Chapter 23: Train Ride to Nowhere

Troy

I was in deep.

Totally and completely in over my head.

And as I watched Horace approach, his gnarled figure limping through the garden as though he were simply out on a stroll, I tensed, my shoulders tight and rigid as I straightened up to my full height and leaned the rake I was holding against one of the freshly pruned bushes.

The garden had become our meeting place after Maeve had caught me on the outskirts of the castle grounds on my first day in residence. Horace and I had been leaving notes to each other beneath a pile of fallen stones in the dilapidated shed since I arrived in Valoria several weeks ago as prepared to masquerade as Aaron, the breeder. Aaron, the one I knew she was falling in love with.

She didn’t know me. She couldn’t know me. And when she cried out his name while I moved within her, I could have screamed and beat my fists in agony. Oh, I was in trouble. Meeting my mate was not part of the plan.

Neither was trying to save her life.

I was here to trick her, to stall until Damian’s warriors arrived to take over the castle. That was the original plan, at least. No one had said a thing about killing her. Romero wanted me to actually bed her and get her pregnant, potentially holding her hostage until the child was born and Romero could do away with her, or worse, keep her alive to harness her powers.

But I wasn’t Romero’s pawn. I hadn’t even known he existed until the Persephone made port in Avondale, the capital of the Isles, six months ago when Alpha Damian demanded my presence and vaguely explained the mission.

I never considered myself part of Poldesse. We smugględ and pirated for them, sure, but I had grown up running wild with the other orphaned “beach rats” until Keaton had stolen enough coins and gems to have the rotten body of the Persephone towed from its shallow grave on a beach on the island of Suntra and fully renovate her.

Then we sailed the high seas. That was my home. My pack. That was where my loyalties lie.

But then I found out I had a living grandfather, and everything changed.

I would have done anything to know him, to look upon his face and maybe, just maybe, see a hint of the mother I couldn’t remember.

But Romero was a monster. A sick, deranged old man. And as I stood in the garden waiting for Horace to make his way toward me, I realized how much of a monster I was being to Maeve myself.

I had to get out of it. I had to get her out of it.

“So, it’s done? You’ve-”

“Slept with her?” I hissed, keeping my voice low lest the gardeners were listening. I always spent my mornings in the garden, not having much else to do. The physical labor was good for me.

“Yes. Were you successful?”

Horace’s lips stretched into a thin smile as he watched me, my obvious disdain for him seemingly adding years to his life. He was always lurking around, keeping an eye on me.

Maeve, I had

tossed the rake across the lawn toward the pile of gardening equipment and pushed past Horace, who looked after me in

“Where are you going?”

at him, narrowing my eyes into slits. “Did Ernest not tell you?

his voice low and beady eyes scanning the garden as he took a step toward me, his arm outstretched as though the skeleton of a

obviously,” I snorted, looking up at Romero’s tower for a moment before flashing Horace

back here, you

through the garden and out onto the pathway leading down into the village through the greenbelt. I beelined for the trees, cursing under my breath that I hadn’t had time to change out of the dirt-smeared jeans and T-shirt

***

23: Train Ride

the glass of sparkling water from her lips, her blonde brows

forever. I’ll be back tomorrow

errand Ernest has you going on?” She sipped her drink, her full, pink lips lingering on the glass

not from the heat of the day. We hadn’t been together intimately since that night in the library a week ago. I had been trying to avoid her as much as I could. I always tried to avoid her. But she kept pulling me back in. I could’ve reached across the table and taken her by the back of the neck, bending her

him,” I said, gripping my pint of beer for dear life as the image faded from

sipped from her glass again, then made a face, putting

“What’s the matter?”

not one of his

her brow, looking out over the street where the market stalls were flooding with people. “What are

know. I

gave me another look, her face somewhat

you upset?”

“What happens now, Aaron?”

always did when she mentioned Aaron’s name. I knew this conversation was coming. I had fulfilled my duties as a breeder this

packed up on a ship headed for Finaldi in a week’s time. What’s the plan? I thought helplessly. looking over at her and trying to steel my expression.

if I could get word to the Persephone

her eyes. “But I promise you’re going

my hand. I stood and rounded the table, squeezing her shoulder as

her, especially as she opened her mouth to protest. My fingers ached as my touch left her skin, and I walked off the curb. I tucked them in the pockets of my jeans as I

for the Port of Valoria when I requested one two weeks ago. I was looking for the Persephone, knowing she would dock at the port at least once during my stay. I knew Keaton wouldn’t be a part of Damian’s invasion, he had made that very clear. But, I needed to catch her first and get word to Keaton somehow, let him know I needed him to linger in the waters off the coast of Valoria and expect me to board when Damian and his pack flooded

would be bringing

and waited on the platform, glancing over my shoulder every once and a while

center of Mirage. The railway to the port was new, constructed in the last ten years or so based

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