28. Livana

Chapter 28

Livana

" Y ou chose the black," Gray says as he sweeps into my room, his dark eyes trailing the length of the elaborate gown that I wear.

I take a step toward him, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. "You left two gowns in my wardrobe, one with your father's colors and the other..." I look him up and down, noting the details of yet another luxurious all-black outfit.

I'm testing him, trying to see if my assumptions are correct about the competition between him and his father being the main motivator for him lying to him and telling him that he'd broken me. If it were true, I can use it to my advantage tonight.

"Should I change?" I ask.

Gray steps closer to me, his signature scent wafting over me in a smell that has become all too familiar over the past few weeks. "No," he says, looking over me. "I prefer you in black."

I move past him and into the bathing chamber. "I just need to check one last thing." Mercifully, he allows me the moment of privacy, and I take a long look in the mirror.

I hate that Zev and Jagger hang in the balance of my decisions. But they know just as well as I do that tonight is the perfect opportunity—our last opportunity—to strike.

The Collector's guard will be down because he will be schmoozing with the noblemen whose armies he needs in order to complete another Great Purge. Perhaps they'll even be drunk, which would be an added bonus. Maybe even Gray will partake, but I doubt it. He doesn't seem like the jovial type or one to let go of that rigid control he holds on to so tightly.

No, I'll have to focus my efforts on the Collector. And the Treasure. It'll be the first night that I'll be in close proximity to both of them, and despite not knowing what I'm up against with the Treasure, if I can catch them both with their guard down, it'll be enough. Once I have the bracelets off…it'll be enough.

And perhaps seeing two of the strongest leaders on the continent being wiped out right in front of their eyes might make them question ever allowing anything like a Great Purge to happen again. And even if it doesn't, Corshna's drifter armies will help lead the cause after. Which will be much easier without the Collector and the Treasure rallying the other side.

My heart aches, wondering what the fate of my Linked will be, and as always, my thoughts drift to Six.

He's never written me back. But I knew to expect as much. And I can't even blame him. I kept the most important parts of myself hidden from him, but still there are pieces of me that yearn for him.

His comforting words, his teasing notes, his constant presence. I've tried more than once to reach out through that bond of ours, tried to bang against that silver door he slammed over it, but there was no response.

At least if I die tonight, I will know that I gave him my heart in the best way that I could. By trusting him with the truth. It was his decision on what to do with that truth.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, sending one more message down that matched bond, picturing it slipping beneath the small, almost imperceptible cracks in that silver door in the hopes of it reaching him.

I miss you. And I hope you find happiness.

I open my eyes and head out of the bathing chamber. Gray is tugging impatiently on his shirtsleeve, shifting his weight, no doubt irritated with me lingering too long.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice softer than I've ever heard it before.

"Yes," I say. "Tell me, Gray," I say as we walk toward my door, pausing before he opens it. "What role would you like me to play tonight? Shall I keep up the facade that you've broken me?"

He visibly swallows. "I need you to play your part so well that even you believe it," he says finally, swinging open the door and guiding us through it.

"Is that how you break your Collected?" I ask as we walk.

He doesn't answer, and I school my features into a submissive mask as he leads me into a grand ballroom filled with tons of royalty, the people of the Collector's royal court spread among every inch of available space.

Tables are lined with gold and jewel-encrusted goblets, each filled with sparkling wine, trays of every delicacy available next to them. Music plays from bards set up in the corner, even their instruments scream wealth.

It's an overwhelming scene, especially because I know I don't belong here. But I do my best to look listless, like I'm nothing more than a broken-down succubus, letting her owner tug her along as he ignores everyone's attempt to speak to him.

It's my only way of distracting myself. Especially as more and more wealthy young females flit into his path to draw his attention, some going so far as to put a hand on his chest and stop him to say hello. One female is doing so now, and he looks down at her hand like he might sever it if she doesn't move.

"Apologies, Prince Gray," she says, showing intelligence by removing her hand from him. "I just had to come over and say hello. It's been ages since we last spoke." Her eyes dance between him and me and back again. "Perhaps you can save me another dance?" she asks. "Like last time?"

I never pictured Gray as a dancer, and the surprise must show on my face because the female looks at me like she's just bitten into a rotten apple. She's quite the beauty, with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes, wearing a blood-red gown that shows off her impeccable body. The two absolutely look like a match. Her severity would complement his, but he doesn't so much as answer her beyond that of a shake of his head and guiding me around her like she's no more than a piece of furniture he needed to avoid.

"You dance?" I ask, my tone a whisper between us.

"When I must," he says, scanning the room and the faces in it, as if looking for danger at every turn.

I suppose that tracks for a prince of a tyrant that some people love and some people secretly hate.

"I love to dance," I say before I can think of better of it.

"I know," he says, blinking out of his study of the room and dropping his eyes to me. "I mean you look like someone who loves to dance," he continues.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, tilting my head.

He shakes his head, the line of his jaw going taut as he continues to scan the room. Such a shame he can't see the true threat is literally dangling off of his arm.

I look down between us where my arm is looped dutifully through his, my eyes snagging on the black jeweled ring he never removes on his pinky. No doubt some prize for being born a male heir to his father, or perhaps his mother who died shortly after giving birth to him.

The music and chatter quiets almost as if it was a timed event, the Collector sweeping into the room on the opposite side from where we stand, climbing up the dais and gesturing to all of his adoring subjects. There has to be more than two hundred of us in this room alone, but I'm not mad about the audience. It will be good for them all to see him perish.

"Thank you all for coming to tonight's esteemed event," he says from his spot on the dais. He wears elaborate robes of red and black, all manner of jewels on every finger and around his neck and in his ears. He's dripping in wealth that could save half the continent and yet he's only wearing it as a show of power.

"As you all know, my council and I have decided that in response to recent threats against the crown and our noble cities—mostly from the Fae I allowed to live two decades ago—it's time to push back with force. We're hoping it won't result in another bloody war, but if the pushback is enough, we won't hesitate to enforce another Great Purge."

Applause erupts around us, and bile climbs up my throat at the eagerness these people show for the destruction of innocent lives.

He quiets the crowd with a simple wave of his hand. "Our quest for a peaceful world has been something I focused on for many decades now and we're getting closer and closer to achieving that goal. New territories have come into the fold, offering their armies as support, and I would like to take this time to thank them for their generous donation of soldiers right now. Everyone please cheer for the soldiers of Spiderdowns and those of Caelfalls."

More cheers erupt around me, and there are groups of people that bow in acceptance, clearly the representatives of the two territories he mentioned.

Territories I had no idea were supporting him.

We were already at a disadvantage because of the Collector's power, along with his son's and his Treasure's. Not to mention the collector core and the donated armies from those who supported him, but this tips the scales a lot more than I'd anticipated.

I only hope killing the royal family will put us back on even ground again.

The crowd quiets as the Collector waves his hand again. "We are so very close," he says. "My loyal subjects. It is your faith in me, my Treasure, and my son that help us create a better world. We all deserve to live on a continent that is free of fear. Fear of monsters prowling in the night with selfish motivations, ripping our young from their beds and using them as sacrifices in rituals that have long since been abolished. And I know what you may be thinking, that only tresses dabble in such magic and those were eradicated long ago. But that's not the case. The fae, sirens and the phoenixes use that kind of magic too, not to mention the sorcerers that have not come to heel at my side. They've all had two decades to show their allegiance to my cause. They haven't. They must submit to my laws. Only when they do will we be able to usher in a reign of peace that will be unmatched for thousands of years. So, I thank you for your continued loyalty as we embark on this new chapter. It does not go unnoticed."

The crowd erupts in applause, and the Collector signals to the bards to continue with their music as he descends into the crowd to mingle with his subjects.

"Close your mouth," Gray whisper-hisses the command at me, and I immediately pick my jaw up from where it had dropped.

I'm trembling as I try to hold back the adrenaline, at the injustice in his words. At the way he framed cold-blooded murder as the price for peace. He's the one who embodies fear in his subjects, him and his Treasure and his son. They're the ones responsible for the terror throughout the land. Spouting lies and nourishing ignorance.

Fae, sirens, and phoenixes don't use that kind of magic. Neither did the tresses, save for a few.

I breathe in deeply through my nose and out through my mouth, focusing on the physical act of following wherever Gray leads, finding a sense of calm and clarity by the time we've reached the dance floor, where dozens of pairs are whirling around it, all the what little magic I can use is tunneling through these damn silver bracelets.

Gray's puts a hand on my hip and the other in mine as he pushes us into a waltz, spinning us around the floor like we're two normal attendees at the party. No doubt a display of how well his pet behaves. I'm tempted to stomp on his feet just for the fuck of it.

"So this is an occasion that calls for dancing?" I ask as he stiffly moves me around. I swear the male never lets down his guard, which is a real pain in the ass when I keep looking for a weak entry point. He's so damn tall I have to look up at him as we move around, but he's rigid. I never understand people who aren't affected by music the way I am, the melody practically turning my body to liquid.

But not here. I would never give them the satisfaction of seeing me lose myself in a dance the way I would if I was somewhere I felt safe.

"We're about to be accosted again," he says, his eyes doing their best to look anywhere but down at me.

"By one of your many admirers?" I ask. "Honestly, the last one looked perfect for you," I say, and his eyes finally snap down to mine. "Why haven't you chosen a bride yet?"

"Why?" he snaps back. "Because it's my princely duty to do so? To marry a devoting female and pop out as many heirs as I can?" He almost sounds bitter.

"In between collecting different creatures as if they're trinkets offered in some foreign market, yes, I thought that was the gist of being the prince of Lingate."

He shakes his head, looking around the room once again, his jaw tight. "You know nothing," he says.

"You're right," I say. "I know nothing about what it is to be you . To have all the wealth and power at your fingertips and use it to destroy cultures, destroy villages and hope. I actually have a heart and a conscience."

He parts his lips, finally looking down at me, his body vibrating with tension. "Livana," he says my name for the first time, and something inside of me feels… familiar . Like I've dreamed this moment before. "You need to understand?—"

"My turn," the Collector's voice cuts off whatever Gray was about to say as he forces us to a halt, giving Gray a commanding look.

For a moment it looks like Gray might argue, and I silently urge them to, knowing it would be the perfect distraction to allow me to strike.

But then Gray dips his head, releasing me into the arms of his father and moving just off the dance floor but not out of sight, ever watchful as always.

I do my best to look like a hollowed-out object as the Collector takes Gray's place, his hand more firm and repulsive on my hip as he moves us around on the dance floor. He's only a couple inches taller than me, his large belly brushing mine as we move. Revulsion ripples over my skin, and I do my best to swallow back the mouthful of acid that gathers at the back of my jaw.

"You are a good little pet, aren't you?" he asks, twirling me around. "Look at you, practically a little puppet to my string. I knew Gray would do it, he always does."

I dip my head in submission, doing my best to empty my eyes of any emotion. I've almost got these things off.

"I did tell the boy to put you in my colors though," he says, grumbling as we continue to move. "He still has his mother's rebellious streak, despite my Treasure's best attempts to beat it out of him when he was a youngling." The Collector shakes his head, downright rambling. He has such faith that no thought will penetrate my mind too deeply. Goddess, can Gray really brainwash someone with his powers that easily? And if so, why hasn't he done it to me?

"You're going to help me," he says.

"I will do whatever my Collector asks," I say in a monotone voice that nowhere near matches my internal one.

Almost there.

Adrenaline is crackling in my veins as I get closer to dissolving the silver on my skin, my power swirling just beneath the surface. This is my chance. I'll never be this close to him again, never have an opportunity to sink my power into him as easily as this. His guard is completely down, believing me to be a submissive pet as he whirls me around the dance floor among his adoring subjects.

"My Treasure has big plans for you," he says. "She's positively dying to meet you, but I told her that Gray had to break you first. Tonight was your first test and you've passed. You've done nothing to embarrass Gray, and you've ignored all the people you despise so much."

His Treasure is going to be sorely disappointed when her plans don't work out.

"We will turn you into the weapon you were meant to be, making this Great Purge less bloody than the last."

Icy shivers rake over my body at the casual way he talks about wielding me and my power against innocent creatures across the continent.

He smiles at me, nothing but maliciousness in those eyes of his. The song is reaching its crescendo, and I know my window of opportunity is closing.

I pour everything I have into the silver, willing it to bend, break, dissolve.

My heart races in my chest, everything swirling around me in a dizzying sense of detachment.

I send a silent note to Six again, wishing him well. I send nothing but loving feelings down the bonds of my Linked, hoping they can feel it. Hoping that they understand how much I wish I could ensure their safety but unable to lose this opportunity.

My focus narrows to a crystal-clear clarity as the Collector dips me for the end of the song, holding there for a moment.

I move my arms up, as if to wrap them lovingly around his neck just as the silver dissolves on my skin, unleashing my power from its hold. My magic gathers in my palms, surging in a force that will snuff the light out of him in one blow?—

A shock of white-hot lightning streaks through me.

I go rigid within the Collector's arms.

He immediately drops me, and I fall in a heap on the floor.

" Treasure ," the Collector chides in a loving tone, like he's playfully scolding a youngling. "That wasn't very nice. We were only dancing."

My muscles seize from the shock of power that sweeps through me. Goddess, it's strong .

Spikes click against the marble floor, just by my ear before a female draped in a golden gown leans over me, whispering in my ear. "Ah, silly dearest," the Treasurer says. "Didn't I teach you not to touch my things?"