The shadows flashed and danced across Avery's terrible face as she remained in the gloomy corridor, holding her breath in expectation. Whispers of unrest had begun to circulate around Blackthorn's underbelly, but they were more pronounced tonight. Tonight she felt it; the air was thick with betrayal. The Puppet's net was finally unraveling, his kingdom splintering under the weight of deception, desperation, and greed.
Lucas Sterling stepped into the room, his jaw hard and his eyes darker than she'd ever seen. Avery's fists twitched on the blade she carried at her side, her body automatically bracing for the worst. Damien leaned against the wall, a sneer touching his lips as he searched the room, examining every shift and breath like a predator.
"The whole thing's in chaos," Lucas murmured, raking his hand through his hair. "The Puppet master's enterprise is crumbling."
Damien's grin broadened. "Isn't that exactly what we wanted?" "Chaos has become the endgame."
