Isilyn

  The air in the room felt like a noose tightening around my throat. The injured woman in the doorway barely registered at first—my focus was locked on Locke, on the insufferable fucking smirk he wore like a second skin. But as she stepped further inside, her presence forced its way into my awareness. Blood stained her shoulder, dripping sluggishly down her arm, but she wasn’t staggering. No, she moved like someone who was used to bleeding, who knew how to push past it.

  Her gaze flicked across the room, sharp, assessing. Like she was trying to decide if this was worth her time.

  No one moved. The two men who had barged in before her—the dark-haired one who radiated danger and the tall one with unreadable eyes—were just as still as I was, their focus shifting between Locke and the newcomer. No recognition passed between them, no nods or greetings. Which meant none of us knew each other.

  Great.

  The woman let out a slow breath, then aimed a pointed look at Locke. "You're a hard fucking man to find."

  His smirk widened, but there was something cautious in the way he studied her. Not familiarity—calculation. He was trying to place her, just like the rest of us.

  "I could say the same for you," he said, smoothly noncommittal. "And yet, here we are."

  "Not by choice." She crossed her arms, wincing slightly as she jostled her injured shoulder. "But I figure if anyone knows what the fuck is going on, it’s you."

  Locke chuckled, dragging his fingers along the table’s surface. "A room full of strangers, all thinking I have the answers they want. Fascinating." His gaze swept across us, slow, deliberate. "The real question is, what happens now? Because I doubt you all just stumbled in here for a friendly chat."

  I took a step forward, pointing my dagger at him. "You’re done stalling. Start talking."

  The dark-haired man let out a soft, amused huff. "Look at that. We might actually have something in common."

  I shot him a glare. "I don't give a shit about common ground. I'm here for answers."

  "Same here." His smirk didn’t waver. "So how about we let the bastard talk before someone loses a hand?"

  I was about to snap back when the taller man beside him finally moved, shifting his stance just enough to make it clear he was paying attention. His expression remained unreadable, but the way he carried himself—it set my instincts on edge. Dangerous. But controlled. A stark contrast to the man beside him, who looked like he’d throw a punch just to see what happened.

  The injured woman sighed. "This is already a fucking headache."

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  "Agreed," Locke murmured. He leaned back, finally giving a small, measured nod. "Alright. You want answers? Then let’s lay everything on the table. But first, I think we should start with a simple question." His smile turned razor-sharp. "Who the fuck are you?"

  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Zarek

  Now that was funny.

  I exchanged a glance with Korrin. This wasn’t our first time walking into a situation we didn’t have all the pieces for, but this? This was a fucking mess.

  The silver-haired woman bristled at Locke’s question, her grip on the dagger tightening. She wasn’t going to give him anything. Neither was the other woman, who looked like she was debating whether or not stabbing him was worth the effort.

  Korrin shifted beside me, silent as ever, but I knew what that meant. He was watching, measuring, waiting for something to tip the balance.

  Locke sighed dramatically. "No one? Alright then, let’s try something else. Why are you here? Because I doubt it’s for the atmosphere."

  The silver-haired woman spoke first. "You have something I need."

  Locke raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

  "Don’t play fucking stupid." Her voice was sharp, unwavering. "I know you have information, and I want it."

  I smirked. "Sounds familiar."

  She shot me a look like she wanted to bury that dagger between my ribs. I liked her already.

  Locke exhaled through his nose, studying her for a moment before turning his attention to the other woman. "And you? Same story?"

  She hesitated—just for a fraction of a second. But it was there. "I need information. And I need it now."

  "So impatient," Locke mused. "But fair enough. And you two?" He gestured lazily at Korrin and me.

  Korrin didn’t move. I tilted my head, considering him. Then, with a grin, I answered for both of us. "We like knowing things. And from what I hear, you know a lot."

  Locke chuckled. "Flattering. But here’s the problem—we’re at an impasse. You all want something from me. And I have no reason to give it." He spread his hands. "So unless you have something worth my time, this conversation is over."

  Tension thickened in the room. No one spoke. No one moved. But the air practically crackled with unspoken threats.

  This was about to get interesting.

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Dravena

  I was losing patience fast. My shoulder throbbed, my head ached, and I was stuck in a room full of strangers with too many secrets and not enough answers.

  Locke was trying to play this like he was in control. He wasn’t. Not yet.

  "You want something worth your time?" I stepped forward, ignoring the dull ache in my arm. "Fine. How about this—I don’t kill you where you sit."

  The silver-haired woman snorted. "Get in line."

  Locke smiled, but his eyes darkened. "Tempting. But let’s be honest—if any of you were going to kill me, you’d have done it already."

  He wasn’t wrong. And that pissed me off even more.

  The dark-haired man let out a low chuckle. "You enjoy this, don’t you?"

  Locke leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Oh, immensely."

  I clenched my jaw. "Then let’s cut the shit. If you don’t have what I need, I’ll find someone who does."

  Locke watched me carefully. Then, slowly, his smirk faded. "You really don’t know what you’re walking into, do you?"

  Something in his tone sent a chill down my spine.

  The room fell silent. The weight of it settled over all of us, heavy with unspoken meaning.

  Then Locke exhaled, shaking his head. "Alright. You want answers? Fine. But let me make one thing clear—once you start down this road, there’s no turning back. And if you think you’re ready for that, then you’re more foolish than I thought."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Try me."

  His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Oh, I intend to."