Declan, who had been half-asleep in the circle behind Ruhn, instantly straightened. “Yeah, no problem.” He was smart enough to look to Sandriel first—and the Archangel rolled her eyes but nodded. Declan’s laptop was open a heartbeat later. He frowned at what popped up on the laptop, but then he hit a button.

And revealed dozens of different video feeds—all from Griffin Antiquities. In the lower right corner, in a familiar library … Hunt forgot to breathe entirely.

Especially as Jesiba’s phone buzzed again, and a message—a continuation of a previous conversation, it seemed—popped up on the screens. His heart stalled at the name: Bryce Quinlan.

His heart wholly stopped at the message. Are the feeds on yet?

“What the fuck?” Ruhn hissed.

Bryce was standing in front of the camera, pouring what seemed to be a glass of wine. And behind her, seated at the main table of the library, was Micah.

Sandriel murmured, “He said he had a meeting …”

The camera was hidden inside one of the books, just above Bryce’s head.

Declan hit a few keys on his computer, pulling up that particular feed. Another keystroke and its audio filled the conference room.

Bryce was saying over her shoulder, throwing Micah a casual smile, “Would you like some food with your wine? Cheese?”

Micah lounged at the table, surveying a spread of books. “That would be appreciated.”

Bryce hummed, covertly typing on her phone as she fiddled on the refreshment cart.

The next message to Jesiba blared across the conference room screens.

One word that had Hunt’s blood going cold.

Help.

It was not a cheeky, charming plea. Not as Bryce lifted her gaze to the camera.

Fear shone there. Stark, bright fear. Every instinct in Hunt went on roaring alert.

“Governor,” the Autumn King said to Sandriel, “I would like an explanation.”

But before Sandriel could reply, Ruhn quietly ordered, with eyes glued to the feeds, “Flynn, send an Aux unit to Griffin Antiquities. Right now.”

Flynn instantly had his phone out, fingers flying.

“Micah has not done anything wrong,” Sandriel snapped at the Fae Prince. “Except demonstrate his poor choice in females.”

It would have earned him a whip of cold wind from Sandriel, he knew, had the sound not been hidden by matching snarls from Declan and Ruhn.

Tristan Flynn was snapping at someone, “Get over to Griffin Antiquities right now. Yes, in the Old Square. No—just go. That is a fucking order.”

Ruhn barked another command at the Fae lord, but Micah began speaking again.

“You’ve certainly been busy.” Micah motioned to the table. “Looking for a loophole?”

Bryce swallowed as she began assembling a plate for Micah. “Hunt is my friend.”

Those were—those were law books on the table. Hunt’s stomach dropped to his feet.

“Ah yes,” Micah said, leaning back in his chair. “I admire that about you.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Fury bit out.