Shadera laughed now and the sound almost brought him to his knees. “A thousand credits says you won’t even have the safety off before I put a bullet in his skull and yours.”

Greyson shook his head, a grin now spreading over his face. “Deal”

Greyson met her gaze, and even with the humor, he saw the same murderous intent reflected there that burned in his own chest. In that moment, they understood each other perfectly—two weapons pointed now at the same man.

He turned back to the cache as Shadera took another step into the room, selecting a smaller gun that could be concealed in an ankle holster. “Take as many as you can hide,” he advised, reaching for a knife next. “We don’t know how this will play out, but—”

“If I were you, I’d carry as many as possible.”

The voice from the doorway sent Greyson spinning, gun raised and aimed before he’d fully registered the movement. He stepped in front of Shadera in the same motion, his body instinctively placing itself between her and the threat.

Mikel stood in the entrance to his room, his Veyra mask betraying nothing of his expression beneath. He made no move to draw his own weapon, showed no reaction to the gun pointed at his chest. He simply stood there, hands clasped behind his back in that perfect military posture Greyson had seen his entire life.

“It’s eleven forty-five, we need to go. The ceremony begins in fifteen minutes.” Mikel said, gesturing toward the window before turning away from them. “I’ll be by the door.”

Greyson slowly lowered his gun, turning back to face Shadera whose eyes were just as wild as she clung to his arm.

Trust the captain.

Chapter thirty-eightThe Vow

Lira moved through the crowd, her path to the platform opening before her as if by right. Bodies parted without hesitation, their masked faces tilting in respect as she passed. The air in the plaza was thick, suffocating with anticipation. Thousands gathered for the vows that would bind Shadera and Greyson.

Lira’s stomach clenched, bile rising in her throat as her fingers closed around the tablet in her pocket. She had minutes now. Just minutes to set everything in motion.

She glanced up to the platform where her father already stood at its apex, his golden mask gleaming brighter than any, the full weight of his presence pressing down upon the crowd. Her mother stood a few steps behind him, head dipped in submission.

Her lungs felt too small suddenly, unable to draw enough air. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the murmurs of the crowd. This was it. There would be no going back.

Lira slipped the tablet from her pocket and pressed it to her ear, turning slightly away from the platform. Her fingers trembled as she dialed, the encrypted line connecting almost instantly.

“I can see you on the feeds.” Callum’s voice was warm, amused—trying to calm her. “You look terrified. Remember to breathe.”

His casualness, his easy confidence, cut through her. He had no idea what she was about to do. What she’d already set in motion.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the words barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

A beat of silence. “What’s wrong?” The warmth drained from his voice, replaced by concern.

Lira swallowed hard, watching as the final preparations were made on the platform. The cylindrical veil hung suspended above the altar, ready to descend at the crucial moment. Soon Greyson and Shadera would stand beneath it.

“I can’t let it happen,” she said finally. “I can’t let them take Shadera to that room. You don’t understand what happens there.”

“Lira—” The alarm in his voice was growing. “What are you talking about?”

She glanced up at the platform. “I found documents. I didn’t know until a few days ago. Until I really started digging. She won’t just be forced to consummate the marriage with Greyson.” Her breath shuttered. “After . . . After Greyson and her . . . My father, his men . . . They rape them. They rape them and make their husbands watch.” The words spilled out of her now. “It’s not just a consummation of the marriage. It’s a consummation of their loyalty to the Heart and its leaders.”

She could hear Callum gasp. She pictured him in his office, surrounded by screens, watching her through a dozen different camera angles. Trying to piece together what she saying.

“I have a plan,” she said, her voice steadier now as her resolve hardened. “I should have told you, but I knew you’d try to stop me. All of you would have. But this was the only way.”

“The only way for what?” Panic edged into his tone now. “Lira, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it. The plan is working. Jameson’s teams are in position. Farrow is about to cut the power to the checkpoints inside the Heart to let them into the plaza. We’re almost there.”

“I can’t wait till tonight.” She watched as Veyra officers arranged themselves at the base of the platform, hands clutched around their guns. “I will not let them take her to that room. I won’t.”

“Tell me what you’re planning. Let me help you,” Callum insisted, his words coming faster now.

“Just let the others know that it’s starting.”

“Lira, please—”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hearing the desperation in his voice and hating herself for causing it. “I love you.”

She ended the call before he could respond, slipping the tablet back into her pocket. Her eyes burned, tears screaming to be freed, but she blinked them away. There was no room for weakness now. No room for doubt.

She climbed the steps to the platform, each one bringing her closer to the moment that would change everything. Her father turned as she approached, his golden mask catching the light, hiding whatever expression lay beneath.

“Is everything all right?” Maximus asked, his voice pitched low enough that only she could hear.

Lira nodded, meeting his eyes without flinching. “Yes, Father. I was just confirming that the billboards in the rings have the live streams working properly.”

He studied her for a long moment, as if trying to read beyond her words, beyond her mask. Then he nodded once, satisfied. “Good. Everything must be perfect today.”

Lira took her place beside her mother, feeling the weight of a thousand eyes upon her. Elara stood tall and elegant. Lira had always wondered what expression her mother wore beneath that mask. What thoughts passed behind those eyes that watched the world through metal slits.

She nearly gasped aloud when her mother’s hand slipped into hers, fingers intertwining and squeezing gently.

“I have never been more proud to have you as my daughter,” Elara whispered, her voice so soft it was barely a breath.

Lira’s mind reeled, her carefully constructed calm cracking at the edges. What did that mean? Did she know?

Before she could process, before she could fully latch on to the words, a stir ran through the crowd. Heads turned, bodies shifted, creating a path from the edge of the plaza to the platform.

Greyson and Shadera had arrived.

They moved in perfect synchronization, side by side but not touching. Greyson wore formal black, his mask the obsidian piece he’d worn all his life. Shadera walked beside him, the shawl draped over her shoulders, covering the evidence of her suffering. But she could still see the bruises marring her neck, disappearing beneath the fabric, only to reappear on her exposed leg through the high slit.

Bile rose in her throat as they ascended up the platform steps. This was it. Her heart thundered in her chest as Greyson’s eyes caught hers, and gave her a small nod.

Shadera’s eyes stayed focused forward, her chest rising and falling just as fast as her own.

They took their places on either side of the altar within the golden cylinder, standing like statues, barely breathing. The crowd fell silent, anticipation crackling like electricity in the air.