DeMarco’s POV
The next morning.
Ellie’s face is soft, almost peaceful. It makes my stomach twist. She’s lying where I left her, breathing slowly, still tied until I loosen the bindings. She doesn’t stir when I free her wrists and throw the blanket over her bare body. It’s almost insulting how easily she sleeps after last night.
I reach for my phone. 6:16 a.m. A decent hour to plot someone’s downfall. I sent Morgana a message: tomorrow, bring the three portal keys. The Western Royal Pack won’t see me coming. Magnus won’t either. By the time the inside man does his job, the smug bastard will be nothing but dust under my heel.
The bathroom tiles are cold under my feet. I piss, wash, turn the shower on. The steam curling around me. Just as I’m about to call Ellie in, I hear her scrambling.
