"Evanna, keep your hands steady. You slip, and we’re both dead."
Lucien’s voice sliced through the suffocating silence, his tone sharp, as if he relished reminding me how precarious my position was.
My fingers trembled, gripping the sapphire extractor as the glowing gemstone shimmered beneath layers of glass and metal.
"I’m steady," I replied, my voice betraying the knot of dread twisting in my gut.
The vault’s oppressive heat, combined with the weight of Lucien’s gaze, made my skin crawl.
The plan was flawless on paper, but down here, with Damien standing guard and the seconds ticking louder than my heartbeat, it felt more like a suicide mission than a heist.
"Good," Lucien murmured, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "You know what happens if you mess this up."
He didn’t need to elaborate. I already knew—the cold steel of consequences that awaited failure.
Lucien's threats weren’t just words; they were promises, and he never broke a promise.
The extractor clicked into place, the sapphire glowing brighter with each passing second.
I forced myself to focus, blocking out Damien’s occasional pacing and the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. He didn’t trust me. No one did.
Just a pawn, I thought bitterly. That’s all I was to Lucien—a disposable piece on his blood-stained chessboard.
"Do you ever get tired of playing God, Lucien?" I asked, keeping my tone light.
"God? Hardly," Lucien replied with a laugh, dark and hollow. "I’m just the one holding the strings."
My grip faltered, the extractor slipping slightly. Damien was at my side in an instant, his hand clamping down on my wrist like a vice.
His grey eyes burned into mine, more storm than calm.
"Focus, Evanna," he hissed. "You’re no good to us dead."
His touch was colder than the vault’s icy surface, yet his words carried a strange weight. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if Damien was warning me or himself.
The sapphire came loose with a final hiss, and I held it up, its brilliance painting the room in eerie blues.
Relief washed over me, only to be crushed as Lucien stepped forward, his eyes narrowing.
"Perfect," he said, taking the sapphire from my hand. But his gaze lingered, assessing me like a predator sizing up its next meal. "Maybe you’re not entirely useless after all."
I bit back a retort, knowing it would only amuse him. Lucien thrived on control, and defiance was his favorite game.
We exited the vault, Damien stayed close, his presence both a shield and a reminder of the chains binding me to Lucien’s schemes.
But it wasn’t until later, as I stood outside the safe house, that I overheard the conversation that shattered the fragile ground beneath me.
"She’s done her part," Alana’s voice drifted through the half-open door, low and venomous. "We can get rid of her now."
"Not yet," Lucien replied. "She’s useful, for now."
The words hit like a blade between my ribs, cutting deep. So that was it—useful until I wasn’t. A pawn to be sacrificed the moment I outlived my worth.
"And when she’s not?" Alana pressed.
"Then she disappears," Lucien said coldly.
My chest tightened, anger and betrayal simmering just beneath the surface. I wanted to storm in, confront them, but the rational part of me held back.
This wasn’t the time to act on emotion. Not yet.
Later that night, as the city’s neon glow spilled through the cracked blinds, Damien found me sitting alone.
His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his posture spoke volumes.
"You overheard, didn’t you?" he asked quietly.
I didn’t answer, but the look I gave him was enough.
"Lucien’s a bastard," Damien said, surprising me. "But you don’t have to let him win."
"And what would you suggest?" I asked, bitterness lacing my words. "Run? Fight? End up like the others who crossed him?"
Damien’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might walk away. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"You have a choice, Evanna. Be the victim, or fight back."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises and the weight of consequences.
For the first time, I saw something in Damien’s eyes that wasn’t cold indifference.
"What’s it going to be?" he asked, his gaze piercing through the walls I’d built around myself.
I didn’t answer—not yet. But as I met his eyes, a flicker of resolve ignited within me.
If Lucien thought I was just a pawn, he was about to learn the hard way that even pawns could take down kings.
