Page 117 of Forbidden Empire
The word pounded through me, an endless echo every time my boot hit the dirt. Step after step, the word drove itself deeper into my chest, into my bones, until I half-expected the others to hear it, especially Esme.
She glanced over, breath brushing my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My answer was rough, unsteady. I tipped my head back, eyes fixed on the moon, letting its cold light flood over me and spill into the cracks.
If tonight were the night I died, this wouldn’t be the worst way to go. My best men stood beside me. My pride remained intact. Hands steady, heart ready to spill whatever blood was necessary.
For her.
If I had to die tonight, it wouldn’t be so bad with Esme beside me. It would be alright, whatever happened. In fact, I could almost believe it would be perfect. But I wasn’t about to die, not tonight, not here, not like this.
That fate belonged to Rhea now. Poor Rhea. She’d sealed her fate ages ago, and there was no walking it back. No one fucked me over as hard as she had and lived to gloat about it.
Honestly, she had to know her time was almost up. She had to feel it every time she looked over her shoulder. It almost made me laugh, the thought of her believing she could be the first to take me down without paying the price.
No.
Tonight, Rhea was done for. And I couldn’t lie, I was almost giddy at the thought of being the one to end it for her.
The compound slid into sight as we rounded the edge of the rocky bluff. It sprawled behind chain link fencing, barbed wire curling along the top, every inch washed in glaring white from the oversized floodlights that cut through the darkness and made the shadows scatter.
My pulse thrummed, half anticipation, half something sweeter, and I could almost taste the coming surrender on my tongue.
“Looks like a fucking prison,” Zenos bit out.
“Looks like a fucking good place to destroy our enemy, if you ask me,” I shot back.
The rage I’d been carrying for Rhea had been simmering just beneath my skin, threatening to crack me open. Now, knowing she was just beyond that wall, I let it flood through me, let it burn hot and wild and hungry.
“Everything looks peaceful,” Ares observed, as if he didn’t trust the calm.
“Calm before the fucking storm,” I muttered.
My eyes swept the compound, memorizing every inch, every shadow, every threat.
Ares shifted, straightening his spine, his presence suddenly all leader. With two fingers, he pointed into the darkness ahead.
“North side. Compound’s got a massive gate. Main entrance. Security booth with one guard. He’s loaded for war, and the booth’s got eyes all over it, straight from the security hub inside. One button, and he can call in a shitload of backup. If he spots us, we’re fucked.”
“So, we make sure that doesn’t happen,” Esme said.
Zenos shot her a glare, still pissed she was here at all, but I ignored it.
“Exactly,” Ares replied, not missing a beat. “We do it by coming up behind him. I’ll handle it alone. Less noise, less chance of tipping him off. Once he’s down, we move in. Cameras will still see us, but my guy inside will keep security distracted. Timing is everything.”
Ares checked his watch, every movement crisp, sure. Then he nodded once.
“We’re right on time.” He pulled out his phone, thumb moving with quick precision, and sent the alert to our man inside.
We’d finally managed to sneak someone into Rhea’s operation, a spy who’d survived when so many before him had not.
He’d gone in undercover, smooth in his interview as a new guard, and she’d hired him without a second thought. His presence was everything; the mission hinged on him.
“You got this,” I said to Ares, locking eyes with him and letting the silent message settle between us before he turned and sprinted off.
No goodbyes, no hesitation, just the pure, electric trust of brothers in arms.
In the darkness, we watched him move. He zigzagged through the shadows, limbs taut and low, silent as a predator closing in.
