She didn’t like the way the Representatives ran the Republic, but it was apparent the rebels were no better than them.
Drawing in a deep breath, Brynleigh spoke the one sentence that would either be the cause of her death or the gateway to her freedom.
“I want to find the rebels and join their cause. They want to hurt the Representatives, and I want the same thing.” Again, with the lies. If Brynleigh had a penny for every falsehood she uttered in Jelisette’s presence tonight, she’d be rich. “I still want revenge for my family.”
Her shadows throbbed in her veins, desiring to come out and protect her, but she held them in. She’d placed all her cards on the table, and now, she would wait.
This wasn’t a moment for a show of force but of submission.
Eyes made of pure onyx ice drilled into Brynleigh’s. Jelisette tapped her index finger on her chin. The movement caused her sleeve to inch down, revealing a sliver of the black band wrapped around her wrist.
The Binding Mark.
It took everything in Brynleigh’s power not to react.
“And how does your fae captain feel about all this?” Jelisette eventually asked.
That was a good question.
If Ryker knew what Brynleigh was proposing, he’d be outraged. But he didn’t know. Besides, she was doing this for him.
“He has no feelings about it because I’m keeping him in the dark.” Truth. “It’s not that difficult. Men are… easily swayed. Besides, he thinks since I was Made, I’m weak.”
Another lie, although there were bits of truth nestled within those words. Even though Brynleigh knew Ryker thought she was strong, others in the Republic of Balance looked down on vampires because they were gifted with, not born into, their magic.
“Does he now?” The silky smoothness of Jelisette’s voice deepened, and she canted her head.
One moment, the deadly vampire was behind the desk. The next, thick, unnatural darkness shrouded the room.
Brynleigh went to scream, but no sound came out. Sharp nails dug into her throat, compressing her airway.
With vampiric strength, Jelisette lifted her progeny off the ground andsqueezed.
Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.
Maybe Brynleigh had miscalculated. She stiffened, her heart a mallet pounding against her chest as she tried to remain calm.
It wasn’t fucking working. Calmness was a distant dream.
Brynleigh’s palms slickened.
Pressure built, built, built behind her eyes.
Her lungs squeezed as they tried—and failed—to draw air.
She flexed her fingers, wanting to reach up and pull those nails out of her throat, but she didn’t dare do that.
Not yet.
Giving in now would only prove to Jelisette that she was weak and untrustworthy.
So, Brynleigh remained still, even as those sharpened nails sankdeeper. At first, they were needles, but soon, each one was a knife digging into her tender skin.
Brynleigh didn’t dare move. She wanted to keep her head, thank you very much.
The scent of copper grew stronger, wet rivulets trickling down her neck.
Her shadows throbbed in warning. Her head spun. Her fangs ached.