Page 44 of The Quoram Effect

At the end of the long corridor, we entered the darkly lit gala hall where dozens upon dozens of round tables filledthe expanse, all adorned with elaborate floral arrangements, fine crockery, cutlery, and wineglasses. As Marla and Torz meandered through the tables towards their seats, Saul pulled me and our team aside, reiterating the final rundown of orders for this evening.

Saul’s instructions were a blur of muffled words as my eyes remained affixed to Torz. His handsome face smiled widely, exposing those dimples I rarely saw these days. The black and grey dress uniform of the Argentum complimented his broad shoulders and slim waist. He looked the epitome of an established commander. The thought filled me with both pride and concern. What would happen after tonight? If Zuli won the vote, how long would we have before she condemned the Purans? How long until Russo started his onslaught of revenge?

“Remi, are you listening?”

Snapping my attention to Saul’s unusually stern face, I straightened my shoulders. “I’ll stand over there, right?” I pointed to the wall near the edge of the stage, free from any other security personnel.

“Keep your earpiece active and report if you see anything suspicious.”

I nodded, turning to take my position.

The next hour dragged on. The evening was my idea of hell—a room full of pretentious socialites preening over each other to win votes. Governor Zuli sat at the table behind Torz, her smug face proving her confidence. How many voting officials had she blackmailed in the attempt to push her plans through office? How many had fallen under her spell and become sympathy voters? The thought made me livid.

The room fell silent as Titus’s Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Gloth, took the stage. I slouched against the wall as he delivered his speech to start the manifesto pledges, only to straighten my stance when a door in the corner, not far from where I stood,silently opened. Glancing in its direction, I blinked repeatedly, convinced I was seeing some kind of illusion.

There, standing with the perfected look of a pious deity, was the godly figure from my dreams—a sublime, realistic image from myth.

He’s not real. He can’t be.

Locking his vividly haunting eyes on me, amusement danced across his face. He strutted closer, his dark-purple tunic shimmering with otherworldly ripples under the weak, artificial lights. The closer he got, my adamance that he was a hallucination wavered.

He can’t be real.

But the way the light played across his porcelain features was too realistic, and a switch in my brain violently flicked on.

Tentatively, I walked over to intercept him. “What are you doing here?” My voice was low and discreet as I glanced at the government officials sitting close by. Thankfully, all were still engaged in Admiral Goth’s humorous speech.

“I’m here to cast my vote.”

Confused, I glared at the Damson God, shaking my head. “Your vote? How? You’re not real. You exist in mythical stories.”

“I also exist in your dreams, Remi.” With a taunting smirk, he stepped around me.

Intent on stopping whatever mischief he was alluding to initiate, I grabbed his arm, shocked to discover there was flesh and bone beneath the thick fabric.

“See?” Stalling his steps, he looked back at me. “I’m real.”

Fuck. What’s going on? How is he here?

I followed his gaze across the room to Torz and Marla, and a new, profound sense of dread flooded my veins. “Where are you going?”

“Did you know Marla Hyde is Governor Zuli’s favourite niece?”

What? Is she?

Losing my grip on his sleeve, I fumbled forward, gaining attention from a couple sitting at a table mere metres away.

I straightened. “Why does that matter to you?” I whispered to the silver-haired being whose presence was disturbing me more and more by the second.

“She’s interfering with my Damsons.” Flicking up the flaps of his tunic, he dislodged a gun from the waistband of his trousers. Panic launched through my body as his eyes darkened over his shoulder. “And that gives me warrant to end this absurd plan to poison my planet with unwanted flesh.”

As he strolled forward through the tables of guests, my feet became laden. I couldn’t move—too mystified by what was happening. Tapping my earpiece, I quietly alerted Saul to the imminent threat.

“Where?” Saul growled back, alarm lacing his tone. The room was dimly lit, and the harsh lights from the stage threw the security guards patrolling the walls into shadow. I had no idea where Saul was stationed. I hadn’t been listening earlier.

“Second aisle from the front, ten paces from me.”

“I can’t see anyone.”