Page 74 of A Warrior's Fate

This was…sudden. But it had to be good news, right? Why else would the high general go out of his way to travel to Io from Ganymede?

Her insides bubbled with a mix of nerves and anticipation as she followed, the numerous steps to the door working the muscles in her tired legs.

She almost sighed in relief at the coolness that greeted her once inside the foyer, the establishment having as opulent an interior, drenched in burgundies and golds, as outside. Isla wished she’d been wearing something that seemed more put together than the outfit she’d donned after ditching her bloody nurse’s uniform, a wrinkled shirt she untied from her waist and haphazardly threw back on and her, simply coated head to toe in sweat.

As she contemplated if there was anything else she had to change into—trying to remember where the bathrooms were in this place to freshen up—her blood iced over.

She still had her bag. She was still holding her damn bag.

She had the marker, the book, and the dagger here in Io’s Pack Hall—a place ridden with the highest officials and, likely lingering somewhere, the Imperial Alpha himself.

One of the hierarchy’s tightest kept secrets, and two items that she just knew, in her gut, meant bad news, simply dangling off her shoulder.

She balked at the thought, steps faltering, and nearly fell over when Winslow came to a sudden stop.

He turned to her, explaining something Isla could only half-listen to because she needed an excuse to leave. She needed to get out of here, couldn’t risk letting anyone find what she had.

But this was the Warrior High General. It would be a blatant show of disrespect if she skipped the conference. It could cost her in her career, any position she wanted to hold.

Her grip on the strap of the bag tightened as Ravona, Winslow’s assistant, appeared on one of the two staircases leading up to the second floor where the high general was waiting.

Isla gulped. Focused and calm, she repeated her mantras. Focused and calm. It’ll all be fine.

And she followed.

There were three levels to the Pack Hall. The bottom was reserved for public use, holding functions, galas, balls, and some lodging for travelers. The second for more official business. But at the highest level, the level not many were permitted up to, were the offices of the Imperial Alpha, Beta, and highest-ranking Council members. Isla had been up there very few times in her life. Back when she was too young to know what she was looking at.

“Please wait here,” Ravona said, stopping once they’d opened into a new hallway. “Let me make sure he’s ready for you.”

Isla muttered her thanks as the petite woman went a few paces down the corridor to one of many large mahogany doors and disappeared behind it.

Once alone, Isla released a long breath. “Shit.” Her bag felt so heavy on her shoulder. “Shit, shit, shit.”

But it was all going to be fine. It would all. Be. Fine.

This was just a quick talk, and then she’d go home. Walk back to her apartment near Market Square. Maybe stop for a drink on the way. Maybe find someone to keep her company for the night. That had been her plan a couple of nights ago.

After a few more moments that felt like centuries, Ravona finally reappeared in the hallway. “He’s ready,” she said softly.

Isla nodded and then went to her, finding the butterflies were back, of anticipation this time. She embraced them, fed off them as the secretary pushed open the entrance and gestured inside.

Quick talk, get out, all will be fine.

Isla smoothed out her shirt the best she could, turned, and stepped forward, breaking the threshold of the room.

And then, she was ready for the ground to swallow her whole because she wasn’t faced with the high general—but with Imperial Alpha Cassius.

CHAPTER 19

Shit.

Adrien was the spitting image of his father—the only difference was, instead of the eyes her friend had inherited from the Imperial Luna, Cassius’s were endless depths of dark brown, nearly black, especially when swathed in the dim lighting of the corner of the sitting room. The darkness accentuated the hard lines of his face and made the grin he flashed seem more feral. Isla wondered if he could sense her heartbeat, if he could hear it. If he could hear her cursing so vilely in her mind that it would make her ancestors roll in their graves.

Alpha Cassius tipped his head to the secretary. “Thank you, Ravona. We won’t be long.” He strode into the center of the room. Into some light. It didn’t do much to soften his features or make him any less intimidating. “Ten minutes, and you can escort her out.”

Ravona bowed in response, and Isla, shaking out of her terrified stupor, followed suit, eyes lingering on the ground a second longer than necessary while she continued the internal tirade. But there had also been something that struck her as curious.

It was more than likely that Isla was being guided out of the premises due to the several halls they’d taken to get here. Halls that she’d need a map to track again. But she couldn’t fight the gnawing feeling that the Alpha didn’t want her freely moving about this floor.

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