Page 143 of Filthy Royal

Her head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

Hells, he should have paid more attention when his brothers fucked up. Did they have to apologize to their omegas more than once too? Still, if that’s what it took, he’d suck it up and—

His attention caught on one of the feeds on the desk, partially covered by his cloak. He shoved the fabric off the top. “Holy hells. That’s Stormhart.”

“No.” Her palm slammed down on the screen. Except her hand was so small it covered only a portion of the monitor, leaving half of Stormhart still clearly visible, his pretty-boy face and swagger unmistakable as he marched briskly down an alley.

Wasn’t he supposed to be searching the cargo bay for Scarlett?

Damien’s benefit-of-the-doubt attitude toward Scarlett took a hit as it sank in that she’d flat-out lied to him.

He nudged her hand to the side. “Want to try another answer?”

“I thought you were here to find something about your sister.” Discomfort poured off her in waves. “Watching Kadon will tell you nothing. What matters is seeing if Darvish left behind any files or vids that might provide clues. We should check the storage unit in case he left any important ones there.”

So she’d gone from flat-out lying to deflection. Not much better.

Damien plucked her hand from the screen. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Stormhart reappeared, moving fast, his body tense and purposeful. Definitely a male on a mission.

Damien’s shoulders bunched, fury washing through him.

Had this been a fucking ploy the whole time? A delaying tactic to allow Stormhart to come after them? Was Scarlett’s claim that she wanted to help find his sister nothing more than a lie meant to distract him until help arrived? Had she fucking played him again?

Damien didn’t recognize the alley Stormhart was charging through, but he didn’t like the intense, aggressive expression on the other male’s face.

If the bastard was hustling to get Scarlett back, he was in for a serious disappointment.

“We don’t have time for this.” Scarlett tugged at Damien’s hold. “Darvish has begun tying up loose ends and erasing evidence of his identity and activities here. That means you and I are not the only ones in danger. Luc, Kadon”—she swallowed hard— “the whole dome could be at risk.”

Damien didn’t budge, his gaze following Stormhart’s advance. “I can scan and watch.” Every word she uttered might be true, but he also recognized an attempt at distraction when he heard it.

Which only made him more determined to stay right where he was.

She had so many fucking secrets, and he wanted to unlock every single one.

On the screen, Stormhart glanced over his shoulder before ducking down another narrow alley. Luckily, there was a recorder there too. It picked him up only a few heartbeats later, only this space was much darker. As a result, the monitor only displayed glimpses of his face and form, smudges of movement and shadow rather than actual detail.

Then Stormhart disappeared from the frame altogether.

Damien cursed.

He’d finished scanning all the remaining vids but still didn’t move.

He wasn’t even sure Stormhart was still there… until he spoke.

“Thank fuck you got away.” The voice of the male just out of sight was thick with emotion, but it was definitely Kadon Stormhart. “Thank fuck you’re safe.”

Unlike the visual from the feed, the audio remained crystal clear.

“You shouldn’t listen to this.” Scarlett reached around him, interrupting his speculation as she slapped at the buttons next to the screen.

“But I want to.” Damien grabbed her hands and pinned both to his chest. If he was about to overhear strategies to help him get Scarlett back or intel on Darvish, he’d absorb every syllable.

“We don’t have much time, and everything’s gone to hells.” Stormhart growled low, but again, the mic picked it up with ease. “I just…” He sounded almost defeated. “I just… need you so damned bad.”

Too late, Damien realized what this was. Not a trick or a planning session, but a secret rendezvous.

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