"31 got away. The Crown was prepared."

—An intercepted text sent from an unknown number

Today was bad.

Other days were arguably worse, so much so that King Demitri had a hard time doing anything else but sleeping. Today, though, he wouldn't be able to escape the confines of his wheelchair.

Which meant he was stuck in his chambers. No one outside this small room could see him.

The Kingdom of Aeriana could never know of his true condition. They could not know he was sick. "It would incite panic," his friend, guard, and advisor, Reese Garrick, told him time and time again. "More than that, you'd be revealing your weakness to the snakes that oversee the territories."

But as the days went on, he spent less time up and walking. By the end of this month, his doctors warned, he may be on full-time bed rest.

Which was why they needed to come up with something. Now.

Time had him by the neck and slowly tightened around him, strangling his hope with him.

"Start prepping for the backup plan," Demitri told Reese that day. He sat in his wheelchair, looking out the large windows over the east garden. Though it was fall, the grounds below his chambers were awash with color. Winter had not yet sunk its deathly claws into the trees lining the marble fountain, nor had its poison nipped at the red and white blooms dotting the grassy trail.

"Your Majesty, I know it's not much, but we have someone who may—"

"No," Demitri said. The word came through tight teeth, and when it hit the air, it sent a spear through his chest. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't keep holding on to this hope. It did nothing but worsen his condition.

And remind him of all he'd once had.

"Prepare for it," Demitri said. "Call in Catalina and her wife. Make sure they arrive safely. Have the staff ready the west wing for their arrival."

Catalina was his cousin on his mother's side. The next in line for the throne. Their family had been decimated years ago, which had jumped Catalina up the line of succession.

She did not know that she would now have to run this Kingdom.

The cold fall sun cast over the garden below. "I've allowed myself to be stuck in a fantasy," Demitri told Reese softly. "It's about time I let reality in."

"Please don't lose hope entirely, Your Majesty."

A sad half-smile curled his lips as he flicked a glance at Reese. His advisor had been his greatest asset, his greatest friend for many, many years. Even before his own violent ascension to the throne, Reese Garrick had been here at the Second Palace, guiding his brother, the previous king, just the same.

It was why, when his days were over, he would make sure Reese and his descendants were well settled.

"Your loyalty has been an immeasurable treasure," Demitri said to the man standing tall and strong next to him. "But now I need an advisor. Not a friend. And an advisor would tell me to prepare, do you not think?"

Demitri could see the steel of Reese's jaw as he stared up at him. "I am tired, Reese," he said. The ache was a pulsing beat in his chest as he uncurled his desperate grip on the idea of a young woman defying all odds. Defying death itself. "We've done all we can. Now it is time to put it away."

"Your Majesty, what if we find—"

"No more," Demitri interrupted, quiet but strong. "I don't want to hear any more. I don't want to see any potential matches. Do you understand?"

A silent, steely beat. Then, "Understood, Your Majesty."

Demitri turned back to the window before him. He had a new hope now. A hope that during his limited number of days left, the ache in his chest would fade. That he could find some measure of peace before it was all over.

That a young girl with shining, joyous eyes and an unbreakable spirit would disappear from his memories.

~

There was blood on her sleeve. At first, she thought the dark smear against her black hoodie was water. But when she smoothed a hand over it, her glove came away spotted.

Wylan and Thad were having a conversation with Kit, whose voice came clearly through the speakers of the car.

"—don't have many options," Thad was saying. "They'll be monitoring the air traffic. Fake names or not, they'll have people in all the major airports on the lookout."

"Driving won't be much better," Wylan said.

"In any other instance, I'd recommend disappearing for a while," Kit said. "Right now they'll be on high alert and searching."

"We need to disappear," Wylan confirmed. "But we also need a distraction. Are they monitoring our movements?"

"Uncertain," Kit said.

The car hit a turn hard. Wylan braced a hand on the outside of her thigh to help lock her in place as the car hit a rough patch on the pavement. She tried to ignore the way the small action made her heart stutter.

Stop it, Iris, she scolded herself. This is the worst time for that.

Even if Wylan had ruggedly handsome features, now was not the time to be ogling him or his forearms.

She'd never been the type to even notice boys. Men. So why was Wylan any different? And why now?

It had to be a reaction to him saving her life. Some type of superhero complex or something. Right?

Right.

In the front seat, Thad shook his head, his dark hair swishing back and forth. He didn't have a seatbelt on. Instead, he braced his hand against the dashboard and sat, half-turned, in the passenger seat. "We don't have time."

"We have to make time," Wylan said, his eyes flicking to her. "Time doesn't matter if we're not safe."

At that, Thad turned around more. "We don't even know yet!" He gestured with his other hand to Iris.

As he turned, she got a better look at Thad. Noticed the blood at the corner of his lips. The dark spot along his cheekbone.

"Know what?" She asked.

Wylan ignored her.

She frowned at him. "You owe me an explanation," she said as the car slipped onto the highway. None of the Aces in the car were worried about being followed. Or if they were, they didn't show it.

She glanced out the back window.

Wylan caught her looking. "Kit's cut all the camera feeds for the hotel."

"I also activated the mobile phone jammer Wylan left in the room. Its radius is big enough to cover three blocks."

"That explains it." Thad clicked his tongue and sat forward again. "They were very disorganized."

Disorganized? That was disorganized?

"Who are they?"

"I will explain," Wylan told her. "Let us get you somewhere safe first."

Let us get you somewhere safe first.

What did they want from her? A couple of paintings?

"Is this like an underground art ring? Is someone taking out artists?" She couldn't wrap her head around any of it. What could anyone possibly want with little Iris? "Does the Crown want a piece made?"

Thad chuckled from the front seat. "I'm sure they'd love it."

She didn't appreciate being the brunt of a joke. Not now. Not after she'd just been freaking shot at multiple times. She grit her teeth.

As if he sensed her impending emotional explosion, Wylan nudged his shoulder against hers. He slanted a grin at her. "If you want me to hit Thad, all you have to do is ask."

"What?" Thad spluttered.

"I've got a house on the edge of Mountain Ridge. It's safe. There's a Loyalist in the area who can help," Kit said through the speakers. "Camila, I'm sending the location to your phone. Take a long ride before you get there." A pause, "oh, and, brother? Don't forget to report in when you get there."

Wylan grunted.

The phone clicked off.

Their quiet but competent driver moved the black sedan smoothly through the early morning traffic. As they travelled down the highway, more and more cars slid onto the highway. They got off at an exit, only to drive down to the next exit and get back on. They stopped at a gas station, sat at a pump, then continued onto the next.

The further they went, the heavier Iris' eyelids got. Her adrenaline had long since peaked and now she felt like she'd crashed back down.

She couldn't sleep, though. Not yet. Not with these people.

So she focused on something else. "You have blood on your sleeve," she told Wylan.

Wylan frowned down at his sleeve. "It's leather, it shouldn't—" He lifted his palm up and stopped.

Iris reached out to stop him from wiping it on his dark jeans. She turned his palm left and right, looking for the source. "Did you get hit?"

He tried to yank his hand from hers, but she refused to let him go. He'd used himself as a shield against the people trying to kill her. And though she was frustrated that she still did not know what was happening, he saved her life. Not once, but twice.

The blood was leaking down his arm from under the leather sleeve. "I think you need medical."

"I'll be fine," he murmured.

His voice was incredibly close to her ear. She glanced up, noticing how close they'd gotten. Barely more than a breath away, Iris was close enough that she could smell the combination of sweat and cologne drifting off of him.

And Wylan... he glanced right back down at her. Her focus locked on the even line of scruff along his jaw.

Her cheeks heated. With an awkward cough, she sat back. "Make sure you have someone look at that arm."

He rested an elbow on the door and propped his head on his uninjured side. "I'm sure I can do that."