Chapter 61: CHAPTER 61

Kira’s POV

The vase shattered against the wall.

I watched the fragments scatter across the floor, each piece catching the candlelight like broken stars. The sound had been satisfying—the sharp crack of porcelain meeting stone, the explosion of shards that mirrored the explosion inside my chest.

But it wasn't enough.

Nothing was ever enough anymore.

I swept my arm across the vanity, sending perfume bottles and jewelry boxes crashing to the floor. The scents of jasmine and rose mingled with the dust, cloying and sickly sweet. I wanted to scream. Wanted to tear my hair out and claw at my own skin until the rage that burned beneath it finally found release.

But all I could do was stand there, chest heaving, hands trembling, surrounded by the wreckage of my own fury.

The memory played on a loop in my mind. Dmitri's cold eyes. His dismissive tone. The way he had looked at me like I was nothing while that pathetic little peasant girl stood at his side, her green eyes wide with false innocence, her trembling hands reaching for him like she had any right to touch him.

Tessa.

The name was poison on my tongue. A curse. A wound that refused to heal.

She had taken everything from me. My position. My dignity. The only man I had ever loved. She had walked into my life and destroyed it in a matter of days, and I would never forgive her for it.

Never.

The door opened slowly, and Elena stepped inside. Her eyes swept over the destruction—the shattered vase, the overturned vanity, the scattered jewelry—and her expression shifted into something cautious. Something careful.

"Mistress," she said softly, closing the door behind her. "Please. You need to calm down."

"Calm down?" I laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. "You want me to calm down? After everything that's happened? After everything they've done to me?"

I swept another handful of objects off the vanity, the clatter of them hitting the floor satisfying in its violence. Elena flinched but didn't retreat.

"I understand you're angry," she said carefully. "I understand you're hurt. But destroying your room won't bring you peace. It won't—"

"I don't want peace!" I shouted, spinning to face her. "I want her dead! I want her gone! I want to watch the life drain from her eyes and know that she'll never touch him again, never look at him again, never breathe the same air as him again!"

My voice cracked on the last words, and I hated myself for it. Hated the weakness that seeped through the cracks in my armor.

Elena stepped closer, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Mistress, please. You need to trust the process. My brother's mercenary group is the best in the realm. They've never failed a contract. They won't fail this one."

I stared at her, my chest heaving. "You don't know that. You can't know that."

"I know my brother," Elena said firmly. "I know the men he works with. They're professionals, mistress. They'll get the job done. And soon—very soon—you'll have the news you've been waiting for."

I turned away, my hands pressed to my face. The tears were coming now, hot and unwanted, streaming down my cheeks.

"I just want her dead," I whispered. "I want her gone. I want to know that she's gone. I want to see it, Elena. I want to see her body. I want to know that she's suffering. That she's finally paying for everything she took from me."

Elena was beside me in an instant, her arms wrapping around me in a gesture of comfort that I didn't deserve. "I know, mistress. I know. And you'll have it. I promise you'll have it."

I didn't pull away. Couldn't. The touch was grounding, anchoring me to reality even as the rage threatened to consume me.

I was still crying, still shaking, when I heard it.

A soft flutter of wings. The sound of something landing on the windowsill.

I looked up, my eyes blurry with tears, and saw a raven perched on the ledge. Its feathers were black as midnight, its eyes bright and intelligent. It was carrying something—a small scroll, strapped to its leg.

Elena moved toward it carefully, her expression shifting into something alert. "A message," she said, her voice low. "From the mercenaries. It must be—"

"Open it," I said, my voice raw. "Open it now."

Elena untied the scroll and unrolled it, her eyes scanning the words quickly. I watched her face, searching for any sign of what the message contained.

Her expression shifted. Something flickered in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or concern.

"What does it say?" I demanded. "Elena, what does it say?"

She looked up at me, her face pale. "They've returned. The mercenaries. They're requesting your presence at the hideout."

My heart lurched. "Returned? Why? Did they—did they succeed?"

"I don't know," Elena admitted. "The message doesn't say. It only requests your presence."

I was already moving, grabbing my cloak from the hook by the door. "Then we go. Now. I need to know what happened. I need to know if she's dead."

"Mistress, please—" Elena started, but I cut her off.

"Now, Elena. We leave now."

She nodded, her expression grim, and followed me out the door.

\---

The ride to the hideout was a blur of darkness and shadow.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, the only light coming from the lanterns we carried. The wind howled through the trees, carrying the scent of rain and damp earth. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound seemed to whisper of danger.

But I didn't care. I was beyond fear. Beyond caution. All I wanted was answers.

Elena led the way, her horse moving sure-footedly through the darkness. I followed close behind, my heart pounding with anticipation.

She's dead. She has to be dead. The mercenaries are the best in the realm. They wouldn't have returned if they hadn't succeeded.

The thought was a prayer, a desperate hope that I clung to like a lifeline.

We reached the hideout in record time.

Elena dismounted and tied her horse to a post near the entrance. I did the same, my hands shaking with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

The door opened before we reached it. A guard stood in the doorway, his face hidden in shadow.

"Lady Kira," he said, his voice low and rough. "The boss is waiting for you."

I pushed past him without a word, Elena following close behind.

The interior of the hideout was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of smoke and sweat. A handful of men were scattered around the room, their faces grim, their eyes tracking my movement.

And at the center of it all sat the boss—the same man I had met with days ago, his face weathered, his eyes calculating.

I stopped in front of him, my hands on my hips, my chin lifted.

"Well?" I demanded. "Did you succeed? Is she dead?"

The boss was silent for a long moment. His eyes met mine, and I saw something in them that made my blood run cold.

"Lady Kira," he said slowly. "We encountered... complications."

"Complications?" I repeated, my voice rising. "What kind of complications?"

The boss leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "The target was traveling with the Lycan King. He was in her carriage. He protected her with his own body. Our men did their best, but—"

"But what?" I demanded, stepping closer. "Did you kill her or not?"

The boss's jaw tightened. "We're not certain. There was an explosion. The carriage was destroyed. But we couldn't confirm the kill. The Lycan King went berserk—he killed most of our men. We lost good people, Lady Kira. Good people."

"You lost—" I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. "You lost men. You lost resources. But you didn't finish the job?"

"We did what we could," the boss said, his voice hardening. "We risked everything for this contract. We lost soldiers, weapons, contacts—all of it. And now you stand here demanding answers like we failed you deliberately."

"I don't care about your losses!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls. "I don't care about your men! I paid you to kill her, and you didn't do it!"

The boss rose to his feet, his eyes blazing. "Watch your tongue, Lady Kira. You're in no position to make demands. We took a risk for you. A huge risk. And we delivered what we could. If you're not satisfied, that's your problem. But you'll pay what you owe, or there will be consequences."

I stared at him, the rage burning in my chest threatening to consume me. "You're a failure," I spat. "All of you. You're worthless. I should have known better than to trust a band of mercenaries to do a real job."

The boss's expression darkened. "You'll pay, Lady Kira. Half of what was agreed—as we discussed. Or you won't leave this room alive."

I could feel Elena's hand on my arm, tugging me back. "Mistress, please," she whispered. "We need to pay. We need to leave. We can't—"

I shook her off, my eyes locked on the boss. "Fine," I hissed. "You'll get your payment. But know this—if I find out she's still alive, I'll come back. And I won't be alone."

The boss's lips curved into a cold smile. "I'd expect nothing less, Lady Kira."

I threw the payment at his feet, the coins scattering across the floor.

Then I turned on my heel and left, Elena following close behind.

The ride back was silent. I was too furious to speak, too consumed by the rage that burned in my chest.

But beneath the rage, there was something else. Something colder. Something more dangerous.

If she's still alive, I'll kill her myself. I'll find her, and I'll kill her. No matter what it takes. No matter how long it takes. I will have my vengeance.

The thought was a promise. A vow. A dark, intoxicating longing that pulsed through my veins like a drug.

And I would keep it. No matter what.