The moon hung at its very peak by the time Kira slipped out of the hall, spilling pale silver light across the palace grounds.

She stopped just past the doors and scanned the open space. Guests loitered here and there in little clusters, drinks in hand, laughter drifting on the night air. The flower hedges stood dark and neat along the paths. Garlands swayed gently in the breeze.

But no Brian.

She moved further out, her eyes sweeping over every shadow, every gap between the tall hedges. She walked a short way down the garden path,

Where did that slimy snake disappear to? she thought, frustration bubbling up. He practically dared me to follow him, and now he’s playing hide and seek? Typical.

She turned to head back toward the hall.

And there he was.

Brian stood directly behind her, hands tucked casually in his pockets. Kira stopped short, her heart lurching.

"Looking for me?" he asked, that smirk firmly in place.

Kira did not give him the satisfaction of a startled step back. She walked straight up to him, chin high, and skipped past every pleasantry.

"What do you want from me? Why did you send me those photographs?"

Brian chuckled, soft and pleased, as though she had said something charming.

"I knew you’d be clever enough to work it out," he said. "That I was the one who sent the photographs. I do so enjoy not having to spell things out."

"Why?" Kira’s voice was hard. "Why are you trying to blackmail me?"

He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning a wound.

"Blackmail? Goddess, no. You wound me, my love. I’m not blackmailing you at all."

His eyes glittered in the moonlight. "I only wanted you to understand something important. That someone is always watching you. Always. You’re never quite as alone as you think you are."

Kira’s skin crawled. "So you’re stalking me."

Brian gave a small shrug, then reached out and plucked a flower from the hedge beside them, twirling it between his fingers with a lopsided grin.

"A little," he admitted.

Kira’s lip curled in disgust, but she held her ground.

"Then you should know," she said, "that those photographs aren’t what you’re trying to make them look like."

Brian raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and took a slow step closer.

"Really?" His voice dropped into something silkier and more dangerous.

"And will my dearest cousin see it that way, do you think? Will Derek look at those pictures and shrug it off? Just after you held a cosy little meeting with your stepmother, your father suddenly gains access to Dravengard’s security strategy."

He took another step, closing the space between them, crowding into her until she could smell the wine on his breath. "Walks his Umbras straight into the heart of the palace. Quite the coincidence, wouldn’t you say?"

He tilted his head.

"Or perhaps it wasn’t you at all. Perhaps it was your pretty little friend who’s the real traitor."

Kira’s spine went rigid. "Don’t drag Jessica into this."

"Oh, but shouldn’t I?" Brian’s grin widened, slow and cruel.

"After all, she was the one who arranged the meeting, wasn’t she? She drugged their meal. She handed you the scarf and the sunglasses. The whole little disguise was her doing."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper made of pure venom. "Now what do you suppose the King would do to her, if he heard all that? I heard she doesn’t have any pack backings now."

He lifted his hand, reaching toward her face as though to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

Kira moved fast.

In a single fluid motion she reached down, freed the small knife strapped to her thigh beneath the layers of her gown, the very blade Derek had pressed into her palm on the night of the Umbra attack, and brought it up flat against the side of Brian’s throat.

He froze.

"Take one more step," she hissed, "and I will open your throat right here in this garden."

For one brief moment, genuine surprise flickered across Brian’s face. He had not expected the knife.

He certainly had not expected the calm, even way she held the blade now resting against his pulse without the faintest tremor.

Then the surprise melted, and that infuriating amusement crept back in.

"Didn’t expect this."

He searched her eyes, his own gaze moving slowly over her face, almost wondering.

"Do you truly hate me?" he asked quietly. "Is that what this is?"

Kira looked him dead in the eyes.

"I abhor you," she said, and every word came out flat and certain. "You’re not just despicable, Brian. You disgust me. Down to the very bone."

Something shifted behind his eyes.

Real, unmistakable hurt, the kind that no man could fake, flashed across his face for just a heartbeat before he shuttered it away.

It caught Kira completely off guard. Of all the reactions she had braced herself for, mockery, rage, that cold smile, this was the last thing she had expected. A man like Brian, wounded by the contempt of a woman he tormented?

It made no sense. It threw her, just slightly.

Brian held her gaze a moment longer. Then, slowly, he raised both hands in a gesture of surrender and took a single step back.

Kira did not lower the knife. Not even an inch.

***

Back inside the ceremonial hall, Derek turned to look at the spot where Kira had been standing only minutes before.

She was gone.

His eyes moved across the crowd, sharp and quick, sweeping over the sea of faces. No teal gown. No chestnut hair crowned in gold and moonstone.

His gaze shifted, hunting now for a different figure. A crimson jacket.

Brian was gone too.

Derek’s jaw tightened. Slowly, his hand curled into a fist at his side.

He knew. He had known that Brian had been making moves on his wife. He had caught the man’s scent on her on the very night he had told her about the goddess’s curse. It had been so faint but it had been there.

And he had seen the way the colour drained clean out of Kira’s face the instant Brian had strolled into the coronation hall earlier.

He didn’t know exactly what was going on between them, but he had chosen to trust her. Again and again, he had chosen it.

He had given her the benefit of every doubt, had decided to believe she would hold to her word about fidelity. But then last night.

My loyalty lies with myself, she had said. It would be dangerous for you to trust me, Derek. Genuinely dangerous. So don’t.

And now he did not know what to think anymore.

He had held himself back through all of it. He had swallowed his suspicion, leashed his beast, kept his hands clean and his temper buried, because he didn’t want any scandal before the coronation.

But the coronation was done.

He was no longer a regent biting his tongue and minding his image. He was the King of Dravengard now, with all the terrible power of that title sitting freshly upon his shoulders.

And tonight, he decided coldly, he was going to skin Brian alive.

He left the group of men he had been talking to and turned for the doors. He had taken barely two steps when Nana materialised in front of him, blocking his path.

"Drek." She caught his arm. "Have you seen the queen? One moment she was right here, and then I turned to greet someone, and the girl simply vanished into thin air."

Derek’s eyes stayed fixed on the great doors at the far end of the hall.

"I haven’t seen her either, Nana," he said, his voice low and clipped. "But I’m about to find her. And find out exactly what she’s up to."

He gently but firmly removed his arm from her grip and strode toward the exit.

***

Far off in the corner of the hall, Flora stood chatting with a small knot of women, laughing at some shared joke.

Maya stood beside her, her eyes trailing the King as he cut through the crowd and stormed out through the doors, his cloak snapping behind him, his face a thundercloud.

Maya’s face crumpled. She shook her head slowly, side to side, as if in pity.

"The storm is already here," she whispered.