“Well, can you at least wait until after I’ve shot my father?”

  She pulled the gun from his hand. “I can definitely try, but I’ll probably get to him before you.”

  “You wanna bet?” he asked, selecting another gun for himself. “Twenty credits says I shoot him first.”

  Shadera laughed now and the sound almost brought him to his knees. “A thousand credits says you won’t even have the safety off before I put a bullet in his skull and yours.”

  Greyson shook his head, a grin now spreading over his face. “Deal”

  Greyson met her gaze, and even with the humor, he saw the same murderous intent reflected there that burned in his own chest. In that moment, they understood each other perfectly—two weapons pointed now at the same man.

  He turned back to the cache as Shadera took another step into the room, selecting a smaller gun that could be concealed in an ankle holster. “Take as many as you can hide,” he advised, reaching for a knife next. “We don’t know how this will play out, but—”

  “If I were you, I’d carry as many as possible.”

  The voice from the doorway sent Greyson spinning, gun raised and aimed before he’d fully registered the movement. He stepped in front of Shadera in the same motion, his body instinctively placing itself between her and the threat.

  Mikel stood in the entrance to his room, his Veyra mask betraying nothing of his expression beneath. He made no move to draw his own weapon, showed no reaction to the gun pointed at his chest. He simply stood there, hands clasped behind his back in that perfect military posture Greyson had seen his entire life.

  “It’s eleven forty-five, we need to go. The ceremony begins in fifteen minutes.” Mikel said, gesturing toward the window before turning away from them. “I’ll be by the door.”

  Greyson slowly lowered his gun, turning back to face Shadera whose eyes were just as wild as she clung to his arm.

  Trust the captain.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT THE VOW

  LIRA MOVED THROUGH THE crowd, her path to the platform opening before her as if by right. Bodies parted without hesitation, their masked faces tilting in respect as she passed. The air in the plaza was thick, suffocating with anticipation. Thousands gathered for the vows that would bind Shadera and Greyson.

  Lira’s stomach clenched, bile rising in her throat as her fingers closed around the tablet in her pocket. She had minutes now. Just minutes to set everything in motion.

  She glanced up to the platform where her father already stood at its apex, his golden mask gleaming brighter than any, the full weight of his presence pressing down upon the crowd. Her mother stood a few steps behind him, head dipped in submission.

  Her lungs felt too small suddenly, unable to draw enough air. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the murmurs of the crowd. This was it. There would be no going back.

  Lira slipped the tablet from her pocket and pressed it to her ear, turning slightly away from the platform. Her fingers trembled as she dialed, the encrypted line connecting almost instantly.

  “I can see you on the feeds.” Callum’s voice was warm, amused—trying to calm her. “You look terrified. Remember to breathe.”

  His casualness, his easy confidence, cut through her. He had no idea what she was about to do. What she’d already set in motion.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, the words barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

  A beat of silence. “What’s wrong?” The warmth drained from his voice, replaced by concern.

  Lira swallowed hard, watching as the final preparations were made on the platform. The cylindrical veil hung suspended above the altar, ready to descend at the crucial moment. Soon Greyson and Shadera would stand beneath it.

  “I can’t let it happen,” she said finally. “I can’t let them take Shadera to that room. You don’t understand what happens there.”

  “Lira—” The alarm in his voice was growing. “What are you talking about?”

  She glanced up at the platform. “I found documents. I didn’t know until a few days ago. Until I really started digging. She won’t just be forced to consummate the marriage with Greyson.” Her breath shuttered. “After… After Greyson and her… My father, his men… They rape them. They rape them and make their husbands watch.” The words spilled out of her now. “It’s not just a consummation of the marriage. It’s a consummation of their loyalty to the Heart and its leaders.”

  She could hear Callum gasp. She pictured him in his office, surrounded by screens, watching her through a dozen different camera angles. Trying to piece together what she saying.

  “I have a plan,” she said, her voice steadier now as her resolve hardened. “I should have told you, but I knew you’d try to stop me. All of you would have. But this was the only way.”

  “The only way for what?” Panic edged into his tone now. “Lira, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it. The plan is working. Jameson’s teams are in position. Farrow is about to cut the power to the checkpoints inside the Heart to let them into the plaza. We’re almost there.”

  “I can’t wait till tonight.” She watched as Veyra officers arranged themselves at the base of the platform, hands clutched around their guns. “I will not let them take her to that room. I won’t.”

  “Tell me what you’re planning. Let me help you,” Callum insisted, his words coming faster now.

  “Just let the others know that it’s starting.”

  “Lira, please—”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, hearing the desperation in his voice and hating herself for causing it. “I love you.”

  She ended the call before he could respond, slipping the tablet back into her pocket. Her eyes burned, tears screaming to be freed, but she blinked them away. There was no room for weakness now. No room for doubt.

  She climbed the steps to the platform, each one bringing her closer to the moment that would change everything. Her father turned as she approached, his golden mask catching the light, hiding whatever expression lay beneath.

  “Is everything all right?” Maximus asked, his voice pitched low enough that only she could hear.

  Lira nodded, meeting his eyes without flinching. “Yes, Father. I was just confirming that the billboards in the rings have the live streams working properly.”

  He studied her for a long moment, as if trying to read beyond her words, beyond her mask. Then he nodded once, satisfied. “Good. Everything must be perfect today.”

  Lira took her place beside her mother, feeling the weight of a thousand eyes upon her. Elara stood tall and elegant. Lira had always wondered what expression her mother wore beneath that mask. What thoughts passed behind those eyes that watched the world through metal slits.

  She nearly gasped aloud when her mother’s hand slipped into hers, fingers intertwining and squeezing gently.

  “I have never been more proud to have you as my daughter,” Elara whispered, her voice so soft it was barely a breath.

  Lira’s mind reeled, her carefully constructed calm cracking at the edges. What did that mean? Did she know?

  Before she could process, before she could fully latch on to the words, a stir ran through the crowd. Heads turned, bodies shifted, creating a path from the edge of the plaza to the platform.

  Greyson and Shadera had arrived.

  They moved in perfect synchronization, side by side but not touching. Greyson wore formal black, his mask the obsidian piece he’d worn all his life. Shadera walked beside him, the shawl draped over her shoulders, covering the evidence of her suffering. But she could still see the bruises marring her neck, disappearing beneath the fabric, only to reappear on her exposed leg through the high slit.

  Bile rose in her throat as they ascended up the platform steps. This was it. Her heart thundered in her chest as Greyson’s eyes caught hers, and gave her a small nod.

  Shadera’s eyes stayed focused forward, her chest rising and falling just as fast as her own.

  They took their places on either side of the altar within the golden cylinder, standing like statues, barely breathing. The crowd fell silent, anticipation crackling like electricity in the air.

  Lira stepped forward, aware of the media drones hovering closer, capturing her every movement.

  “Citizens of New Found Haven,” she began, her voice carrying through the live feed at her back, “we gather today to witness the union of two worlds. The Heart and the Boundary, joined in sacred Vow.” The words tasted like ash on her tongue, but she spoke them clearly, playing her part one final time. “The ceremony has now begun.”

  The drones shifted, focusing now on her father as he moved to stand behind the altar. Maximus raised his hands, a gesture that silenced even the whispers that had begun to stir in the crowd.

  “The Heart endures,” he intoned, and paused as thousands of voices echoed the words back to him. “This is a day of great celebration, a promise of a brighter future for our great city. Unity between rings. A symbol that will forge bonds.” His voice rolled across the plaza, practiced and powerful. “Greyson, Shadera, you may face each other now and join hands across the altar.”

  They turned toward each other slowly, lifting their hands until they met across the altar. Lira could barely breathe, could barely hear anything over the sound of her own pulse as she watched their fingers wrap around each other’s. Even from where she stood, Lira could see the tension in their bodies, the forced nature of the gesture.

  Maximus continued the ritual, his voice rising and falling in the familiar cadence of the Vow ceremony. Words about duty, about honor, about the sacred traditions of the Heart.

  It was static. All of it was static.

  * * *

  WHAT THE FUCK IS she planning?

  Callum’s mind raced through possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. Her voice had been calm—too calm. The voice of someone who’d already accepted the consequences of their actions. Who’d made peace with them.

  He leaned closer to the screens, scanning every angle of the plaza. Security patterns normal. Veyra positions unchanged. Nothing visibly amiss.

  Callum’s fingers flew over his keyboard, checking the status of Jameson’s teams. Still in position. No movement. Jaeger’s assassins remained hidden among the crowd, and perched on rooftops waiting for his signal.

  He could hear Maximus’s voice through the feeds echoing through every channel. Callum forced himself to focus, to think like the strategist he was rather than the man terrified for the woman he loved.

  He reached for his security override panel, the digital interface that controlled his backdoors into the Heart’s surveillance systems. His password flashed red. Access denied.

  That isn’t possible.

  He tried again. The same error message pulsed on the screen, mocking him.

  “No, no, no,” he muttered, fingers flying over the keys as he tried a different approach. Another rejection. A third.

  Cold sweat broke out across his forehead. Someone had changed the security protocols. Someone had located him in the system and locked him out.

  Callum grabbed his tablet, punching in Farrow’s emergency code with trembling fingers. She answered immediately.

  “I’m a little busy—”

  “Cut the power grids,” he interrupted, the words rushing out. “Now. Right now.”

  “That wasn’t the plan—”

  “Fuck the plan,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Something’s wrong. Cut the power to the checkpoints now.”

  “I’m trying,” Farrow said, her voice tight with concentration. “The access isn’t working.”

  “What do you mean it isn’t working?” Panic clawed up his throat. “Use the bypass codes.”

  “I am,” she insisted. “They’re not going through. The system is rejecting them.”

  Callum’s heart slammed against his ribs. “Try again.”

  “Nothing. It’s like someone changed everything. Like someone knew exactly what we were planning.”

  His stomach bottomed out.

  If Farrow couldn’t cut the power to the internal checkpoints, Jameson’s teams couldn’t move beyond the Entertainment District. They would be trapped there.

  He would be trapped there.

  “Lira called you,” Callum said frantically. “What did she want?”

  “What?” Farrow said, confusion fusing with her panic.

  “What fucking plan did she make with you?” His words were a snarl now.

  “Tonight. At the final ceremony, she was going to release documents to the public of her father’s corruption. She asked me to help her make copies without the Heart knowing.”

  That couldn’t be what she meant. That was too simple, that was too easy. “What else?”

  “Nothing, Callum. What is going on?” There was a breath’s pause. “Oh God. Did she—”

  “No.” He refused to believe it. She wouldn’t betray them. She wouldn’t lock them out of the system. She wanted this as much as any of them.

  “Shoot it,” Callum said. “Fry the whole fucking power grid if you have to, just get those checkpoints offline.”

  * * *

  LIRA WAS SURE SHE’D faint from breathing so hard. Each shallow breath barely sustained her as she stood rigid beside her mother, watching the ceremony unfold with the inevitability of an execution.

  Maximus turned to Shadera, the tilt of his golden mask conveying benevolent authority as he asked the question that had sealed the fate of countless women before her.

  “Do you, Shadera Kael, accept this Vow? Do you vow to uphold the honor of bowing to your husband, of bowing to the Heart and the laws of New Found Haven?”

  Lira watched Shadera’s chest rise with a deep breath, watched her straighten despite the pain that must have lanced through her body.

  “Yes.” The word carried across the plaza, broadcast through speakers that would send it to every corner of the city. A single syllable, devoid of emotion.

  Lira’s fingernails bit into her palms.

  Her father turned to Greyson now, his posture shifting subtly—from benevolent ruler to stern patriarch. “Do you, Greyson Serel, accept this Vow? Do you vow to uphold your duty as the head of the family, the educator of the family, and to bow to the Heart and the laws of New Found Haven?”

  Greyson’s “Yes” was firmer than Shadera’s, almost challenging in its clarity. Even through his mask, Lira could feel the rage radiating from her brother, the violence that simmered beneath his exterior.

  “By the sacred laws of the Heart,” Maximus declared, raising his hands in a gesture that would be captured by every camera, broadcast on every screen, “your vows have been recorded into history.” His voice swelled with practiced emotion. “You may now witness each other’s faces as husband and wife.”

  At his command, the veil descended, the golden cylinder lowering smoothly around Greyson and Shadera. It would give them their minute of privacy—the only moment in the ceremony not broadcast to the watching city.

  Lira focused on her breathing, forcing each inhale and exhale to steady and slow. She’d planned this moment methodically. Had moved pieces on the board with a patience that would’ve made her father proud, had he known. Had created contingencies and fail-safes, backups for backups.

  But still, doubt crept in. Doubt and fear and the terrible weight of consequence.

  It all rested on Greyson and Shadera now.

  The minute passed in silence, the crowd waiting with collective breath held. Her father stepped forward again, his posture radiating satisfaction and control.

  “The veil will now rise on the newlywed couple,” he announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the plaza. The golden cylinder began to ascend, inch by slow inch, revealing first Greyson and Shadera’s joined hands, then their formal attire. “Citizens of the Heart, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Greyson Serel.”

  The Heart remained utterly silent.

  No applause. No murmurs of approval.

  No reaction at all save for a collective inhale that seemed to suck the very air from the plaza.

  Confusion rippled through her father’s stance, a momentary hesitation that would have been imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know him as she did. He turned, his movement unnaturally stiff, to face the altar.

  Maximus froze.

  Lira watched the shock move through him like electricity, his body going rigid as stone. The golden mask hid his expression, but she could read the disbelief in every line of his posture, in the slight tremor that ran through his hands.

  Greyson and Shadera stood side by side, fingers still intertwined, faces bare to the world.

  No masks.

  No veils.

  Shadera’s shawl slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her feet as a note slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the ground at Maximus’s feet.

  He bent to retrieve it, movements mechanical, as if his body were functioning on instinct while his mind struggled to process the betrayal.

  Lira watched as he read her handwriting. Her command. Her rebellion.

  Leave them off.

  His head lifted slowly, the golden mask turning toward her, gaze finding her face across the platform.

  In that moment, with her father’s eyes locked on hers, Lira felt a lifetime of fear fall away. Fear of his disapproval. Fear of his anger. Fear of his punishment. All of it dissolving like mist under the rising sun.

  She’d spent her life as his perfect daughter. His diplomat. His puppet. Moving when he pulled the strings, speaking the words he put in her mouth. She’d smiled through her mask as he built his empire on the broken bodies of the rings.

  No more.

  She held his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to bend.

  For the first time in her life, she faced her father not as his daughter, but as his enemy.

  The silence in the plaza stretched, taut as a wire about to snap. The media drones hovered, capturing every moment of this unprecedented breach of Heart law.

  Slowly, Lira’s hand raised, finding the zipper on the front of her dress, and pulled it down. The sound of it sliding over teeth was the loudest thing she ever heard. She shrugged out of it, letting it pool at her feet, letting it reveal the white slip underneath.