They made it unaccosted to the back exit tucked behind a loading bay area. Mallorn nodded at the two guards stationed there, but when he reached for the door, one of the guards stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Halt. You know we are in lockdown until the Courting is over. Kesh’s orders.”

Mallorn paused. One eyebrow crept up as he slowly looked down on the guard’s hand on him, then back up to his face. “Bold of you to presume you get to command me, Girak. Do not get in my way. You won’t like the consequences.”

Girak lowered his hand from Mallorn’s shoulder, but he didn’t step out of the way. “The prince was clear. No one leaves without his explicit directive to us. If he confirms, of course we will let you be on your way, Mallorn. But until then, it’s our hides if we let anyone pass. Even you. And you know he’s fucking literal about it. He’s been a complete ball ache since the Breeder arrived.”

Mallorn narrowed his eyes slightly. “My orders are urgent—and from Kirigan, not Kesh. So either you move, now, or I will make you step aside. Once I return, I will tell Kirigan that his pressing and time-critical business was delayed because of you. And trust me—once I do, you will long for the time before he learned your name.”

There was a moment’s tense silence. Then, without another word, Girak moved back to the side of the door with a short nod.

“Wise choice.” Mallorn pushed open the door and stepped through. He held it open just long enough that Georgia managed to dart through behind him.

She followed him around the corner at the back of the old casino and into an alley, where a sleek, black car with tinted windows was parked.

“The backseat doors are open. Keep the cape on and the hood up until I tell you otherwise,” Mallorn said softly.

She did as she was told, sliding into the leather seat and tugging the cloak tighter around her body, hood shadowing her face.

Once the door closed behind her, Mallorn slipped into the driver's side and switched the engine on. “Make sure you stay down until we’re there. The runes won’t last much longer, and I can’t risk anyone catching a glimpse of you.”

“Okay.” Georgia slid down on her side, curling up against the backrest. Her heart still thumped unevenly in her chest, but when he pulled out of the alley and out onto the busy street, the first threads of relief started threading through her nervous system. They were going to make it. He was taking her to Kesh—Kesh, who had chosen that unnamed, unrelenting pull between them over honor, over duty. Over everything.

However confusing and horrible the past twenty-four hours had been, regardless of the hurt and betrayal she’d felt in his hands, it was worth it. Would be worth it. Because the one thing that had been brutally clear as she allowed the forty-nine lords to court her, the one inescapable fact she had refused to acknowledge, was that he was her only shot at happiness. Of a genuine connection—frail and fraught, but real.

Her one chance at true love.

Neither she nor Mallorn spoke for the next twenty minutes as he drove them through the city’s streets. She couldn’t see much from her low perch on the backseat, only the sides of indistinguishable buildings and occasional flashes of the sky, darkened by the window tint.

When the car finally slowed, then stopped, he pulled the handbrake and looked over his shoulder in her general direction. “You can remove the cloak now, Georgia.”

Finally.

She pushed off the seat to sit upright so she could undo the cape and pull it off her body. “Are we there?”

“Yes.” Mallorn plucked the silky fabric from her hand, folding it away in the glove compartment.

The car was parked in what looked like some sort of industrial car park, but from the backseat she couldn’t see much apart from a tall chain link fence and broken concrete.

Mallorn opened the driver's side door and slipped out of the car, then came around to the back and opened her door. It was only then she realized he’d had the child locks on.

“Come. He is waiting.”

She got out and frowned as she looked around. This place… why did it seem… familiar?

The demon by her side grabbed her by the elbow, his fingers still gentle, but the tug he gave her was firm.

Automatically, she followed him as he led her around the car—and she finally realized why this place seemed so familiar.

Ahead of them was a grim-looking warehouse, its roof covered in rusting corrugated steel. Atop the singular door, the word Hell flickered in red neon.

He’d brought her back to the brothel.

“Wait…” Confusion and a gut-level hit of dread made her feet falter. “Kesh said to meet him here? That… that can’t be right. Why would he⁠—?”

His hand around her elbow remained firm, the gentleness of his grip waning when his steps didn’t slow with hers and she was pulled along beside him. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t answer.

“Mallorn? Why are we meeting him here?” Her voice pitched higher, the dread solidifying. She dug in her heels. He grabbed her by the arms and slung her over his shoulder.

Too late, realization set in.

Kesh wasn’t waiting inside.

“No! No, what are you doing? No! You can’t do this, please, no!”

She screamed and kicked and fought to get off his shoulder. It was no use. He held her in place with no visible effort and carried her over the threshold, back into the nightmare she’d only narrowly escaped.

It was dark inside, the air frigid against her skin. No one sat at the reception desk this time, and as Mallorn’s long strides carried her down the long corridor with the makeshift chambers of horror lining each side. But though the smell of sex lingered, no one occupied the fluid-stained beds inside. The brothel was empty.

“Why is she screaming?” There was a voice up ahead—unfamiliar, but authoritarian. Disapproving. “Tell me you haven’t hurt the girl.”

“Of course I haven’t,” Mallorn growled. He carried her the last few paces, then put her down on her feet in a horribly familiar room: Jimmy the Pimp’s office. “She’s just familiar with this place. No woman willingly steps foot in a brothel twice.”

Georgia immediately tried to dart back out of the room, but Mallorn easily kept a hold of both her arms, rooting her in place.

“Let go of me!” She kicked at his shins, and connected, but he didn’t so much as flinch. He did, however, give her arms a small squeeze, as if to settle her. It didn’t have the desired effect, but the gentle contrast to the kidnapping he’d just performed startled her enough to cast a look around the room.

There were two men in there with them. One was heavy-set, wearing a pinstripe suit she recognized as easily as she did the calculating look in his eyes: Jimmy, in his human disguise. The other was a stranger—one with an intimidatingly tall and broad frame that somehow seemed to contain more mass than it could believably hold. A lord.

“She’s ‘been here before?’” There was dark ice in the stranger’s voice. Slowly, he turned his dark eyes toward Jimmy. “You whored a Pure Breeder?”

Jimmy swallowed and took a half-step backward. “N-no, of course not, Your Highness! I would never— There was a misunderstanding, you see. She was brought to me as payment for a debt. Once I realized what she was, of course I immediately changed any plans to work her. She’s untouched. I swear it.”

“Well. Not entirely untouched,” Mallorn grumbled.

The stranger shifted his focus to him, his black eyes narrowing slightly. “Not entirely…?”

“Prince Kesh had her. Released inside her. He would have claimed her, had I not interrupted.”

“The usurper’s brother is no more a prince than his brother is king. If you wish to live under my family’s benevolent protection, you will do well to remember this.” The lord held Mallorn’s gaze for a moment longer, then he turned his attention to her.