21. Livana

Chapter 21

Livana

" W hy aren't we continuing forward?" I ask when Zev turns Rain toward an elevated path off the main road that will take us northwest.

"We have to go to Pathsway."

"Drifter territory?" I ask. "Why in Aletha's name would you want to take me there?" I ask, my eyes darting between the two of them.

It's hard not to flush at the sight of the two males after what they did to me last night, but the shock of heading toward Pathsway, home to the Drifter Academy, is enough to quell it.

"Won't they punish you?" I continue when they don't answer, and I lower my voice as if the deserted road will grow ears and betray what I say next. We've seen our fair share of travelers, but not enough to worry about being overheard. "For slaughtering a fellow drifter crew?"

"Do you honestly think I'd go there if they would?" Zev asks, flashing me an incredulous look.

My shoulders drop. "I don't know you two that well."

Jagger cocks a brow in challenge at that statement, but Zev just looks unamused.

"What?" I shrug. "Physically, sure. I know what you both taste like, but emotionally? Don't look so shocked, it's not like either of you fully trust me either."

We haven't had time to build any real trust yet, but not trying to kill me upon learning my secret goes a long way in forming a foundation to build on.

They share a silent glance before returning focus on me.

"So this is where we parts ways then?"

Zev tilts his head, those golden eyes piercing.

"I have no interest in being fodder for another drifter battle," I say. "If ever I had motivation to run, it's now."

Zev takes one step toward me, his massive body towering over me as I look up at him.

"And being turned over to the Collector wasn't motivation to run?" he asks, voice low and rough.

I glance to Jagger, who seems to be wondering the same thing.

Shit. They're too close to unraveling the real reasons I haven't run from them yet. But going to Pathsway will be out of the way and I'm so close to Lingate. To reaching my goal…of course, I kind of need them to get into the palace.

"You are full of secrets, aren't you, dove?" Jagger asks, no judgment in his tone.

"Clearly," I say.

"Drifters are forbidden from attempting to steal bounties at the academy," Jagger explains. "Outside the castle? Every bounty is fair game."

Zev let's out a low, frustrated growl. "There will be no battle over you. You're our bounty and no one will touch you. We'll see to that." He points toward the northwest. "We go to Pathsway because we must inform our leader of the incident," he explains.

"And hang their necklaces on the great mountain where they belong," Jagger adds.

I curl my lip, disgust rolling through me. "They tortured me," I whisper. "They were going to take turns having their way me. Whatever resting ritual drifters have, they don't deserve it."

My eyes dip to their necks, to where their drifter necklaces hang at the hollow of their throats. Zev's is a golden chain, a small star charm with an internal piece that spins resting in the center. Jagger's is the same, but a cerulean blue color.

"Of course they don't," Jagger says. "We don't go to honor them."

"Then why?—"

"We go so that no one else can find them and siphon their power."

Their necklaces acted as a sort of talisman, harnessing their powers, but not exactly like mine would be…if I ever found it. With the death knoll hanging over my head, it's not likely.

"Couldn't you take the power for yourself?" I ask, tilting my head.

They share a concerned look.

"You know better than the two of us," Jagger says. "That taking power that isn't yours leads to madness."

I nod, folding my arms over my chest like that can protect my heart. My mother always spoke of those evil Enchantresses who would steal other tresses' talismans for themselves. Siphoning power on top of power until it broke their minds and drove them mad to a point they couldn't control their magic, let alone make rational decisions.

"You're coming with us," Zev says, not asks.

I pop my hands on my hips. "You don't give me orders."

"We do," Jagger says. "Actually."

Zev nods. "We're your captors, remember? Delivering you to the Collector."

My chest clenches. The way he says that it's almost like he suspects I've been letting them keep me all along. But if they really knew my plans, would they try and stop me?

I push past Zev, lightly stroking Rain's neck as I move forward, hoping my compliance will distract them.

When Rain is the only one to follow me, I glance over my shoulder. "Well? Are you two coming or not?"

Jagger laughs, and Zev grunts before they follow me, Zev moving ahead to retake the lead as we press up the hill.

Three days on the road, and it's nightfall by the time we reach the plateau in the highlands where the Drifter Academy is nestled atop a brutally chilly mountain. The moon is bright enough that the castle I've only ever read or heard about comes into view once we clear the forest.

The travel weariness does nothing to stop my awe as I look at the castle.

The stonework is intricate, with tiers and rows of interlaced rock, spiraling and climbing to create the largest structure I've ever seen. Golden lights flicker from the windows carved into stone, illuminating hundreds of levels until the cover of the low-hanging clouds swallows it up.

"Impressed, little tress?" Zev asks, and I blink out of my awestruck stare.

"Who wouldn't be affected by its sight?"

Jagger shrugs. "When you grow up here, it loses its appeal."

I consider that as we keep moving, walking up a rough, pebbled path until we reach a long bridge that connects the plateau with the Academy.

"Will it hold him?" I ask, stomach twisting as I pet Rain, eying the massive amount of nothing beneath the bridge that sways on tightly wound ropes. Nothing but sky and clouds and wind.

Zev pats Rain's hip. "It'll hold."

I breathe out a sigh of relief as Zev turns to Jagger. "A thousand-foot drop into darkness and she's worried about the horse."

Jagger laughs, urging Rain ahead.

Despite his assurance, I still hold my breath as the horse steps onto the wooden planks, his hooves clopping along as he moves forward like he's made the walk a hundred times.

"You must've dragged him back and forth over this bridge so many times," I say to Zev, who walks behind me as I slowly follow Jagger and the horse.

"He was less afraid on his first time than Jagger," Zev answers.

"You almost pissed your leathers, too!" Jagger fires back.

Zev almost laughs, a half grunt sound that definitely has some amusement drenching it as he sticks close enough behind me that he blocks most of the wind as I cling to the ropes a little tighter than necessary.

I glance over the side as we walk.

A terrible idea.

My head swims, my mind alerting me to every possible way to die here, the least of which is falling. This is a tight spot, one crafted especially to make an opponent vulnerable. It would be impossible to defend myself, if either of them decided to attack, or any guards posted on the other side.

My hackles rise and anxiety claws up my throat.

You're okay , the gold script flutters over my arm, and I read it and focus on the relief barreling down our connection to distract myself as we continue to make our way across the bridge that sways in the night.

I'm okay , I write back. It's the first thing he's asked me every day ever since our connection restored after the attack.

Are you ready to tell me what in the fuck happened the other night? I could feel you, your fear, and then nothing. I couldn't lock on you to find you.

I hadn't told him everything, too overwhelmed with the new situation with Zev and Jagger and getting closer to Lingate.

Don't , I write back quickly. Don't come find me. I'm fine , I send a wave of assurance down the bond.

You were not fine , he writes back, and I can feel how angry he is.

Shit. I didn't want to make him worry.

I ran into a crowd that didn't like me much, but my companions helped me and we escaped as quickly as we could. I promise, I'm okay.

And I am, in a sense.

I'm still on a path that leads to death, but I'm alive for now.

I'm…I can't stay away from you much longer , he writes back. I'm respecting your boundaries as much as I can, but I thought I'd lost you. The things I did…the things I'll do if you're harmed…

I bite my bottom lip, feeling the jagged sense of worry from him.

Shit, it feels desperate.

This isn't fair. The way I've bonded with him despite not committing fully to our Matched pairing. Goddess, I've hurt him without even trying.

I need to tell him the truth. About my plans, about why I won't be around long enough to complete our bond.

Later. Hanging by ropes and loosely tied-together planks atop a mountain isn't the best time to concentrate.

I'll explain everything to you soon, Six. I promise. I'm just…now isn't a good time .

I'll wait for you, my Matched, he writes back. But only so long .

I need a week, I say. Please. Don't try to find me until after I've explained everything. For your sake and mine.

A week and we'll be in Lingate.

I'll tell him everything before I meet my fate in the Collector's Keep.

A week it is then.

I feel him slam something over our connection, the sensation so sudden I gasp. I can't feel him anymore, and panic wells inside me.

"Are you all right?" Jagger asks as he helps me over the last plank and onto thankfully solid earth.

I nod, unable to fully answer.

Six shut me out. He's done so in the past, explaining there are times during his day when getting a message from me would be counterproductive to his endeavors, but never like this. Never with him feeling so desperate, so worried and even a little angry.

"Cold," I finally answer Jagger's concerned gaze. My teeth are chattering, and I'm struggling for breath in the mountain air.

"We're high up," he says. "Very high up." He tucks me under his arm. "I'd say you get used to the thin air, but we won't be here long enough for you to properly acclimate." He turns me toward the base of the castle, nestled only a few feet away from the bridge.

A massive wooden door is wrought with iron, illuminated by burning torches that crackle in the late night. Zev tugs on Rain, smoothing his hand over his head before muttering, "you know where to go." The horse snorts and then trots off the opposite direction, hopefully to a stable where he'll be fed.

After watching Rain trot away, Zev walks to the main door, laying one hand on the wood, the other clutching his necklace. He closes his eyes, speaking some low words in a language I can't understand. A bright white light bursts from his fingers, singing the wood for a moment before it clears.

Zev opens his eyes, turning to look at me.

They're black, no sign of the gold anywhere.

The door groans open, light flooding us, the sounds of a brawl happening just inside.

"Welcome to the Drifter Academy."

I blink to adjust to the bright lights from the flames hanging from sconces along the stone walls or flickering on steel chandeliers hanging in the wide-open entryway.

Sticking close behind Zev and Jagger, I follow them deeper into the castle, the boisterous sounds getting louder the farther in we go. They lead me through a few stone hallways, turning left then right and right again before we end up in what looks like a giant dining hall.

Half a dozen jagged wooden tables sit in two rows, taking up the centermost portion of the room, a small raised dais at the focal point with another table and seven drifters sitting behind it, drinking and watching the loud brawl happening in the middle of the room between the tables.

It's a four on three fight, with the other two dozen or so drifters hollering and chanting on either side as they watch the chaos. The stone floor is littered with chicken bones, some grilled root vegetable and spilled mead around the fighters.

Zev and Jagger don't seem surprised or phased at all as they spare only a glance at the commotion, heading past them and straight to the dais.

An elderly female sits in the middle, flanked on either side by three equally mature looking males. Each one of them wears a drifter necklace, along with the custom leathers and vest combination that is signature for their kind.

"Lugene," Jagger says, dipping his head a little as he draws the female's attention.

Zev does the same bow, and I consider it, but think better of it. Drifters are a tight-knit clan that I won't even pretend to know the customs of. Better to do nothing than offend them. Especially when I'm the type of creature they usually hunt in the night.

My senses prickle with this thought, and I silently thank Aletha that I'm fully fed and energized tonight. I know they said it's forbidden in the academy to try and take me, but I can't help but stay alert. Still, I doubt Zev and Jagger would allow any of their drifter friends to try and claim their bounty as their own, but they're only two males, after all.

Two powerful, incredibly irresistible males, but just two all the same. There are at least thirty drifters in here—male and female alike—and this is only one room in the massive Academy. Who knows how many are in training or asleep throughout the place?

"Jagger," Lugene says, offering him what I can only assume is a smile. Her full lips are in a sharp line, but her rich brown eyes light up when she spots him and Zev. She pushes back some of her long silver hair, glancing behind them to me. "What are you two up to now?"

Zev shifts his weight, his muscles bunching beneath the fabric of his leathers as he reaches into his satchel, pulling out six blood-stained necklaces.

The move has the room falling silent, and even the brawlers have gone still.

Lugene scoots back from the table, her brow furrowed as she makes her way around it and down the steps to where we stand. She takes the necklaces from Zev, sniffing them before her lips curl.

"Balan and his crew?" she asks.

Zev nods.

"By your hand?"

"And mine," Jagger offers.

I'm only slightly sad I can't offer my inclusion as well. I would've loved to have torn into those drifters, but the damn silver had rendered me useless. Still, I wouldn't trade the memory of Zev's hand punching through Balan's chest for anything else in the world.

Lugene tilts her head, eying me again. She nods to the end of a table on the main floor, a few of its benches vacant. "Come," she says, heading that direction. "Let's talk."

A soft hum of chatter returns, the silent bubble broken as we follow her and take a seat at the table. Zev sits next to Lugene on one side, and Jagger sits with me on the other. The rest of the drifters in the room go back to eating and drinking and talking. Thankfully not fighting, since it's distracting to no end.

"I held no love for Balan," Lugene opens up the conversation. "But this…" She lays the necklaces down on the table between us. "What could've merited this?"

Shame slithers beneath my skin.

Me.

They killed them because of me.

They deserved it, but I can't help feeling guilty that they'd had to draw blades against their own kind.

"Balan and his crew stole from us," Jagger answers.

"A bounty," she says, pointing to me.

"Yes," Zev answers.

Her brow pinches together, but there is amusement in her eyes. "That isn't exactly unheard of around here," she says. "You've stolen before. So has every drifter here."

A muscle in Zev's jaw flexes. "They took what is ours," he says.

"And broke almost every code in the book with what they did to her," Jagger adds.

A warm flush races over my skin, a sense of comfort washing over me at their defense. The feeling fades as Lugene turns those keen eyes on me, studying me.

"They touch you?"

I nod.

She hisses.

"And poisoned her."

"Bastards." She shakes her head, looking like she wants to spit on the necklaces. "Good of you to put an end to it," she says. "I'll give these back to the mountain for you." She pockets the bloody necklaces, then flashes me a sympathetic look. "I can't say the Collector will treat a succubus any better than they did." Her eyes dart between the two males. "Unless you're not taking her there now?"

They both glance at me.

Zev sighs, low and frustrated. "It's complicated."

"Uh huh," she says before turning to me. "Since these two don't have any sense of manners, I'll introduce myself. I'm Lugene Kittelfurth, leader of the Drifter Academy for the past seventy-five years. And you are?"

"Livana," I answer.

"That's it?"

"That's all there is to tell." I haven't been able to remember my surname since I was a youngling.

"I highly doubt that, girl," she says, but there's affection in her tone. "But fair enough." She jerks her head to the side, where a bunch of drifters sit, growing louder in their conversation. "We all have secrets here." She looks to Zev and Jagger. "Get the girl some food and mead, won't you?"

Jagger laughs softly, rising from the table and stopping to plant a kiss on her forehead before heading off.

"I'm telling you it has to end at some point," a female drifter at the connecting table says, drawing Lugene's attention.

"I'm telling you it will never end," a male drifter snaps before chugging a stein of mead. "All your insufferable prattling won't make a difference."

The female slams her fist on the table. "It's not just me and you know it. There are hundreds of us in this academy alone who believe it. Who knows how many are out there until we go and look ."

"Corshna," Lugene whispers to me, reading my confused look. "She's a passionate one. Wants to make a change."

"You make waves, be prepared to drown," the male says.

Lugene leans closer to me over the table. "Dornite," she says. "A realist who fears change."

"Better to drown than continue on as we are. You've read the histories as much as I. At least when the continent was ruled by the Four Families of Old, there were choices. Votes and discussions and choices. And they didn't use us to ensnare or kill innocent creatures. There weren't so many restrictions. If we stay this course, it won't just be our culture that dies. It will be any culture beyond what the Collector deems respectful."

My eyebrows raise. I'm not used to hearing such an open discussion about the likes and dislikes of the Collector, but I immediately decide I like Corshna.

The drifters behind Corshna chime in, their voices rising with each rebuttal from Dornite's side.

Ah, so this was the brawl when we walked in. They'd merely paused the physical portion of it.

"It doesn't matter what I would want!" Dornite fires back at something a male drifter says. "What matters is what is . Thanks to the Collector's nearly unkillable shifted form and his extensive armies, he's irradicated species in single blows or driven them into submission or absolute hiding. There is no going up against him."

"If there are more who believe in change than there are who cower from it, then yes , there is a chance."

"You're living in a fairy tale," he says, shaking his head. "You would have us all burn in the palace pyres while chasing it down."

"I would have us fight," she snaps, and half the room sounds their agreement. "I would have us stand up for those who can't. Stand up for a world where we're not ordered around like dogs fetching bones. A world where any creature can be their true self in the open without fear of ridicule."

Dornite and his side gape at her. "You would die. The Collector, his son, and his Treasure are a trio with insurmountable powers."

"Coward."

"I don't play games I can't win. And The Collector is an unstoppable piece in a losing game."

"What if he wasn't on the game board?" I ask before I can stop myself.

Zev snaps his gaze to me so quickly I swear I feel it like a physical blow.

I ignore his warning stare.

The drifters go silent, turning to look at me curiously.

Dornite is the first to laugh, followed by those on his side. "That's never going to happen," he says. "No one ever gets close to him save for his Treasure, the fucking sadistic prince, or his Collected." He looks me up and down, tilting his head. "Who the fuck are you anyway?"

"Livana," I say, looking to Corshna. Something like hope fills my chest, stretching in a way that is unfamiliar. The idea that there are good, strong, capable beings who want change as much as I do makes me hope for a future beyond my mission.

After I take out the Collector, there could be a movement to change things for the better, even if I'm apprehended and executed in the process.

"Well, Livana," Dornite drags out my name. "You're as fucking mad as her." He jabs his thumb toward Corshna.

I offer a smile to Corshna and she returns it.

"What do you have in mind?" Corshna asks.

Zev's hand flexes into a fist on the table, but I ignore his look of shock.

"Hypothetically," I say as Jagger returns to the table, setting down plates of food and drinks and looking terribly out of the loop. "What if one of his Collected did the job?"

Corshna's shoulders drop, and Dornite laughs again. "That would be wonderful," she says, shaking her head. "But that hasn't happened. He breaks who he collects. There's no way any of them would turn against him."

"But if one did?" I ask. "What would happen next? What would your next move be?"

She considers, her blue eyes churning. "There are circles," she says. "That may or may not be organizing even as we speak. Those circles move the second they got wind of the Collector's death. They would have to take out the Treasure and the prince at the same time, then the guards who refuse to switch their loyalties. There would need to be a vote on who would take the Collector's place…" Her voice trails off. "All hypothetical."

"Of course," I say, that hope growing more and more. I can see her plans, see the passion behind them. She wants it. And there are more like her. If there were enough of us…

"Why?" Corshna asks. "Do you somehow have contact with a Collected?"

"No," I answer, and Dornite waves his hand to me like see, never going to happen . "But who says I can't allow myself to be Collected?" I let my fangs punch out, baring them. There are a few gasps, but Corshna is downright giddy.

Zev and Jagger look up at me with equal shock and then realization, as if finally the pieces are clicking into place. Why I let the keep me, why I didn't fight their capture harder. I feel a jab of remorse at keeping this from them after everything we've been through, but I have to swallow it down. I can't apologize now with half the room staring at me.

"You're serious?" she asks, then glances down to where Zev still sits, glowering as he tears into the food Jagger brought us. "This is your bounty?"

"Yes," he growls.

"And you let her fill your head with these ridiculous ideas?" Dornite accuses. "She's beautiful, but think with something other than your cock, Zev."

Zev gives a warning glare that has Dornite settling back in his seat.

"What happens if you fail?" Corshna asks.

"I won't fail."

"You might," she says, shrugging. "You think no Collected have ever thought about killing him before? They have. But that's before he breaks them. Whatever goes on in his keep…"

"You're not wrong," I respond. "But I'm determined. And I don't think anyone has ever allowed themselves to be caught before. I'm prepared to carry this out or die trying."

"I like you," she says, wagging a finger at me. "You've got spirit." She raises her stein, and I scoop up the one Jagger brought me, reaching over the length of table to clink it against hers.

We drink in some sort of silent agreement, but it feels the closest to progress that I've ever been.

"Okay, succubus," she says. "If you succeed, we'll make sure it's not in vain."

"Good," I say, and sit back down, the crowd settling around us and descending into conversations that revolve around more what-ifs, like passionate conversations fueled by copious amounts of mead can do. Maybe it's all boastful wishing on Corshna's part, maybe there are no circles across the continent waiting for a chance to rebel, but there's a thread of hope that can't be denied filtering throughout the room.

"Thank you for this," I say to Jagger, who watches me eat the plate of meat and fruit with concerned eyes.

"It all makes sense now," he whispers, almost like he's speaking to himself.

"Well," Lugene says, nodding to Jagger and Zev. "If anything, your bounty has certainly made things more interesting tonight." She pats Zev on the back, then rises from the table, wandering around the room to chat with one group of drifters or another.

"Your plan won't work," Zev says, his voice riddled with agitation.

"I didn't say I had a plan," I fire back. "But why do you say that?" I ask because I can't help myself.

His golden eyes are searing when they meet mine. "The assassination of the Collector will take more than just one being. It will take multiple beings working together for it even to have a slim chance at success."

"And?"

"And you don't trust anyone," he snaps, pushing away from the table and stomping from the room.

I follow him, Jagger close on my heels, until Zev finally stops in a room that is drenched in his scent. I assume it's the quarters he uses when he travels here as Jagger closes the door behind us.

"You trust no one," he says again, anger lacing his tone. "Even those who take care of you." He eyes Jagger. "You didn't tell us. After everything…you didn't bother to tell us."

"I have my reasons," I say, my chest aching. "Don't you think I'd love to trust someone? To have someone I can depend on?"

I think of Six, think of my Matched and how he would likely be that someone. I look at Jagger, then at Zev, my heart bursting with attachment. They've cared for me more than anyone before…could I trust them? If it came down to my life in their hands, could I trust them to never betray me?

No, because at the end of it, I'm worth something to them for very different reasons. Zev needs something from the Collector that far outweighs any connection we've formed. And that's fair.

"We understand," Jagger says, his voice soft and soothing. "You have more reason than most to be wary of everyone."

I give him a grateful look, then return focus to Zev. "You don't need to be a part of this," I say. "Hand me over to Corshna," I offer, and he narrows his gaze at me. "She'll gladly turn me in to the Collector and you won't have to deal with me?—"

"You're mine," he cuts me off, enveloping my space, making me shiver. "My bounty. Ours." He glances to Jagger, who is behind me.

The energy crackles between the three of us in a way that makes the breath tight in my lungs and need pulse over every inch of me. I'm about to reach out and smooth my hands over his chest when a burst of warmth flutters across my forearm.

I move to hide my arm, but Zev grabs my wrist, examining the gold script.

"I knew I'd seen that before," Jagger says, the two of them reading what Six wrote.

I don't like the way we left things.

I snatch my arm back.

"You're Matched?" Zev asks.

"I've never met him," I answer. "But yes, he's my Matched."

"Why haven't you completed the bond yet?" Jagger asks. "Matched are rare, fated?—"

"I know that," I cut him off. "I can't."

"Why—"

"Because she's not planning on living long enough to complete that bond," Zev answers for me.

I swallow hard, using the moment of silence to write back to Six.

I don't either. I'm sorry, Six. I didn't mean to cause you so much worry. I promise, I'll tell you everything soon.

Jagger blows out a breath, and the tension in the room mounts. I can't argue with Zev or deny his claims. Anyone who thinks they can kill the Collector and survive is dreaming. At least I'm a realist.

"It's a good thing I'm not the jealous type," Jagger says, trailing his finger over the fading gold script along my arm. The touch sends waves of heat crashing through me. "Is he?"

I shake my head. "I've told him about you," I say, then my eyes flutter to Zev. "And you."

Zev's tight lips twitch into an almost smile. "Well, little tress, at least we don't have to fear your Matched hunting us down in our sleep."

"A small relief," I say. "I'm sure."