Elizabeth stood at the head of the League council table, arms crossed, while holographic feeds flickered around the room. News of the Mirror standoff had spread fast.
Some delegates clapped her on the back for securing the Fractured Salon deal. Others muttered about corruption seeping into the Free Stars.
The swing votes—the refugee governors who had survived the Oracle mess—wanted private talks before they committed to any new alliance pact.
"Handle the governors," Elizabeth told Sabrina and Aiden. "Luna and Flora will feed you data through the Codex. I'll keep the big room from exploding." Her eyes lingered on both of them, possessive. "Don't let the hunger run loose. Not yet."
Sabrina felt the tattoo on her lower back pulse once, a low heat that made her thighs tighten. She nodded. Aiden's jaw was set. They split off from the main delegation and headed to the resonance garden suites reserved for sensitive meetings.
