When he came over to join her by the glass wall that overlooked the underground green space, she showed him what she had in her hand. “What do you think of this?”

She’d never been friends with Vasic and she knew the distance came from her possessiveness toward Aden, but she respected him without question, would trust him at her back at any time—and he knew Aden as well as she did. He was also protective of Aden, and for that alone, she’d fought her primitive response and worked with him. Now he belonged to Ivy and was no threat to Zaira’s need for Aden.

“Yes, you’re right,” Vasic said, his eyes on what lay on her palm. “It’s exactly what he needs.” Winter-frost eyes met her own. “How did you know to have it?”

“I had it made by a jeweler five years ago.” She stared at the piece. “I don’t know why. It made no sense then.”

Vasic didn’t push, didn’t make her confront the fact that she’d had it created for Aden, because he was the only one who could ever wear it. Instead he said, “We both want the best for him.”

Curling her fingers over her palm, she nodded. “He needs a keeper at times.”

“He won’t agree, but you’re right.” The teleporter’s eyes went to the man they had in common. “We’ll achieve more if we work together.”

Zaira slanted him a glance. “You know I don’t share well.” She could say that to Vasic because he’d seen her as a violent, feral child, knew the primal base of her personality.

The winter frost glittered, but not with cold. “My mate tells me love is infinite. That Aden is my blood brother steals nothing from the fact that Ivy is my heart.”

“I don’t have that generosity of soul.” She’d never learned it, knew only how to hold on jealously tight so that the things that mattered wouldn’t be taken from her.

“Of course you do,” Vasic said. “Alejandro is just one example of it. There is a reason every Arrow in Venice, even the most recalcitrant senior, would die for you.” He left before she could reply, walking past Aden with a quiet word as Aden headed toward Zaira.

How’s Blake? she asked, not lowering her guard until the other Arrow was out of the room.

Aden’s expression gave nothing away but his mental voice was more open. It’s too soon to tell. He says all the right things, but it’s impossible to know if he means any of it.

The perfect Arrow demeanor, Zaira thought, could also be used as a wall behind which to hide. You should put a watch on him.

Amin keeps a subtle eye on him and he’s noticed no outwardly aberrant behavior.

They both knew Blake was a good enough Arrow to fake compliance and discipline, but Zaira also understood that so was she; if she couldn’t accept Blake being given a chance to redeem himself, then she couldn’t accept that chance, either. It wasn’t as if she had no blood on her hands.

“Ready?” Aden said aloud as he came to stand with his boots an inch from hers.

“No.” Lifting her hands, she pinned the brooch she held to where the point of his jacket’s angular front panel met his right shoulder. An arrow made of a titanium base, it had multiple black diamonds set into the bottom of the fletching.

The black gems were followed by blood-dark rubies, midnight sapphires, night green emeralds, and other dark gemstones, all the way back to black diamonds at the tip again. Look at it straight-on and the arrow appeared pure black, but that changed as soon as the light hit it. Then the colors could be seen in the black . . . as Aden had always seen beauty in her darkness, hope in every Arrow’s soul.

Stepping back, her heart thunder, she said, “Now we’re ready.”

“Arrows don’t stand out,” he said, but he didn’t remove the jeweled pin.

“You should.” This was the first time they’d appear in public devoid of Kaleb Krychek’s silver star. While the squad remained allied with the cardinal, they were no longer accepting any leadership but that from within their own ranks. “You’re our public face.”

He touched the arrow with careful fingertips. “Thank you. No one has ever given me anything so unique and beautiful.”

His deep, quiet pleasure threatened to shatter the cage all over again. Don’t lose it, she ordered brusquely. It’s one of a kind. Like you.

And you, Zaira. Aden didn’t close the final inches between them, but she felt as if he was touching her, holding her in place with the sheer, visceral power of his presence. There is no one like you.

He was right: she was a unique individual. But she was simply a person. Aden was something far bigger. He might not see it, but they all did. Let’s go.

Moving as one to Vasic, the Tk having returned to the room after pulling on his own formal coat, they took position on either side of him.

He teleported them to the door outside the meeting room. “I’ll be here during the meeting,” Vasic said to them both. “I can get you out in a split second.”

They all knew that if it came down to that, things would be beyond repair.

Heading inside without further words, Aden and Zaira took their places at the table. Kaleb Krychek was positioned next to Aden, while Nikita Duncan and Anthony Kyriakus sat across the table. Ivy Jane arrived seconds afterward, Vasic having brought in his mate last, so she’d have the protection of three Arrows.

She sat down beside Anthony.

“We all know why we’re here,” Nikita said as soon as Ivy was in her seat. “The interim Coalition has functioned as it should, but the attack on the Arrows makes it clear we need to show a stronger hand.”




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