“They will,” I say quietly.
Harlow studies my face, her brow knitting.She has learned me far too quickly, learned the subtle shifts in my expression, the tension in my jaw, the storm clouds gathering behind my eyes.
“You don’t trust them.”It is not a question.
I exhale slowly.“Trust is ...complicated where the Blood Council is concerned.”
“That’s not an answer.”
A faint smile tugs at my lips despite everything.My fierce, relentless consort.Always pushing and always demanding the truth.
I brush my thumb along the curve of her jaw.“It is the only one I can safely give you.”
Her eyes narrow slightly.“Mateo...”
The way she says my name should be illegal.
I lean down, pressing my forehead to hers.“We are doing exactly what we discussed.”
Her shoulders tense beneath my hands.
Earlier, in the privacy of my chambers, we had pieced together everything.Every strange encounter.Every unsettling detail.Every instinctive whisper of wrongness clawing at the back of my mind.
The jagter attack.Her near abduction.The subtle inconsistencies in Council communication.And most damning of all...
The way one of the Council members had looked at her during their last remote audience.
Predatory and calculating.
Harlow’s fingers curl slightly into my shirt.“I still don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
“Playing dumb feels like walking into a trap.”
“It may very well be.”
Her heartbeat spikes, a frantic flutter against my chest.
I tighten my hold reflexively.“But we are not walking in blind.”
A throat clears behind us.Deep.Measured.Power laced through every syllable.
“Good.I would hate to think my coven incapable of basic strategic reasoning.”
Aziel.
I straighten immediately, though I do not release Harlow.My Maker stands a few steps away, arms folded, dark eyes gleaming beneath lantern light.He looks every inch the ancient predator he is—controlled, lethal, and absolutely unreadable.
Yet beneath it all, I sense his own unease.
Kyson steps into view beside him, his expression a familiar mask of perpetual irritation.Scarlet lingers slightly behind, her sharp gaze scanning everything, always alert.
Head of Security.Headache incarnate.Family.
“We are not fools,” I say dryly.
Kyson snorts.“Debatable.”