The world settled into a deep, aching quiet, disturbed only by the low groans of those around the snow-laden clearing. The frozen river cutting through it sparkled under the clear sky of night, the storm dissipated with whatever force had conjured it—likely a certain black-eyed woman she’d briefly met earlier that night.

  Black shivered with the echoes of a dying fable realm running through her bones. She could feel eyes on her from within the forest, or…more specifically, the rats hiding in the forest could feel them. She was observing them.

  Holding a closed fist against her chest, Black’s heart thumped as she looked down at her operational partner, resting her head in her lap. She’d known Red for over a decade, both of them being under the Scarlet Hand’s manipulations in the Fable experiment.

  So…this is what she meant. Everything came full circle. How long did she know? Does Rachel know? No, if she did know… She’s going to find out, though.

  Glancing around the clearing, Black felt the weight of skin and bones, wrapping around her. An electrical current surging through her nerve system as one of her rats forged his way through the snow to huddle next to her thigh, whispering his report.

  Dark, chirping-like whispers that passed between the very trees that observed her spies.

  Rachel is looking in the wrong direction… But for how long?

  No, the weight wasn’t from the horrific entity hiding within the folds of the forest.

  It wasn’t from Green, still trying to come to grips with how close it had been for all of them.

  Not from Gray, who was shaking it off and moving to comfort the Ali Baba family.

  Not from the two prisoners or El Santo, who guarded them.

  No, the darkness in the distance constricting her chest came from the way she’d been living… From Rachel. And all from a certain meeting she’d had shortly after her visit with the hare in an alleyway, before all of this insanity with Ali Baba’s realm.

  She looked up, the burden of what she’d done and how she’d lived pressing in. The snow had returned, a stark contrast to the cosmic chaos and desert they had left behind. Their fight through it had seemed to last days, yet, in reality, hardly any time at all had elapsed with the thick, icy veil covering the ground—crisp, undisturbed, and indifferent to what had transpired.

  Russia has already made their move… But how this ends, I don’t know. Did I have a choice at all? Fate’s strings puppetting me as the rats I control… In the end, what does it matter? Deep down, I try…so hard. I’ve hidden all of my sins from the daylight. For what in the end?

  Her rat crawled into her sleeve, shivering and relaying more information through her expansive network and Black adjusted her kneeling position in the shin-deep snow. Her breath was visible in the frozen air as she shifted Red’s head against her lap. The woman barely stirred, her body still caught in the exhaustion of channeling the totality of the Big Bad Wolf’s power, enhanced by Rachel’s Eldritch powers.

  Green staggered up to join Gray, oblivious to her inner struggle. Pale flames ignited in the man’s hands to warm the Ali Baba family, ascertaining how they were doing. The weight of survival pressed on most of them. However, tears of loss and heartache came from the three surviving members.

  Ali Baba was gone. Whether dead, lost, or something in between, no one likely knew, including Rachel herself. But his wife, Morgiana, and his son remained, standing not far from the others, huddled close. Black’s eyes flickered over them briefly before returning to the scene before her.

  Rachel had already left, dragging Grace along with her, some kind of earring clutched between her fingers. Calling someone. Calling her.

  Black let out a slow breath and rubbed her hands while smiling down at Red, dread gradually settling into her stomach in a way few things had.

  You’re supposed to be the stupid one, Red…rushing into things, attacking what I point to as if my innocent puppy. I messed up… I wanted to think it was her. I messed up. Everyone… I caused everything.

  She knew how this was supposed to spiral. She knew what Rachel should be setting into motion. Where it would lead. Yet, when dealing with the Hare of Misfortune, nothing typically worked out as she expected.

  Green struggled to push herself up, shaking off the fatigue gripping her limbs. “Rachel’s right, we need to call the General,” she muttered, glancing down at her mostly destroyed outfit and lost supplies. “I’m guessing Rachel’s misfortune was at work keeping me alive…at the cost of my dignity. At least I wasn’t alone,” she mumbled with a small laugh, glancing at the nearly naked man who didn’t look so bothered.

  Gray gave the tearful wife of Ali Baba a reassuring smile before turning his calculating eyes to El Santo, the princess, and dark djinn. “This isn’t over. Rachel still has a debt to settle for what happened to her brother.”

  Black’s lips drew in as their current leader continued.

  “In any case…we first need to get off this damn mountain and report in. Green?”

  The hardened soldier immediately shook her head and pointed at her quaking legs. “I can barely stand after saving your ass so many times. Black, is Red okay? She doesn’t have a single scratch on her, which is…weird.”

  “She had a specific mission, and yes, Red is fine,” she replied, sounding distant as her thoughts darted between points that connected, dot by dot. “El Santo would be the best one of us to deliver the message, unless you’re—”

  The burned and scarred man pushed himself up with a big grin, flexing his muscular, bare chest while interchanging Spanish like Maria. “No need to ask! This dama, though a criminal, is quite troubled by the elements. I shall bring her into custody if you shall hold onto the evil smoke monster, se?or.”

  Gray gave him a thumbs up. “We’ll be behind you. Send a helicopter when you find a radio.”

  “Will do! Let us be off, princesa! Hot chocolate and interrogations await!”

  “Eek!”

  Princess Layla squeaked as the giant man swept the young woman off her feet and began running off at an unreasonable pace for how much damage the folk hero had sustained. A testament to his Legendary status.

  Black tuned them out. The conversations, the planning, the aftermath—they were all just distractions from the real issue at hand. Everything had spun out of control, just as she had expected, but now she had to decide if she was still on the right side of this game.

  Black’s fingers tapped idly against the hilt of her dagger within her cloak, the rhythm methodical, steady as she stared down at Red’s peaceful face. Her mind drifted to a conversation she had pushed aside, one that now surfaced with quiet insistence.

  I got everything wrong, Little Red… It’s not my fault…but it is. Where am I supposed to go from here? I don’t know… I think I’m lost.

  On their journey up to the odd cabin, Red had asked her where the hell she kept disappearing to?

  The first time, it had been to meet Rachel. The second, she had slipped away from Red and Gray in the alleyway, before Rachel’s battle with Green. She recalled Red’s scowl, her grip tightening on her axe.

  The memories resurfaced, as if she were reliving those moments, when the snow had been lighter. Before all the sins of her past began to resurface in a string of colliding events that seemed to be perfect—like fate was pulling her strings.

  Flakes of crystalized water fell over her hood as she handed Gray her report on Rachel and Elizabeth’s Legend Quest. He quietly took it and began flipping through, scanning each page under the faint light that bled into the passage from the lamp posts.

  A squeak brought her gaze to the gutter, where a rat exited, frantic and worried. Bending down, she picked up the small creature, listening to her tale. Her whispers made a curious tilt twist her lips as she soothed the creature.

  She’s here? That is not a coincidence. The timing is questionable.

  She turned away from the pair, preparing to leave. The man didn’t try to stop her, his expression unreadable as Black adjusted the buttons of her coat and walked off.

  She didn’t get far.

  Red huffed, hitting her in the back of the head with a snowball and making her turn with a strained smile.

  “Red…”

  The woman’s narrowed eyes fixated on her from under her crimson hood, suspicion heavy in her tone. “And where exactly are you running off to this time? Obviously not Rachel. You always have a meeting today! Why can’t I come this time?”

  “Because it’s personal, and I go to these meetings because there’s always something worth knowing,” Black answered, noncommittal, adjusting her coat and shaking off the snow. “I already have an idea how the fight will go anyway, and this is important.”

  “Yeah?” Red’s gaze had burned into her back as she turned away again, Gray flipping through the report with a deep frown. “It can’t be with Astra or Rachel since I already smell them on you and the hare is off fighting the hare. I’ll know when you come back, so what’s the point?”

  Black only gave a small, knowing smile before vanishing into the shadows.

  It would be awkward if you could. I’ll have to talk to her about that.

  A group of soldiers drove her where she wanted to go. Thanking them, she got out and the vehicle she’d taken sped off into the worsening blizzard as Black entered the deeper shadows. Snow drifted lazily through the dim alleyways she passed through, the city lights barely reaching the damp cobblestones. Where her rats waited to report.

  The rats stirred at her presence, their tiny feet scratching against stone as they scurried closer. Black crouched, extending a gloved hand as one particularly bold rodent climbed onto her palm, whiskers twitching. It chittered, rapid and frantic, as the others swarmed the base of her boots, their squeaks overlapping in a chaotic symphony of intelligence only she could parse.

  Why is she here? I don’t hear her voice inside, which means she’s hiding her cadence from Rachel… Smart. But that’s like Aurora. Black’s brows furrowed, though. To show up here after disappearing in Elizabeth’s Legend Quest? Rachel said she just vanished on her own…which shouldn’t have been possible without Elizabeth. The timing is…uncanny.

  The little rat tugged on a loose thread of her glove, insistent.

  “She’s seen you watching her, has she?” Black murmured in their language, voice just low enough for her informants alone. “Of course, she has.”

  The rat gave an affirmative squeak before leaping off her hand and vanishing into the cracks of the crumbling alleyway wall.

  She straightened, exhaling a slow breath into the cold night air.

  Rachel’s right. Aurora is something dangerous, and the fact she’s here… That she made a deal with me before Elizabeth’s masquerade can’t be a coincidence. Not like I can back out, she internally sighed at her inability to break contracts, fingers returning to the dagger hidden in her coat. The question is, why does she want that information now? I don’t like it.

  Adjusting her coat, Black stepped forward, her path winding through the alleyway toward the Smuggler’s Haven Bar. It didn’t take long for her to reach the front.

  The bar loomed ahead, tucked away at the end of a narrow, ice-laden street. It was the kind of place that smelled of damp wood, stale liquor, and quiet desperation—the place soldiers went to at the edge of town that was away from the general military officers. The owner’s brother was stationed here and was operating it…with benefits.

  At least, that’s what her rats told her from what went on behind closed doors.

  She slipped inside unnoticed, the door swinging shut behind her with a muted creak. Warmth coiled around her skin, the dim lantern light casting long shadows over the mismatched tables and hunched military figures nursing their drinks.

  Conversations hummed in low murmurs. A flick of her eyes took in the room—soldiers, smugglers, runners, and drunks, none of them the person she was looking for.

  But then…

  Laughter.

  Soft, lilting, too carefully timed to be genuine.

  Just enough of a variance to throw Rachel off.

  Aurora.

  She was tucked away in the farthest corner, surrounded by a small knot of soldiers, her form wrapped in a cloak that was just ordinary enough to belong—except, it didn’t.

  Black had spent enough time around deception to recognize theatrics when she saw them.

  Aurora didn’t hide; she orchestrated. Every flick of her fingers, every tilt of her head—it was designed to pull eyes toward her while making it seem effortless, unintentional.

  And, somehow, the woman had gained the ability to shift her appearance, now looking like a young, Asian, college girl.

  A game of control.

  Black moved to a nearby table, listening intently. Aurora’s honeyed words were laced with just enough truth to sound real. The story of a lost girl in the storm, looking for someone to save her. The soldiers were eating it up, buying her food and drinks to keep her talking, to keep her hypnotizing them.

  However, not several seconds after Black entered was she exiting her enthralled audience, turning them away with only a few words that brought all eyes on her. Black’s ears lifted slightly, a low growl rumbling in her throat as nearly every person fixated on her—it was something out of a horror movie.

  The woman’s head lifted ever so slightly before she finished her sentence, flashing an easy, lazy smile toward the men around her. Aurora giggled, rising to her feet while gripping her elbow behind her back. “If you’ll excuse me, I just spotted the very friend I was telling you about!”

  She walked straight toward the table, hooves, not boots, whispering over the floorboards, hidden beneath her trailed dress.

  Then, just as smoothly, she approached her table with a shift in cadence that spoke of unbridled class. “Oh,” Aurora purred, amusement threading through her voice as she peeked under her hood. “Fancy meeting you here, Black.”

  Liar. This is a setup.

  Black ignored the pleasantries. “Let’s move to the corner table.”

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  Aurora let out a small, delighted laugh. “Oh, darling, so forward! Not even a drink first?” She sighed, placing a delicate hand to her chest, she followed as if a snake charmed by the piper. “I’d be offended if I didn’t find you so charmingly predictable.”

  Black’s fingers twitched at her side.

  “I don’t have time for your theatrics. Your king sent you, didn’t he?”

  Aurora arched a brow, looking deeply, mockingly wounded. “Maybe. And theatrics are what make life interesting, don’t you think? Right or wrong, beautiful things attract scrutiny. Attraction is a game. The more one stands out, the grander the stage, where you can be noticed and adored…”

  She spun in a slow circle to take in the whole room, every eye fixated on her.

  A wink and a giggle.

  “Or…tragically forgotten.” And every head turned away, as if they didn’t exist. Her lips curved as she leaned in slightly, voice lowering just enough for only Black to hear. “And here I thought you enjoyed a good performance. Rachel loves my dances.”

  Enough.

  She exhaled through her nose when the succubus paused a few paces away. Black took a seat in the far corner—the only one that was empty, and likely by design.

  “Are you coming willingly, or am I dragging you?”

  “Oh! You’re offering?” Aurora considered her for a beat, green eyes flickering with something too amused, too knowing that slid over her figure. “I would love to hear your lovely music directed solely at me, but…perhaps we are on somewhat of a schedule.”

  Then, with a slow, exaggerated sigh, the woman glided forward. She swept past, her movements fluid, languid—a dancer performing on a stage no one else could see. The moment her fingers slid along the back of the chair, all noise in the bar seemed to die, causing Black’s ears to fly up.

  A shimmer ran through the air—subtle, a shift in perception rather than a physical transformation. Black had seen illusions before. She’d never seen one so effortless.

  The cloak of pretty-ordinariness around the Asian facade faded, revealing what lay beneath. Aurora, in her untouched, ethereal beauty. And for just a fraction of a second, Black felt how dangerous of a creature—a Myth—she was sitting across from.

  It wasn’t just her features—it was the way she existed.

  Something unreal.

  Something that shouldn’t be, like Rachel’s exotic beauty.

  She was too —not the kind of beauty born, but the kind crafted. Shimmering white locks, shifting between gold and silver under the dim light. Her emerald eyes gleamed too sharp, too knowing. Her skin, untouched by flaw or time, held an ethereal glow, making everything around her seem dull in comparison. A single, golden, dangling earring in her right earlobe. A blinding rose on her dress, leaves bound in her perfect hair, and jade dress something out of fantasy.

  She didn’t just exist—she commanded reality around her as if it were her right. As if reality was her stage. No single feature was exaggerated, yet the sum of them was unnerving, like a statue carved to be almost human.

  Black’s fingers twitched. What caused Mythickin to become like this? The work it took for us to become Fablekin required immense pressure on the Scarlet Hand’s part. Legends have their strengths, but Myths seem…like a totally different breed. Not real…but I suppose Myths rarely are. And there are some exceptions. Then again, maybe it’s just because I’m comparing them to Rachel, which is on another level. Aurora and Rachel are just…Not real. But myths rarely are.

  Black grunted. “Are you following me?”

  Aurora’s lips curved, brushing a strand of white-gold hair behind her ear. “Subtlety is for those who lack flair, my depressing rat. Can you have no entertainment or fun in life?”

  “Not when I’m meeting someone, who I shouldn’t be when Rachel’s in town. Is it your intent to expose our deal to her and what you’re after? It cannot be a coincidence that the Mexican government sent their fancy new airship here.”

  Aurora’s smile sharpened.

  “Oh, Black.” She whispered, resting her chin on the back of her bridged hands and staring directly into her eyes. “You wound me. I know exactly how to stay out of my best friend’s abnormally large ears. I wish I could see them twitching to my name. She doesn’t realize how adorable she looks when she smells blood.”

  “I’m not here to feed into your fantasies. Whatever dance is happening between you and Rachel is your own business, so long as it doesn’t interfere with Fable. I’m just here to fulfill my end of our agreement. After that, I hope to never see you again.”

  Aurora tilted her head on her hands, eyes gleaming with that ever-present mischief. “Playing hard to get is certainly one way to get my heart skipping. We should have a girls night out. I could make you blossom with the right fashion and stage. You don’t trust me, do you?”

  Black reached into her coat, pulling out a small leather-bound book, flipping it open with deliberate ease. “I don’t trust anyone. You can’t manipulate me into your games through ego, like Rachel, and get me to play your…chess game,” she added, giving her a dull stare while referencing Rachel’s first interactions with the succubus vampire. “You already delivered your part of the deal in Elizabeth’s party. And I have what you were looking for. Do you want the schematics, security, and where to get the materials or not?”

  Aurora laughed, eyes half-lidded and showing a darker cast to her smile. Black didn’t blink but with every word, the threads started to wrap around her throat.

  “Oh, are you referring to the Magi Bombs and airships the Mexicans are making? Darling, haven’t you realized it yet? I knew about that project since before I commissioned you to research it. It was my associate who organized it all. But…did my contract come in handy when your other client…

  “Ah, and there it is.” One eye closing, she unlinked her fingers, putting two together to aim at her like a gun. “Bang! This is what makes you so fun to toy with. On another note, I heard my favorite hare has gotten her hands on a cowgirl. I wonder if I could steal her hat before I go?”

  She couldn’t respond to her taunts and the succubus just went right on chatting.

  “Anyway, I wanted to see her duke it out with Green—seeing two hares boxing each other—but I suppose I’ll have to settle with the recorded televised version. What, have I stolen your tongue?” she giggled. “I have that kind of effect.”

  Black felt the sweat gathering under her armpits. This…was a setup? Before the masquerade. Before meeting Rachel. Before everything… She knows about my contract with Russia to support us against the Scarlet Hand? She put me on the Mexican schematics before I was even contracted by them? Did she direct them to me in the first place?

  “…What’s your game, Aurora?”

  Black’s throat constricted momentarily as movement out of the corner of her eye made her glance toward the door. A shiver ran through her spine, the rats she had around the bar freezing as if put in a trance. The new feminine figure was small, dressed in clothes that appeared more suited to a .

  Pale white skin, dark lipstick, and pure black eyes fixated on them at the table—another disguised creature.

  Time paused.

  Her heart beat faster.

  A trap?

  Then, the entity turned toward the bar and glided forward, long, midnight locks weaving behind her. Not a soul looked at her, excluding the bartender who appeared to have a silent conversation with the figure.

  “See, isn’t this fun?” Black snapped back to the woman in front of her, suppressing a gulp. Aurora’s Japanese-style hair pin’s sharp point was held lazily at her throat. In the next instant, the succubus was pulling back with a chuckle, tapping it against the table. “Tell me honestly, how many people have managed to trip you up so badly?”

  “This…would be a first,” Black muttered, shifting her hands into her book, nestled in her lap, and now kicking herself for not bringing Red this time, no matter the awkwardness of it all. “We made this deal before I knew you’d be at Elizabeth’s masquerade or were even connected to the Scarlet Hand’s Scotland network. Were you manipulating me from the start?”

  Aurora’s grin widened, following her gaze back to the amish-dressed woman, as if sizing up her next meal. “Does it matter?”

  Black’s grip on the book tightened. “Depends on your answer. But whatever it is, I always deliver on my contracts… Whether I like my clients or not.”

  Aurora twirled the pin between her fingers, eyes gleaming with mischief as Black slid a folded slip of paper across the table. Without hesitation, the woman speared it onto the tip, holding it up like a prize, twisting it this way and that with a thoughtful hum.

  Her smirk sharpened. “ I merely dance between eligible partners, my dear. Don’t you do the same?”

  “But why ask for something you already knew?”

  “Oh, Black, do I really need a grand scheme? Maybe I just wanted to see you. Flirt a little. Cause a little chaos.” She bared her teeth in a fox-like grin. “Do I need a better reason?”

  Black exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. “That’s not a mission objective. That’s just your natural state—like breathing. Or dancing through whatever mess you’ve orchestrated.”

  Aurora’s laughter was soft, teasing, like she was savoring a private joke. “For such a clever little rat, you still missed the bigger picture, didn’t you? Don’t feel bad, though. Even Rachel wants to strangle me. Isn’t that a compliment?”

  Black blinked once. Slow. Measured. Her patience thinned to a razor’s edge.

  “…If you say so.”

  Aurora leaned in, voice dipping just above a whisper, silk threaded with steel. “Careful, Black. Past deals have a habit of torching future bridges. There are some things that a girl might burn an entire realm for… So many deals you’ve made to advance White’s agendas so Ms. Snow White’s pure hands won’t get dirty. So you lie, lie, lie… Would you even kill Red for the cause?”

  Black’s fingernails grew sharp as she tapped once against the table, wearing a testing smile she had only given five people in her entire life. “Are you planning on setting this one ablaze?”

  A spark of challenge lit in Aurora’s eyes. “Oh, Black… My song endures. Don’t pretend you don’t want to hear it. Don’t bury thoughts that you really want,” she purred, her fingers trailing lightly along the table’s edge, slow, deliberate—a siren drawing in her prey. “I am not the flames to consume the bridge…but the water to save it… You will know my song before morning comes.”

  She tilted her head, emerald eyes laced with challenge.

  “What if I offered you another deal? One sure to be quite…controversial and spark all sorts of chaos, but will save Fable.”

  Black’s tail twitched against her leg, grip tightening at the edge of her book. Pulse thrumming in a steady, measured beat, she refused to let it accelerate.

  Aurora’s challenge hung between them like the lingering echo of a dissonant note, teasing, taunting, wrapping around her like the fine strands of a spider’s web. Every action she’d taken during Elizabeth’s masquerade spun in her mind.

  Rachel was dangerously clever, resourceful, and intelligent, yet this woman had evaded her as if it were all a game. Black knew it. Felt it. She was already caught, already tangled in a complex string of events, and the worst part was she didn’t even know when it had happened. It was as if…it were fated.

  A slow breath. The paper Aurora had speared on her pin wavered in the air, the faintest tilt of her wrist making it sway like a pendulum. Not a single unnecessary movement—everything she did was a performance. A game.

  Her perfect smile, offering shared poison to drink from the same vine.

  Black didn’t respond immediately. A mistake. That flicker of hesitation gave Aurora all she needed. The succubus tilted her head, eyes glinting with the kind of amusement that meant she’d just found a new move to make.

  Checkmate.

  Then, without another word, Black slid her chair back, the legs scraping softly against the worn wooden floor. “We’re done here.”

  Aurora sighed, almost disappointed. “So cold, Black. You’re such a tsundere. Don’t think you’re not cute!” But she let the paper drop, it floated to land atop the book in Black’s lap. “For now, at least. But don’t be surprised if I ask for an encore to give you a grand finale on stage.”

  Black didn’t acknowledge the parting quip. She was already standing, adjusting the hood of her coat, her posture easy, controlled. No one watching would’ve guessed her heart was still hammering in her chest.

  Her steps were slow as she crossed the bar, weaving through oblivious soldiers and weapons smugglers who no longer noticed them—glamoured by some succubus charm.

  I thought no one was on Rachel’s level after what she did in Elizabeth’s Legend Quest…but maybe I was wrong. There is a game being played that is at a level I’m only now seeing… Does Rachel know about it? Maybe she does, and that’s why she’s pushed so hard to get stronger…

  Black paused as the unnatural creature sitting at the bar stirred, her long fingers curling around the rim of a glass she hadn’t sipped from. The illusion was airtight, seamless. Black felt a new wave settle over her now that Aurora’s fevered attention wasn’t on her; it was like the weight of drowning in cold waters, something vast and incomprehensible pressing in from all sides.

  There’s no mistaking this feeling… Like the creatures we fought during Elizabeth’s quest. The Eldritch, but also something…else.

  Sweat slid down her back as the thing’s void-black eyes lifted and she slid off her seat. It was as if chittering insects began to vibrate the air, no one but her noticing the two supernatural women in the bar. No one but her and her rats, their senses shared with hers, showing the twisted outline of what lay beneath the skin suit. The dread poured into her soul when her identity scratched her brain like a crooked fingernail.

  A hag…

  Just as the creature passed by, her hollow pits showed a hint of predatory yellow, flicking to her with a doll-like smile. She grazed by her, cutting through the air like the slow, inevitable drag of a knife across skin.

  Not a single muscle twitched in Black’s expression.

  The hag walked past her without pause, leaving her feeling this unusual, uncomfortable ease, as if everything would be alright—the hag didn’t exist.

  But…she did.

  A message passed between them.

  No words exchanged, but heard, nonetheless.

  A whisper slithered through her mind like fingers pressing against her throat. A cold and honeyed, rot at the edges, curling between her ribs like a second breath.

  “Careful, sweetie. You’re gnawing at strings you can’t see…and Fate has such delicate fingers. Lucky for you, we still have a use for you.”

  The pressure of something vast, unseen, pressed against the walls of her mind. Black’s grip twitched on the hilt of her dagger, the words digging deep, curling into the spaces between her lungs.

  Her hands stayed loose, her breath steady. The only sign of strain was the faintest rigidity in her tail, stiff beneath her cloak. The urge to look back crawled up her spine, but she buried it, kept walking, out the door and into the crisp night air.

  A chill ran down her spine.

  What would happen when she left?

  Would anyone be left alive?

  Did it matter?

  Her tail was tied.

  Aurora, what the hell are you playing at? That isn’t just any hag from a fable… That’s something…else.

  The answer wouldn’t come now. It didn’t matter. The damage was already done, the game already in motion. Black exhaled, the cold biting at her lungs, and started back toward the bar. After a moment, she turned away. She had things to do.

  Not soon after, Gray called, telling her they were heading toward the mountains. He’d gotten a tip about a Scarlet Hand storage house.

  Pausing, Black agreed and went to meet him.

  Who told Gray that? How am I so far behind?

  With one command, her rats scattered to gather information.

  Rachel is making moves on her own. Should I confide in her? Maybe once we get a chance to talk privately. But…Aurora’s warning about burning bridges. I hate how cryptic she was…as if all the pieces will fall into place soon enough. The real question…is Aurora working with Astra, the Scarlet Hand, or…someone else? I don’t get it.

  Her jaw tightened. Was Aurora working against her? Or was she playing her own game, separate from Scotland’s interests? The thought unsettled her. Set her teeth on edge. Aurora moved with a confidence that suggested she didn’t fear being exposed to Rachel. And that in itself, frustratingly, made her hesitate.

  I can’t expose her without implicating myself… Shit.

  The realization settled like lead in her stomach. No matter which way she twisted the board, Aurora had positioned herself perfectly… Again. Rachel made it very clear to Astra what she expected.

  Memories settling back down, Black brushed Red’s loose locks out of her face and suppressed the fearful quivers attempting to run down her tail.

  Shit. Shit… Shit. So, this was what Aurora meant…

  I gave Russia the plans for the airship and how the bombs worked. And it’s obvious what they did with that… Knew Astra to steal it and has Hassan intercept it, then bomb Rachel’s brother to distract her…putting the heat on the Scarlet Hand. Why? No, I know why… So they could steal the U.S. secrets General Dallas has been keeping… I committed treason.

  Rachel destroyed an entire Fable realm in her warpath… What is burning the bridge with a random rat girl…or Fable itself?

  She swallowed, her tail twitching in the snow. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly, utterly alone. Little Red, what have I done?

  Her ears flicked at the low sound of voices ahead. The clearing came into view, snow-packed and the others preparing to leave.

  Gray stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes locked on her defocused face. He was sharp and observant. Luckily, Rachel’s devastation was more than enough of an excuse to let her subtle quakes slide without question. His gaze was on her partner.

  “She’s still out. Should I carry her down?”

  Black’s focus drifted down to Red’s sleeping face, the peaceful slack of her expression. But her mind wasn’t in the present. It was still with Aurora. Still with that damn question.

  Would you kill Red for Fable?

  Would I?

  I don’t know… I don’t know. And I hate that… What way should I go?

  Somehow, Aurora had slipped under her skin, pressing on things she hadn’t even realized she was keeping buried. That was what made her dangerous. Not her magic, not her flirting games—her swallowing control.

  Black’s tail flicked sharply, pushing the thoughts away.

  Focus.

  Her ears twitched, catching the distant hum of a familiar voice. Light, teasing, just the faintest whisper of a song curling through the edges of reality. Her eyes lifted to the heavens, the first signs of daylight chasing away the dark showing. A song she was told would come before dawn—Aurora was waiting with her deal.

  Black exhaled, nodded, and shifted to allow the man to hoist her into his arms.

  “Take her back to the hotel.”

  Gray raised a brow. “You’re leaving? Got a lead on something?”

  “Possibly, but it will take too long to explain.”

  He studied her for the briefest of moments, then smiled.

  “Don’t be too long.”

  “Understood. I’ll be back soon.”

  She turned, walking into the dark forest before anyone else could ask another question, the snow crunching beneath her boots.

  She had to get answers to the luring questions dancing around her skull.

  And a certain, smiling harbinger of chaos was on her list of visits.

  The question was, would Rachel be there?

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