Page 45 of Savage Claim

“Captain, he’s one of the Nightworld leaders of Savannah,” Barric said, leaning against the wall on the right. “Ruin should be included in our discussions. If anything, it would be easier to identify any dishonesty in person.”

“Thank you, Barric, for that backward compliment.” He smiled, but there was no threat in it. “You’re always so good at them.”

The head alpha dragged his hand over the short, wiry beard covering his jaw. “You make it so easy, Ruin.”

Coltrane lifted her hand to halt the ravens from advancing any farther. “Return to your previous positions, and any invited to this conference, please have a seat. I’d rather not make things worse.”

As Fane and I sat at a table in the front, Ruin grabbed a marker, writing Venna’s name in perfect handwriting across the board. “I’ve told you numerous times to watch out for this royal.”

“That’s what I said, but no one wants to listen to me,” Kortney mumbled under her breath at the table behind me.

The demon lord’s sensitive ears picked up on her low words and winked in her direction. A blush spread over her cheeks, and she slumped in her seat under his attention.

“As you know, she took the throne in Vlehull after Karn died, but she hasn’t done much ruling,” Ruin continued. “That city is falling apart and overrun by sub-demons. That’s why the gateway in Bonaventure Cemetery is so easily accessible now.”

Barric folded his large arms over his barrel chest. “And you believe she could be the one taking shifters? For what purpose?”

“She has a lot of old, powerful friends, so she’d have the resources to set up an elaborate operation, but I have no idea why she would need shifters, specifically bitten ones at that.” Ruin smoothed a hand over his navy hair, the tattoos on his fingers stark against his pale flesh. “She only pretends to be a flighty, chaotic creature with a short attention span. Really, she’s psychotic and will do anything for power.”

“How convenient that there is this other dangerous demon you can blame all of this on.” Coltrane’s nose crinkled like she smelled something rotten. “Am I supposed to take your word for it?”

Ruin shrugged. “I’ve been high demon lord of Savannah long before the ravens were here. And when you came, did I not welcome you and your little rules so we could all peacefully reside in the city?” He dropped the marker on the shelf with a thud. “I have never once betrayed you or allowed my demons to break the accords without punishment. Something foul is afoot, causing my demons to become crazed, and all you want to do is blame me when you have no proof.”

A cold tingle of fear slithered over my spine as I thought of another suspect. Ruin’s twin, Wrath, had tried to convince me that his brother wasn’t as kind as I’d thought. He even blamed his brother for the mad demons, but what if that was just a ruse to throw me off? What if Wrath was behind all of this?

The high demon was pretending to be Warden Demarcus, but was he always in Heldrok? He blamed his brother for trying to kill him. Maybe this was some master plan to steal the ruling position in Savannah from Ruin.

I placed the yellow lilies and Snickers bar—her favorite candy—on the small cement square in the ground. That little plaque and this lot, crammed so closely with others, was all I could afford.

Jayla deserved so much better than this mediocre, unremarkable memorial. She deserved one of those giant tombstones with a picture of her smiling face and a huge, winged angel standing guard over her final resting place.

No. She deserved to be alive.

Instead of rotting in the ground at thirteen, she should be with a loving family, dreaming about dances, college, and all the wonderful things life would bring. But she had to end up caught in my whirlwind of despair.

This was only the second time I’d visited her grave in Rosewood Cemetery, and Fane would kill me when he realized I snuck out of Silver Ridge. Again. So would Barric.

After we left that tense meeting at Corvin Manor, the head alpha had a few choice words for me. He was furious that I knowingly walked into Venna’s trap, and he wanted to throttle Fane for not divulging all the gory details.

Like I’d expected, Barric assigned a shifter to tail me around the damn compound when Fane wasn’t up my ass. Of course, the moment Ian stepped in, I gave the poor guy the slip. He had no idea I crawled out of my window, shimmied across the ledge to the next room, and snuck inside. Then I made my escape.

I never would have been able to do that with Fane. Once he realized I was gone, he’d probably use our astral projection ability to find me. But I needed to do this on my own. I had to confront the guilt eating away at me, and I couldn’t do that with someone looming over my shoulder, even Fane.

My knees hit the cold ground, moisture soaking my jeans. “I’m so sorry for not coming sooner, Jayla Bear.” As the pain I kept in a steel cage began to break through, tears streaked my cheeks, feeling like fire against my icy skin. “I was just…”

Afraid to face her.

I brushed dirt and grass from the headstone, tracing my fingers over her name. “I’m sorry for not visiting. I didn’t forget you. I just had a hard time living while you weren’t.” My tears dropped onto the grass, and more fell from my chin. “A lot has been going on, but that’s no excuse.”

A sob tore through my mouth, echoing across the dark graveyard. Deep gouges ripped into my chest as all the pain and anguish I held onto poured out, drenching the ground like blood.

“Can you ever forgive me, Jayla? For leaving you that night, for not making it back in time, for not saving you?”

I hunched over, my hands digging into the soft soil as painful sobs erupted. The tears I wouldn’t let myself cry because I didn’t deserve to mourn her flooded down my cheeks. Her death was on my hands, and I should be sick with grief for the rest of my life. So I’d put her in a box in my mind and tried to lock everything up.

But that box, that prison, had been blown apart, and everything gushed out. Fane had to feel this, even miles away. I wouldn’t be surprised if his phantom form popped up, called by my misery.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed while agony bled out of me and onto Jayla’s grave. The wet grass soaked my jeans, and chills overtook my body, but that had more to do with the emotional storm than the wintery weather.

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