"We learned a lot about Shadera through the grapevine," Brooker went on, his gaze sliding to her with a coldness that made Greyson's hair stand on end. "Knew how important she was to Jaeger, to Vine. Knew they would do almost anything to get her back."
Maximus stepped up beside him, the two of them forming a united front that made his stomach turn. Father and son, power and cunning combined.
"Dad and I had just planned to keep her prisoner after your death, but then you had to go and remove your mask in front of everyone. That's when Elara suggested the Vow.
" Brooker nodded toward their mother standing at the back of the platform, shoulders folded in on herself.
"That's when the real plan formed. Came together brilliantly, if I do say so myself. "
Brooker chuckled, squeezing Callum's shoulder and shaking him.
"I whispered in Farrow's ear that the ceremony would be the perfect time to strike," Brooker continued, "and the information just trickled down. Dad and I didn't have to do anything, really, but wait and let all the rebel leaders come to us.
" He laughed again, the sound haunting. "And they did it so easily."
Callum made a sound, a snarl, struggling against Brooker's grip. "You won't get away with this," he spat, blood spraying from his split lip. "The people know now. They've seen—"
Brooker pressed the gun harder against his temple, cutting him off.
"They've seen what we wanted them to see.
A spectacle. A distraction. While we took care of the real threat.
" His smile was razor sharp now. "And without leaders to oppose us, the rings will be easy to eliminate for a greater purpose."
"A greater purpose?" Greyson echoed, unable to keep the disgust from his voice. "Mass murder is your greater purpose?"
"Progress," Maximus interjected, his tone reasonable, almost paternal. "The expansion of the Heart. The preservation of civilization in a world still recovering from its collapse."
"You really are the devil," Greyson whispered, but Brooker just laughed.
"You were always the weaker brother," he said, shaking his head. "So emotional. It makes sense you would have a different father. Something so weak couldn't come from Maximus."
The words hit Greyson with astonishing force, driving the air from his lungs.
Different father?
He saw his mother straighten. Saw Mikel's hand tighten on his gun.
"What is he talking about?" Greyson demanded, looking from face to face, searching for answers in their expressions as he raised his gun a little higher.
Maximus stepped closer to him, one hand coming to rest on his arm with false affection as Greyson's gun pressed against his chest.
"That's right," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Your mother is a whore, spread her legs for Mikel, and weakness is the only thing that came out of it."
The world stopped. Expanded. Contracted. Greyson felt as if he were standing outside himself, watching the scene unfold from a distance. Mikel. His father. Not Maximus. The revelation should have been earth-shattering, should have rewritten everything he knew about himself.
Instead, it felt like confirmation of something he'd always sensed—the wrongness of his place in the Serel family, the disconnect between himself and the man he'd called father.
Mikel finally pulled his helmet off, letting it fall to the platform with a clatter that echoed across the plaza. His face—a face Greyson had known his entire life without truly seeing—was contorted with rage, eyes fixed on Maximus with murderous intent.
"Get your hands off of him," Mikel snarled, raising his gun higher.
Something in Greyson snapped. All the rage, all the pain, all the betrayal of the past days, years, lifetime, coalesced into a single, burning point of clarity.
This ended now.
He adjusted his aim, finger tightening on the trigger, ready to put a bullet through the golden mask that had haunted his nightmares since childhood.
But the Veyra were faster.
The first shot came from somewhere to his right—one of Maximus's loyal officers firing at Mikel but missing. Then another, and another, until the air was thick with the sound of gunfire, the acrid smell of cordite burning Greyson's nostrils.
Chaos erupted on the platform. Mikel's men returned fire, bodies falling on both sides. Shadera dropped to one knee, firing and dropping Veyra after Veyra. Elara ducked behind the altar, clutching it with shaking hands.
Brooker's grip on Callum must have slackened. Because in the next breath, Callum twisted away, lunging toward Lira with desperate speed.
He ran for her, reaching for her as bullets whizzed past them.
Greyson felt it in the air, felt it shift around him as a scream built on the tip of his tongue.
But he was too late.
The shot that took him came from Brooker's gun.
A single bullet to the back of Callum's head. His body jerked once, then crumpled to the platform, blood pooling beneath him in an expanding circle of crimson.
The world stilled, every sound muting except for the single horrifying scream that erupted from Lira's throat.
It was a sound of pure anguish. A sound that seemed to tear through the entire city, echoing between its buildings.
To Greyson's eyes it was slow, it was an eternity, as she ran to him, heedless of the bullets still flying around them.
He watched Lira drop to her knees beside his body.
Could see her lips moving and forming Callum's name as tears fell onto his body, but he couldn't hear anything now past the static.
A bullet caught her in the shoulder, spinning her sideways as every sense crashed back into Greyson's body. He lunged for her, slipping over blood and bodies as he fought his way toward his wounded sister, his best friend.
His best friend.
A Veyra officer tackled him from behind, driving him to the platform floor with bone-jarring force. His gun skittered away across the polished surface, out of reach. He fought, twisting beneath the officer's weight, but more hands joined, pinning him down.
Around him, Mikel's loyal Veyra were falling, overwhelmed by superior numbers. One by one, they dropped, until only Mikel himself remained standing, back-to-back with Shadera as they fired in desperate defense.
But it wasn't enough. Couldn't be enough.
A bullet caught Shadera in the thigh, driving her to one knee with a strangled cry. Another grazed Mikel's arm, leaving a smoking furrow in his flesh. They were losing. Had already fucking lost.
"Get my daughter out of here," Maximus commanded, gesturing toward Lira, who still clutched Callum's body. Her sobs transformed to a keening wail that tore something from Greyson's soul. "And my son. Keep the heir safe."
Veyra officers moved to obey, dragging Lira away from Callum. She fought like a wild animal, kicking, screaming, her fingers leaving bloody trails across the platform as they separated her from his body.
Other officers surrounded Brooker, forming a protective barrier as they escorted him from the platform, away from the violence.
"No!" Lira screamed, the word so raw and broken. "No! Callum! Let me go! Callum!"
Greyson struggled harder against the hands that held him, desperate to reach her, to help her, but they forced him down, a knee pressing between his shoulder blades until he could barely breathe.
He watched as they dragged Lira away, her bare feet leaving bloody smears across the platform, her screams growing fainter as they pulled her down the stairs and out of the plaza.
Shadera snarled at the three officers holding her down, rage twisting onto her face as she thrashed against them.
Mikel stood still, arms pinioned behind his back, but he did not struggle at their hold.
Maximus approached Greyson slowly, drawing a sleek pistol from inside his jacket. He stood over him, the golden mask betraying nothing of the expression beneath, but Greyson could feel the triumph radiating from him like heat.
"Put him on his knees," Maximus ordered, and Greyson could feel the air rush back to his lungs as they pulled him upright.
"You might as well kill me now," Greyson spat, tasting blood where his lip had split against the platform.
His eyes fell to Callum's body only feet from him and his heart convulsed.
His voice hardened into something sharper than any blade.
"Because I will never stop fighting you. I will never stop coming for you until you are fucking dead."
Maximus tilted his head, considering him for a long moment. "You have served your purpose. I have no use for you now. No reason to keep the captain's bastard alive."
He raised the gun, aiming it at Greyson's head. "You should have stayed in line, Greyson. Should have accepted your place, and you could have stood tall beside your brother and me." His finger tightened on the trigger. "But you chose the wrong side. This rebellion was doomed from the start."
Greyson didn't close his eyes. Didn't flinch. Instead he drifted out of his body. If this was his end, he would face it with the same defiance that had defined his life.
He would die as himself, not as Maximus's creation.
Shadera's guttural scream came only a breath before the shot rang out.