By all the gods, this was worse than her most terrifying nightmares.
“Here’s yourproof.” The rebel’s eyes hardened, and he stepped to the side.
Hallie screamed, “Therian!”
Eleven men were huddled together, all on their knees. Their arms were tied behind their backs. Brown canvas sacks covered their faces. Prohiberis cuffs were locked around their hands and feet. Clothes were torn and dirty.
Several other masked men surrounded them, each holding impressive-looking guns that could probably kill someone in one shot.
It took Brynleigh two seconds to find Ryker.
He was in the middle of the group, hooded like the rest, but it didn’t matter. She would recognize his form anywhere. Those hands that held her close. His arms. He was still wearing his running gear, for the gods’ sake.
Momentary worry flashed through Brynleigh’s head for Marlowe, but she’d have to deal with that later.
Her gaze snagged on the red trail of blood on Ryker’s shirt. It wasn’t enough to be a severe injury, especially with his fae healing, but still.
Someone hadhurthim and made him bleed.
Her fangs burned, and she clenched her fists. She would kill them for this.
He washers.
Brynleigh was so distracted by the bloody shirt that it took her a moment to realize the masked man had returned. His eyes were stony and filled with violence.
“You’ve gotten what you asked for,” he snarled. “Now it’s my turn. If you wish to see these men alive, Chancellor Ignatia Rose will announce tonight that she is dismantling the Representative government and stepping down from her position, effective immediately.”
“I. Will. Not.” The Chancellor spoke with confidence.
Brynleigh hadn’t even realized the head of the Republic was on stage.
Four broad-shouldered bodyguards flanked the Chancellor as she strode towards the screen. Her emerald wide-legged pantsuit lookedexpertly tailored as it hugged her fae form. Black heels gave her several inches over most of the others, clicking as she walked.
“We do not negotiate with people like you,” the Chancellor continued.
Her voice was like ice. She spoke in a measured, quiet tone, and power was woven through every word.
Brynleigh’s stomach bottomed out.
“People like me? I know who you are,Ignatia.” The rebel hissed her name as if there was something personal between them. “What you and your inner circle have done in the name of the Representatives. The people of this continent have suffered long enough beneath your ‘care.’ It’s time for a change of pace.”
The energy in the room shifted. The air thickened, and breathing was more difficult than ever.
Brynleigh’s heart pounded, and the Chancellor bristled. Embers crackled at the fae’s fingertips.
Long moments passed as the rebel and the Chancellor stared at each other before the fire fae shook her head.
“No,” she said calmly. “Release them, and this will go easier on you.”
The rebel laughed as if this was all a joke.
“Easier? Nothing is ever easy for those of us who aren’t born into power.”
“You—”
“No. Your reign of terror has gone on long enough.” He canted his head, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Perhaps you need some additional motivation.”
Brynleigh forced herself to breathe and analyze the situation despite the horror coursing through her veins.