Chapter 24 · The Forbidden Gala

"You look like a sacrificial lamb in that silk, Alice. Or maybe just a very expensive corpse."

Caine’s voice slid over me like oil. He didn't even look at me while he adjusted his cufflink, his reflection in the gilded mirror smug and polished. We were in the holding suite of the Imperial Palace. I was wearing a gown that cost more than a provincial village, but the silk felt like a shroud.

I didn't flinch. I stepped closer, the train of my dress hissing against the marble. "And you look like a man who’s forgotten how quickly a lamb can grow teeth."

He finally turned. His eyes scanned me with a slow, clinical hunger. He reached out, his thumb grazing the line of my jaw. He pressed just hard enough to leave a mark—a reminder of who held the leash.

"The Council doesn't care about your teeth, darling," he whispered. "They care about the system you're hiding. Give it to me, and maybe I'll let you keep your tongue."

I jerked my head back. A sharp laugh escaped my throat. "You'll have to rip it out yourself."

"Feisty." A dark glint hit his eyes.