Bound by Prophecy

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-three

Edges

She was wearing the same clothes I'd left her in, her white Henley smeared with dirt and blood, and she'd slammed into the conference hall much in the way she'd slammed into that warehouse on our first meeting. Morgan froze, visibly stunned, and there I sat, once again caught, bound, and powerless to sway her.

My gaze shot to Logan in a silent attempt for assistance, to beg him to remove her, but he just lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. Brendan looked furious, the rest of the room simply confused.

Recognition dawned on Morgan's face, and he smiled, abruptly returning to his show. "Ah, and here's the infamous sister. Such a pleasure you could join us."

The implication in his tone tore through me and I was suddenly sitting upright, struggling vainly against my bonds. He would use her now. He would have Brianna.

Damn it, why had she come? It had been the one thing that kept me sound. The chosen was protected. Emily was safe.

Morgan turned and stepped closer to the edge of the platform, and the first drops of blood seeped through my fisted palms as they writhed beneath the restraints.

"No," I hissed at Morgan's back. "Leave them be."

He didn't turn but I could see the side of his jaw flex as his grin increased.

"Take the trade," Emily said levelly from across the room. "If he dies here today, you will never get Brianna."

Gods, what was she doing? She meant to threaten him?

"Well, well," Morgan hummed. "What a puerile group of admirers you have here, brother. "He glanced over his shoulder at me, both of us knowing they were at his mercy. Neither of us doubting every single one would soon die. "Kind of pathetic, isn't it?"

"Let them go, Morgan," I said. "Let them go and I will follow you. I will submit."

He smirked at the desperation in my voice, my clenched teeth. His gaze fell briefly to the blood trickling down my palms to pool on the floor, but he wasn't concerned that I might escape.

"So," Morgan said for the crowd, "you come here to make demands of me, little commonblood."

Emily stepped forward, separating herself from the crowd at the entrance, centering her position between the Council men lining the walls. "I am giving you your last chance," Emily said. She stared, unshaken, at the man who had killed her mother. The man who had held her mother captive, forced her into the only choice that could save her daughters' lives.

Morgan shook his head, disbelief clear in his tone. "You people stand here as if you have some kind of say in the matter." He gestured toward the door, the men lining the walls. "Do you think I've not covered these rooms with the highest security? Do you think I've not filled those halls with guns, with trained men who plan to stop each of you from leaving the property?" His voice dropped to a deadly tone. "Do you think that I cannot move you all at my will?"

Emily took a deep breath, and then gripped the handle of a blade that was strapped beneath the front hem of her shirt. Four knives, I thought, for gods' sake, she has four knives.

Her left hand dropped in a strange motion, and I suddenly stilled. My eyes found Logan, who had eased slightly away from the other Division men. My stomach dropped, and instinctively, my mouth opened to stop them. But I couldn't. There was nothing I could do. Any signal I gave would only alert Morgan. Her right hand came up, her grip loose and ready.

Morgan laughed. "Oh, look, Aern. Your prom queen brought a knife." His words were light, plainly unconcerned she could strike him from that distance, and several of the younger men along the walls chuckled. But I could see the concentration in his features, the way his thumb pressed against the inside of the platinum ring at the base of his third finger. It wasn't working. He was doing everything in his power to sway this girl, and it wasn't working.