23. Livana

Chapter 23

Livana

" G o over it one more time," Zev says from behind me as we clear the border of Lingate, holding my chained wrists behind my back.

"I'm not going over the plan again," I say under my breath, doing my best to look like a drifter captive. "We've gone over it a dozen times."

"I want to hear it one more time," he says into my ear, a note of desperation there that cracks me wide open.

"You will usher me into the palace as your bounty, demand to speak with the Collector regarding your conditional trade. Jagger will remove my silver chains, and I'll focus as much power as I can on the main threats in the room."

Because there is no guarantee the prince and the Treasure will be with the Collector when we meet. And if we're really unlucky, the Collector will deny Zev and Jagger an audience, and I'll be tossed into a cell instead. In that case, I'll have to wait until the Collector comes to see his new pet, and then make my move. The only advantage we have right now is the fact that no one knows what I really am. That being a succubus is rare enough that he'll want to collect me either way.

"Good," Zev says. "And if option two has to happen?"

I do my best not to roll my eyes, but he really is being a stickler. We've gone over this so many times. "I'll become the perfect little pet."

A low growl rumbles in Zev's chest, and Jagger chuckles softly at my side, dagger at the ready in case his bounty gets out of hand.

Zev leans down closer to my ear. "You are no one's pet."

The intensity in his voice sends warm shivers down my spine, and it does little to quell the adrenaline racing through my blood.

We weave through the main streets of Lingate, and I do my best not to be awestruck by the amount of wealth that lines their streets. There are jewel-encrusted buildings, and vendors on every corner selling luxuries like stuffed pastries and sparkling white wine.

I'd heard Destowne was wealthy, but this?

This makes me angry. Especially when there are people in nearby villages who are starving . One slab of jewel encrusted stone from this street would feed an entire town for a month, and yet there are entire structures dedicated to showing off art or storing more jewels for wealthy people to buy and wear around their necks and on their hands.

And oh, how these wealthy people, mostly mortals or quarter-bloods who hang on every word the Collector says, look at me. Even the way they look at the drifters has an air of disgust to it. As if we three are beneath them.

I wonder how they'll take it when they find out I've severed their precious Collector's head from his shoulders? I wonder if they'll use their paper money and silk clothes to lap up all their tears?

I lose just a bit of my confident swagger as we stop in front of the gilded gates before the Collector Keep's walls. The core at the palace gates recognize Zev and Jagger, waving us in. The gates slowly open, and Zev shoves me a little hard for show, pushing me farther inside so the gates can close again.

My normal snark doesn't reach my tongue, not when I'm completely taken aback by the beauty of the palace. I can't deny it—the stonework, the architecture—it's a magnificent and massive structure that screams wealth and power and beauty.

Lush gardens and fountains surround the grounds that go on forever, and there are many collector core marching around the perimeters as if that is their sole purpose in life. There are a few nobles scattered around the gardens, and even more as we make our way up the stairs and toward the entrance doors.

People in their finest clothes linger in a grand ballroom just off the entryway, and I recognize the space that Jagger described as a place where the Collector's court gathers and gossips and gorges themselves on delicacies while waiting for a glimpse of him or the prince or the Treasure.

It's pathetic, the sight of them all chatting and lounging about, their life of luxury provided by fear mongering and a cruel hand. And they worship him for it?

They guide us past that ballroom, and down a few hallways, each one more ornately decorated than the first, until we make it to a room that is guarded by two collector core.

"We can take over the process of collection," the first one says, eyeing me. "You two can collect your gold at the treasury?—"

"You will not be taking over collection," Jagger cuts the core off, his voice lilting just enough in a singsong tone that I can tell he's using his powers. "We will deliver this one to the Collector himself. To speak on a trade that was previously discussed."

The guards seem to consider this for a moment before shrugging and opening the door, ushering us inside another grand room, but much smaller than the ballroom.

It's empty, save for some lush furniture that rests on a raised dais, no doubt for the Collector and his son and the Treasure to be able to look down on everyone.

"Wait here," the collector core says in a monotone voice before slamming the door behind us.

My heart races, and I will it to not take off in the wrong direction. Trying my best to hold on to my power even as the silver chain around my wrists cuts into it.

It isn't as thick as the ones the Balan and his drifters used when they captured me, and thank fuck there isn't an ounce of liquid silver in my blood, but it still hurts . It feels like my wrists are encased in a rope of fire, one that has the sole purpose of draining the life out of me. It's taken everything I can do to not cry out, but I draw on the strength radiating down my Linked bonds to smother it.

"Something doesn't feel right," Zev says so low only the two of us can hear it.

"That was rather easy," Jagger agrees.

"Is it usually more difficult than this?" I whisper, barely moving my lips in case there's someone watching that we can't see.

"Not exactly," Zev says, his golden eyes surveying the room. There are no windows, and there's only one exit behind us.

"Maybe you're seeing things that aren't there," I whisper, doing my best to discredit his unease. Perhaps it's fabricated because he's an active part of a rebellious act, but either way, my nerves are on edge. The longer they make us wait, the longer these chains will be on my skin, and the less power I'll have.

My knees begin to shake from the weight of it after waiting so long when the door behind us finally opens. Zev jerks me to his side unceremoniously as the Collector himself waltzes into the room, barely sparing me a glance as he bounds up to the dais and takes the cushioned chair in the center.

He wears a cloak of red and black, and he's thick around the middle. I can feel his power buzzing off of him, like he might shift into his terrible beast at any moment and swallow us all whole. More collector core spill into the room, a dozen splitting off the middle aisle and each taking a side either direction of it.

I look to Zev and Jagger to see if this is all normal, but they have fully committed to their drifter roles, their faces masks of calm and indifferent. Bounty hunters waiting for their reward.

The last person walks in, slamming the door behind him hard enough to shake the entire room.

I suck in a sharp breath, feeling the ice-cold power that radiates off of the prince as he slowly walks down the middle of the room.

He stops before us, turning to look us over.

He's tall, his lithe body draped in black, such a contrast to his father's preference of blood-reds. His hair is like a raven's feathers shaping his face, his eyes a glowing silver, cold and unforgiving. He's emotionless as he looks us over, his eyes lingering on me and trailing the length of my body.

Adrenaline crackles in my blood, my power begging to be unleashed, begging to slice his throat as he stands there looking down his nose at me.

He tilts his head slightly, as if he heard a noise somewhere that piqued his interest. That quickly, the intrigue look is gone, replaced by an icy maliciousness that looks like he might have fun killing every single one of us in this room just because he's bored.

"Gray," the Collector says in a commanding tone from where he sits on his throne.

The prince blinks a few times, finally taking his eyes off of me and moving to stand at his father's right.

The Collector points at Zev and ushers him forward. "You finally have something worth trading?"

Zev nods and shoves me forward, pushing me over and over again until I hiss and stumble to my knees at the bottom of the dais.

"Something you've been wanting for quite some time," Zev answers.

"Well, go on then," the Collector says, looking like we've interrupted something important in his day. "Show me what she is."

I'm surprised that he can't tell already, that he isn't using that enormous wealth of power to sniff out what truly I am. Perhaps after decades of having people wait on him hand and foot, and never being challenged, he's grown lazy.

Jagger grips my hair, yanking my head back hard enough that my fangs bare.

The Collector scoots to the edge of his seat, absolute delight rippling over his features as he smiles down at me. His son doesn't smile, but he descends a couple steps down the dais, eyes wide.

"Would you look at that, Gray?" The Collector says to his son. "How long have you been searching for one of these by yourself? A year?" The Collector laughs. "I told you, you should have used the drifters. They're quite useful creatures. Look," he says, motioning down to me. "I didn't even have to ask for a succubus, they simply delivered her."

I furrow my brow, unable to stop myself from looking up at the prince, wondering what he could possibly want a succubus for and why he wouldn't have been able to locate one himself.

"Our agreement," Zev says to the Collector, bringing the attention back to him. "This creature is rare enough that it should secure our trade, correct?"

If I couldn't feel him through our Linked bond, couldn't feel his emotions and his apology for how he's holding me, I would swear he was betraying me. He's so damn convincing. Him and Jagger both.

"I don't know if that trade is in the cards for you anymore," the Collector says, and I can feel panic slice down our bond. You would never know it on the surface though, the drifter keeping his cool as he tilts his head in a predatory way.

"This succubus is worth five times what I'm asking," he says, and I can't help but wonder what he needs, what he has yet to trust me with.

"Perhaps," the Collector says, waving at his son. "But he's the one who wanted a succubus more than me." He gives me another considering look. "I must say though, she looks like she has potential. She could be quite striking if cleaned up a bit."

Disgust rolls through me, his eyes on my body as if he's seeing something else entirely. I'm draped in quite a bit of ripped and tattered clothes, no doubt with dirt on my face and grass in my hair. I wanted to make sure I looked like I fought every single step of the way here.

Zev closes his hand over my throat, lifting me to my feet before trailing a fingertip down the center of my cleavage. In any other setting the touch would be welcome and I'd be ready to sink my fangs into him, but I know it's the signal.

It's almost time.

"You should see what's underneath these," Zev says in a voice that's so unlike him it's almost comical. "She's got a sharp bite, but if you chain her up with silver, I know she'll give you a good time."

The Collector rises from his seat, walking down the steps like he can't help but take a closer look. He cuts his eyes to Jagger and Zev. "Did you two have your way with her?"

I try to cast my gaze to the side, looking meager and meek upon the Collector's inspection. I catch the prince's eyes in that moment, and a bolt of shock slams through me to find him staring at me.

He's looking at me like I'm a puzzle he needs to solve.

I do my best to look weak.

"No, of course not," Jagger and Zev answer at the same time.

The Collector looks like he doesn't believe them, so Zev continues. "You know what I want. You know how important it is to me. I wouldn't risk damaging your collection."

"Besides," Jagger adds, shoving me another inch forward closer to the Collector, his hand falling to my wrist. "She's made it clear she'll bite anyone who gets too close," he continues, his fingers working over the chain in such a subtle way that no one notices he's undoing them.

The Collector laughs, the sound shrill and grating on my nerves as he puts a finger underneath my chin to make me meet his eyes. "Is that true? You like it rough?"

Revulsion and adrenaline slam together, especially as I feel the silver slip from my wrists and into Jagger's pocket. I don't dare move, not wanting to give away our ruse so quickly.

I bare my fangs, my heart pounding as I study him. Study the male who took everything from me.

His smile widens, seeing something in my eyes that he obviously likes .

He's going to like it a lot less when he dies with that smile on his lips.

Power gathers beneath my skin, a maelstrom combination of mine and Jagger's and Zev's, their power pulsing into mine, fueling it.

I take a deep breath, sparing one moment to think about Six, to wonder if he ever received my message and if he'll ever forgive me. Sparing a second to think about what death will feel like.

I move, bringing my hands before me as I gather the green magic that represents my power, balling it up and splitting it to aim it at the two?—

Jagger's startled cry makes me snap my head to the left.

The point of a sword sticks through his chest, a core wielding it from the back. Searing, white-hot heat slices into our bond.

" Liv ," he whispers, blood splattering as he speaks my name and slams to his knees on the floor as the core rips the sword out the back.

Zev is an animal in his own right, fighting off the core who snuck up on us as I gathered my power. They have him on the ground, beating him over and over with spiked batons, his blood splattering over the marble floor, his garbled screams telling me to run .

"Drop that power," the Collector says in a calm voice, drawing my attention back to him. He nods toward the green crackling light in my hand. "Or these two will die."

Jagger looks close to death, but Zev is still fighting, no doubt he'll keep fighting even until they've taken his life.

"Now, little one," the Collector demands. "Only my Treasure has the power to heal wounds that catastrophic."

I don't hesitate.

I let that power seep back into my body, swallowing it down knowing I cannot and will not be the reason they die.

The Collector nods toward his core, and the dozen of them drag a now unconscious Zev and Jagger out of the room.

My heart is racing so hard in my chest it hurts . I'm shaking, my power slicing through my veins, begging to lash out. I can do it. I can kill him and his son both right now, but then they'd kill my Linked.

"Stupid drifters," the Collector says, tipping his chin up as he surveys me. "Did they think they could waltz a tress through my gates and I wouldn't immediately know?"

My heart plummets into my stomach. Fuck .

"Gray," the Collector says after studying me a moment. "You know what to do."

The prince dips his head toward his father before stepping in front of me, blocking out everything in my vision. He grips my arm, and I fight his hold, trying to pries his hand off of me, but it's no use. The bastard is strong.

"Get your hands off of me," I say as he drags me toward the door.

The Collector laughs, the sound booming behind us as the prince ignores me.

I dig my heels in, hissing and fighting and clawing at him.

He lets out a heavy sigh, jerking me to face him, his silver eyes looking like liquid smoke as he raises one hand toward my face.

I glare at him, waiting for him to backhand me, but he waves it an inch in front of my eyes. A flash of heat snaps through my mind that severs all ties to consciousness.