Page 65 of Vicious Kings
Vengeance.
She's here forvengeance.
Not that there's any proof this hunter was connected to her. It's merely a theory that fits the facts. The Moreau clan is vast yet all but incestuous, only bringing in new blood occasionally to keep the family tree from becoming a wreath. It could be any distant relation, and yet…
It's the only thing that makes sense of her presence here.
The realization should send me straight to the palace, should have me alerting every guard on campus. Itshouldtrigger every protective instinct I've honed over centuries of keeping Corvinus alive.
Instead, I find myself fascinated.
A hunter omega seeking revenge against the prince who killed her mother. The contradiction is beautiful in its complexity.
And Corvinus, the arrogant fool, has no idea.
I return the files to their proper places, erasing the traces of both Caelyx's visit and my own. The wards seal behind me as I exit, leaving no evidence I was ever there.
The walk back to our shared residence on the outskirts of campus gives me time to think. To plan and consider the variables.
Billie refused Corvinus's offer and in doing so, she accomplished something no one has managed to do in centuries.
She surprised me.
No omega refuses the prince. Not when he's offering protection, privilege, the kind of life most of them spend their entire existence dreaming about.
But she did.
Which means she's either incredibly stupid, incredibly brave,orplaying a game so deep even I can't see the bottom of it.
I'm betting on the last option.
But if she's here to kill Corvinus, accepting his offer would have been the logical move. Get close, earn his trust, wait for the perfect moment to strike. That's how assassins work. How hunters work.
Rejecting him publicly was not prudent. Unless she's playing the long game. Unless she knewexactlywhat kind of obsession her rejection would trigger in him.
The mansion materializes out of the darkness. It's smaller than the palace, more intimate, but no less impressive in its construction. White stone that seems to drink in moonlight, towers that twist toward the sky. Gardens that bloom withflowers found only in the deepest parts of the Fae realm, their petals singing soft songs that most can't hear.
Home. If anywhere has ever been that, it's here.
The front door opens before I reach it, responding to my presence. The entrance hall greets me with familiar opulence and marble floors inlaid with silver. The walls are hung with art worth more than entire cities, and above the stairs sits a chandelier that could blind lesser beings with its radiance.
The house is silent, except for the faint sound of music drifting from the upper floors.
No. Not music.
Paintingmusic. Corvinus only listens to that composer when he's knee-deep in the craft.
"Fuck," I mutter, already knowing what I'll find.
Tallon appears from the sitting room, leaning against the doorframe with a glass of wine in one hand and that knowing smirk playing at his lips. He's changed from his earlier formal wear into something more comfortable. Loose pants and a shirt that hangs open to reveal every inch of his abs like the showy peacock he is.
"Welcome home, Professor," he says, raising his glass in mock salute. "How was your evening of academic drudgery?"
"Where is he?"
"Locked in his study." Tallon takes a sip, his green eyes glittering with amusement over the rim. "Been there since we got back from the party. Didn't even stop to eat dinner."
I close my eyes, counting to five in the ancient tongue my mother taught me. It doesn't help. "He's painting again."
