She turned her head and saw Tristan Holt leaning against the wall, his smirk as infuriating as ever. Scarlett squeezed her eyes shut.
“You came to mock me?”
“Of course.” Tristan snorted. “Our famous Night Owl, failing her mission and getting thrown into the water prison? That’s worth seeing.”
They’d joined the organization in the same year, but they’d been rivals from the start. If she ranked first in marksmanship, he had to outrank her in combat. The competition never stopped. Scarlett pushed herself upright, her voice tight.
“Did he send you to save me?” For a moment, hope flickered in her chest.
Tristan rolled his eyes.
“He’s busy planning his wedding. Think he’s got time for you?”
She froze. “Wedding?”
The word shattered against her lips.
Tristan grinned, twisting the knife. “Yeah. He’s marrying Rowena—didn't you know?”
Scarlett’s breath hitched.
“No… impossible.” Her voice cracked.
Scarlett staggered off the bed, her face pale as paper, eyes burning with a desperate light. “I don’t believe it. I need to hear it from him.”
She shoved past Tristan’s hand, ignoring his attempt to stop her, stumbling toward the door. Every step felt like walking on air.