The ballroom had not yet recovered from the chaos when Kristen gave the order. His voice was cold, clipped, a blade slicing through the hum of frightened whispers.

“We’re leaving.”

I almost staggered at how final the words sounded. It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a decree. And though no one dared challenge him, the weight of every pair of eyes burned into me. Not him. Me.

I could still feel the tremor of that assassin’s head bowed low before me, the way silence had swallowed ...