadn’t said a word. His hands curled against the table, knuckles white.
“And you?” I asked, voice quieter now. “What’s your role in all this?”
“I was a contender,” she said, without flinching. “Trained by both sides. Chosen by neither.”
Rhett snorted. “Because you can’t fake loyalty.”
Her glare snapped to him. “Careful.”
She stepped back, dragging her fingers across the table’s edge. “The Order won’t protect you now. And the Red Veil never would’ve. You’re unclaimed. Untethered. Dangerous.”
