Chapter 77
Lirael
The drive to the Frostcrown Hotel stretched through Frosthaven's winding streets, each turn taking us deeper into the city's glittering heart. Elwin's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and I could feel his anxiety radiating outward in waves that matched my own hammering pulse.
"Sophia has a tell," Elwin said suddenly. "When she's working through something complicated, she taps her right index finger to her temple. Like this." He demonstrated, finger barely grazing his temple. "She's brilliant but solitary. Gets so absorbed in her research she forgets to eat, forgets people are even talking to her. They think she's cold, but she's just... elsewhere."
I filed away each detail, building Sophia's persona like armor. The Moon's Tear had given me her face—now I needed to inhabit her mannerisms. My fingers drummed against my thigh until I forced myself to stop. "What if something goes wrong? If someone sees through it?"
Elwin's jaw tightened. He pulled out a silver bracelet, its surface etched with faintly glowing runes. "Emergency beacon. Anything goes wrong, press the center stone three times fast. I'll be monitoring. I can be inside in under two minutes, and Damian's people are around the perimeter."
The bracelet clicked around my wrist, warm against my skin. A lifeline, but also a reminder of how fucked I'd be if this went sideways. "You said this is just a social dinner?"
"Quarterly networking event. Scholars, politicians, wealthy collectors." His voice carried bitter irony. "Very civilized on the surface—champagne, classical music. But underneath it's a marketplace. Information for favors, artifacts for cash. And sometimes people disappear and never come back."
My stomach twisted. I swallowed hard, pressing my palm against the cool window. "Sophia was invited because of her expertise?"
"She's the expert on pre-cataclysm elven civilization. When they found those northern ruins, she was the obvious choice." Pride and worry warred in his voice. "But I think she found something they didn't want her to find. Something that made her dangerous."
The pieces clicked together with sickening clarity. They'd invited Sophia to extract her knowledge, then made her disappear. Which meant I was walking into a trap that had already been sprung once, like a fucking idiot walking back into Eden.
And if Sebastian shows up...
I shoved the thought away violently, but it lingered. He'd locked down Ark City looking for me. The distance to Frosthaven was vast, but I'd learned never to underestimate his reach.
"Lirael." We'd stopped in front of the Frostcrown Hotel—sweeping curves of white stone and crystalline glass, rising seven stories. "You don't have to do this. We can turn around—"
"There is no other way." I met his eyes, saw my fear reflected back. I'd survived three years in Eden, Sebastian's collar, Victoria's cruelty. I'd cut off my own fucking hair to escape, jumped from a yacht into black water. This was just another kind of survival. "I'll be fine."
Elwin squeezed my hand hard enough to hurt. "Sophia would be proud."
I'm not doing it for strangers. I'm doing it because I'm tired of being alone.
I stepped into Frosthaven's bitter cold. In the hotel's mirrored entrance, Sophia Moonwhisper looked back—platinum hair, purple eyes, silver tracery glowing at my throat. I touched my finger to my temple, testing the gesture.
Forty-six hours left. Make them count, and try not to die.
---
The lobby was all ice and light, vaulted ceiling overhead, crystal walls catching the glow from floating orbs. My boots clicked against polished marble, each step echoing too loud. The air carried winter roses and something older that made my skin prickle.
Built on elven foundations. I could feel the ancient bones beneath the modern opulence, humming with residual magic in my chest. My fingers twitched with the urge to touch the walls, but I clenched my fists and kept walking.
Two guards flanked the ballroom entrance. Werewolves, both of them, golden eyes tracking every movement. One stepped forward. "Invitation, please."
I handed over Elwin's envelope with fingers that wanted to shake but didn't, thank fuck. The scanner projected holographic details: Sophia Moonwhisper, Scholar-Class Member, Clearance Level: Gold. The guard's expression flickered with respect.
"Identity verification required." His partner retrieved a crystal sphere—a magical resonance detector.
Shit.
If the Moon's Tear couldn't fool this thing, I was done. Game over.
The sphere rotated, filling with silver mist as it scanned me. I felt it probing, invisible fingers trailing across my skin like spiders, and the glamour surged with heat. Sweat broke out along my spine. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Five endless seconds while the mist churned faster—
Green glow.
"Magical signature confirmed. Welcome, Ms. Moonwhisper. Second floor."
I touched my finger to my temple, assuming Sophia's distant expression even though I wanted to sag against the wall. "Thank you." Cool and slightly bored, exactly right. I moved past before they could see my hands trembling.
Behind me, one guard muttered: "That's the Moonwhisper woman? Only one who can read the old language."
"Valuable asset. Hope she knows when to keep her mouth shut."
Ice slid down my spine. They're watching her specifically. Whatever Sophia found was significant enough to warrant elimination if necessary.
The Grand Ballroom was calculated opulence—crystal chandeliers, priceless tapestries, at least fifty guests in expensive evening wear. A string quartet played while servers circulated with champagne.
I accepted a glass, no intention of drinking but needing something to do with my hands. The guests were a mix of supernatural and human power brokers—vampires with their unnatural stillness, fae with too-fluid movements, werewolves with flashing golden eyes. All playing nice while probably plotting each other's downfall.
I positioned myself near a window, using the reflection to observe. My free hand drifted to the emergency beacon, fingers brushing the smooth stone.
Then I heard it—a voice that locked every muscle with white-hot rage.
"The Nightwatch has been so accommodating." Victoria's laugh carried across the ballroom, high and false. "When I approached them with information about certain... rare specimens, they were extremely grateful."
No. No fucking way.
I turned slowly, champagne glass threatening to shatter in my grip. There she was—Victoria Hartfield in deep crimson silk, golden-brown hair in elaborate waves, makeup flawless. She looked like success incarnate.
Like someone who hadn't spent a decade torturing a child for profit.
My nails dug into my palm, drawing blood. The champagne glass trembled, and I had to consciously loosen my grip before it broke.
"You mean that elven?" one of her companions asked.
"Oh, that little monster." Victoria waved dismissively, eyes gleaming with malice. "She could cry these pearls. Moon Dew, the scientists called it. Absolutely priceless. We made a fortune selling her to Genesis—they were very interested in studying her anomalies." She leaned in. "Between you and me, they're still using her for experiments."
Images flooded my mind—the deer they'd starved, making me watch it waste away before forcing the meat down my throat. The hot iron pressed against my skin until I screamed. The cage in Eden's basement.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper, using the pain to anchor myself. My whole body shook with the effort of standing still, of not screaming, of not letting the vines in the planters surge up and strangle her.
Breathe. Just fucking breathe. You can't break cover.
Victoria turned, scanning the room, and our eyes met. Confusion flickered across her face—Do I know you?—and I looked away with bored disinterest. My heart hammered in my throat, but I kept my expression blank, took a sip of champagne I didn't taste.
Not here. Not now. Can't let her recognize anything familiar.
I moved away, legs stiff, every step requiring conscious effort. My free hand clenched and unclenched, nails leaving crescents in my palm. I circulated through the edges, searching for restricted areas, noting exits and guards—all while my mind kept replaying Victoria's words.
I'll kill her. When this is over, I'll come back and make her understand exactly what she did.
Then the atmosphere changed.
Conversations faltered. That particular shift in air pressure that came with an apex predator. My spine went rigid, breath catching. Guests turned toward the entrance, some deferential, others barely concealing fear.
No. Please, no—
Sebastian stepped through the doorway like he owned the entire fucking city, and maybe he did.
Perfect black three-piece suit, antique ring catching light, amber eyes sweeping the room with lazy menace that made my blood run cold. The crowd parted automatically, and I felt my stomach drop straight through the floor.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—