ATASHA’S POV


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    80


    55 vouchers


    I stood up from the bed, pulling the quilt away and folding it neatly to the side. My hands reached for the inner lining of my gown, and I tugged it off, revealing the dark clothing underneath. It was thin, tight, and flexible. All ck. Cassian had personally chosen it for me. He said it would help me blend into the shadows, and tonight, that was exactly what I needed.


    The moment I had changedpletely, I took my regr clothes and arranged them on the bed, stuffing the sleeves and shape with soft towels and spare cloths to create the illusion of a sleeping body. Then I covered it all with the nket Genevieve had given me. At a quick nce, it would look like I was still lying there, resting just like they wanted.


    I approached the window. My fingers worked quickly to unlock thetch, pushing it open just enough to squeeze through. The night air was cold against my skin. My heart was already pounding.


    Outside the window was a narrow ledge, the stone overhang that ran along the perimeter of the mansion. It wasn’t meant to be walked on, not at this height, not barefoot and definitely not when it’s wet from the rain.


    But it was my only way to reach the opposite wing without drawing attention. Below me was a two–story drop onto stone tiles, and I had no desire to find out how much pain that would


    cause.


    Carefully, I stepped onto the ledge, keeping one hand braced against the outer wall of the mansion. The surface beneath my feet was rough and uneven, not quite wide enough forfort, but enough to move. Slowly, I edged sideways, keeping close to the wall. I didn’t look down. I couldn’t afford to.


    The ledge curved at a corner, and I pressed my back tighter against the stone as I shuffled around it, breath held in my throat.


    From this angle<i>, </i>I could see across the courtyard, the guards were shouting orders, distracted by themotion. The Demon Fang had arrived, just like Cassian said. Fires flickered in the distance. Screams echoed faintly. The chaos was growing, and so was my window of opportunity.


    After a few more careful steps, I reached the window to my father’s study. I crouched low, gripping the frame. It was locked. Of course it was.


    I reached into the pocket Cassian had sewn into the side of the suit and pulled out a small t piece of metal. A lockpick. He had made sure I practiced earlier, even if just on drawers. My hands trembled slightly as I worked it into the keyhole. I couldn’t hear the clicks, not over the shouting and drums, but I felt them.


    One… two…


    Then the softest shift.


    It gave way.


    <b>80 </b>


    55 vouchers


    I eased the window open just enough to slide through, then pulled it shut behind me.


    I was inside.


    Now I had to find the map.


    The room was dark except for the faint glow from the dying fire in the firece. I crouched low, listening for any movement. None.


    I moved deeper into the room, careful not to make a sound. The fire in the hearth was low, just barely enough to warm the study. Cassian had warned me about it, told me that to keep the temperature stable, one of the omegas woulde in every hour to feed the mes. That gave me a rough time limit, but not muchfort. If I got caught, no one would believe I was just lost.


    My eyes adjusted to the dim glow as I began my search. Cassian told me the map wouldn’t look like a map. It would be hidden in in sight, somewhere obvious, yet easy to overlook. “That’s the trick,” he had said. “Your father is paranoid. He doesn’t trust vaults or secret panels. He hides things where people won’t think to look twice.”


    I turned to the shelves lining the back wall. If I were seated at his desk, these books would be behind me. Out of sight. Out of mind. That alone made me doubt they were worth checking but I had to be thorough.


    I skimmed the spines with my fingers.


    The History of Werewolves and Fairies.


    The Pact Between Fang and Fang: Werewolves and Vampires.


    Arecor: Founding <i>of </i>the Eastern Territories.


    All of them sounded useful. All of them were dusty, untouched. The shelves were too neat. Too curated. Nothing here looked even slightly out of ce,


    I frowned.


    That wasn’t like him.


    Even now, after everything, after suspecting that he might not even be my real father, I still knew the man. His habits. His paranoia.


    <b>80 </b>


    55 vouchers


    This was someone who nearly gutted his Beta once because the man didn’t knock properly. He was suspicious by nature, obsessive. If he hid something, it wouldn’t be somewhere out of reach. It would be in front of him. Somewhere he could see it at all times.


    I turned away from the books and looked toward the firece across the room. Above it hung the infamous painting, a red horse on a white background. Legend said it was painted using the blood of our ancestors‘ enemies. I’d always thought that was just a story meant to scare children.


    Still, the image unnerved me. The horse looked like it was charging straight at whoever sat at the desk. Was that the point? A warning? Or was it a message?


    I stepped closer and examined the frame. No hinges. No signs that it had ever been moved. My eyes dropped to the mantel. Dusty. Undisturbed.


    If the map wasn’t there…


    Then my eyes shifted downward.


    To the desk.


    Arge, heavy structure with stacks of papers, old maps, books, and one triangr paperweight near the center. Everything looked ordinary at first nce until I really looked.


    The paperweight was shaped like a pyramid, smooth, almost glossy. But under the faint light, I saw it. Etched into the surface, barely visible unless you looked closely, were faint symbols. Lines. A pattern of some kind.


    My chest tightened. This had to be it.


    I moved closer, reaching out to lift the paperweight. It was heavier than it looked. I turned it over, feeling along the base. There, tucked into the bottom edge, was a seam. Almost invisible.


    I didn’t even get the chance <i>to </i>open it.


    The silence shattered with the faintest sound. A soft shuffle that’s barely audible, but unmistakable.


    Then came the low thud of boots against the stone floor, slow and deliberate, just outside the door.


    My breath caught.


    My heart stilled.


    Someone wasing.


    …


    80


    55 vouchers


    I nced around the room, eyes wide. There was no time to escape through the window. I couldn’t make it to the bookshelves without being seen.


    The doorknob turned.


    No….too soon.


    I dove toward the far side of the desk, dropping low behind it just as the door creaked open.