Chapter 20
Lirael
I made my way toward the hallway, moving with deliberate casualness even though panic clawed at my throat. Behind me, I could feel Sebastian's attention tracking my movement even while he appeared focused on his conversation.
He's watching. He knows exactly where you are every second.
The hallway was blessedly empty. I found the bathroom door and reached for the handle, already planning—window assessment, drop distance, nearest exit.
But before I could turn the knob, a voice spoke from behind me.
"Excuse me, Miss."
I turned to find four men in dark suits blocking the hallway. Black Guard—I recognized the weapons concealed under their jackets, the way they'd positioned themselves to block escape routes.
The one in front—older, military bearing, cold eyes—stepped forward with a professional smile.
"The Alpha has requested that we provide security escort for you this evening," he said politely. "For your protection. We've been instructed that you're not to leave our sight."
Protection. He means imprisonment.
"That's very considerate," I said, keeping my voice steady. "But unnecessary. I'm just—"
"The Alpha's orders are absolute, Miss." The guard's smile didn't waver, but steel underlaid his courtesy. "You may use the facilities, but we'll be waiting directly outside. When you're finished, we'll escort you back to the ballroom. The Alpha is very concerned about your safety."
He's turned the entire floor into a cage. No window escape. No disappearing. Just his guards and his surveillance and his absolute control.
I looked at the four werewolves surrounding me—front, back, both sides—and understood with perfect clarity that this had been Sebastian's plan all along. He'd given me just enough rope to hang myself, let me think I had choices, then closed the trap with ruthless efficiency.
"Of course," I said finally, forcing a smile. "I appreciate the Alpha's concern."
The guard's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes that might have been pity.
"We'll wait here, Miss. Take whatever time you need."
I stepped into the bathroom and locked the door with shaking hands, staring at my reflection. The holographic disguise still held, but I could see the cracks forming—my real features bleeding through at the edges, the silver-gray of my actual eyes flickering behind the projected brown.
My fingers found the dampening collar beneath my neckline, tracing the engraved Blackwood crest.
So much for freedom. So much for revenge. You walked right into his trap.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe, to think.
You're not dead yet. You're not back in the greenhouse. As long as you're still standing, still conscious—you can find a way out.
But when I opened my eyes and looked at my reflection again, I saw the truth.
I wasn't Moonlit Fish, successful investor and mysterious newcomer. I wasn't even really Lirael anymore, the resistance leader who'd built networks and toppled enemies.
I was Sebastian Blackwood's escaped pet, and he'd just made it abundantly clear that every move I'd made tonight had been part of his game, not mine.
The only question now was what I'd do about it.
Outside the window is a lake. Although I'm not very good at swimming, I'll just give it my all.
---
Sebastian
I watched the hallway where my guards had positioned themselves, a satisfied smile playing at my lips as I half-listened to Sterling drone on about energy projections.
Four times. She stepped on me four times. Deliberately. With that particular combination of defiance and calculation that my little pet specializes in.
She escaped the greenhouse. Not only escaped, but used a fake identity to infiltrate Kane's party, mingled with Ark City's elite, and had the audacity to dance with me while pretending to be someone else.
The sheer boldness of it was intoxicating.
Marcus appeared at my elbow, phone in hand, his expression carefully neutral in a way that meant bad news.
"Report," I said quietly, turning away from Sterling's tedious monologue.
"Sir, target has disappeared from the fiftieth-floor restroom." His voice dropped to barely audible. "Window shows signs of forced exit. We found abnormal ivy growth on the exterior wall—growth rate that violates natural law."
I felt my lips curve into a wider smile, something dark and hungry unfurling in my chest.
"Surveillance caught her descending the outer wall at extremely high speed," Marcus continued. "She's already entered the green belt behind the building. We've lost visual."
"She not only escaped the greenhouse," I said softly, more to myself than to Marcus, "but used a fake identity to infiltrate high society, and dared to dance with me." I paused, letting the full scope of her audacity sink in. "She's been playing me this entire time."
The realization should have angered me. Instead, I felt almost... proud.
Marcus shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, should we—"
"Deploy the Black Guard immediately," I ordered, my tone shifting to pure command. "Seal every exit route out of Ark City. I want checkpoints at the bridges, the highways, the harbor. Nothing leaves this city without my knowledge."
"Yes, sir. And the Tower?"
"Contact Obsidian Tower security. Have them check Greenhouse Thirteen for substitutes or decoys." I pulled out my antique pocket watch—the one with my brother's black diamond embedded in the cover, the one whose mechanism served as the only key to her dampening collar. The moonlight caught the diamond's facets, making it gleam. "If she managed to fool our systems with a replacement, I want to know exactly how sophisticated her network is."
Marcus nodded and began relaying orders through his earpiece.
I turned the watch over in my palm, feeling its familiar weight, tracing the engraved initials on the back with my thumb. The mechanism inside was unique—designed specifically to unlock only one collar in the entire world. The collar currently wrapped around my escaped pet's throat.
She can run as far as she wants. But she can't remove that collar without this key. And she can't leave the city without triggering the gene-lock. She's trapped in a cage of my making, even if she doesn't realize it yet.
"Prepare the car," I said, snapping the watch closed with deliberate precision. "I'm going after her myself."
Marcus's eyes widened fractionally—the closest he ever came to showing surprise. "Sir, is that wise? If Genesis Foundation is watching—"
"Let them watch." My voice carried enough edge to make him step back. "She's mine. Not theirs. Not anyone else's. Mine. And I'm going to make absolutely certain she understands that before this night is over."
I glanced one more time toward the hallway, then toward the massive windows overlooking the city. Somewhere out there in the rain-slicked streets and shadowed alleys, my little pet was running, thinking she'd won, thinking she'd outsmarted me.
Run, little one. Run as fast as those beautiful legs can carry you. Make this hunt worth my while.
Because the truth was, I'd known she would try to escape eventually. Had been waiting for it, even. The greenhouse had been too secure, too suffocating. She needed to believe she had a chance, needed to think she could outmaneuver me.
And now she'd played directly into my hands.