Outside, he saw that something large moved through the canopy—a leopard perhaps, or one of the smaller jungle cats that hunted at twilight.Predators and prey in their eternal dance.Which was he, this time?
“I don’t believe Sunan would injure the children directly.”Connor forced himself to analyze coldly, as the Master would have.“It would violate every code we have about involving innocents.Such an action could turn the organization against him, even those who support his challenge.But ...”
“But desperate people do desperate things.”Sophie’s voice was steady, controlled, but he knew her well enough to hear the fear beneath.“And fanatics don’t always follow their own rules.”
“No,” he said quietly.“They don’t.”
“Then, as I said, I’ll handle it.”No dramatics, no accusations—just Sophie facing reality with her usual unflinching resolve.“I need to go.It’s late here, and tomorrow will be complicated.”
“Sophie, wait.”He pressed his forehead against the cool stone of the window frame, struggling to find a way to convey his love, his regret, his determination to protect her despite the distance and barriers.Words failed him, as they always did in moments that truly mattered.“Please.Just ...be careful.”
“You too, Connor.”Her voice gentled for just a moment.“Whatever Sunan is planning, it won’t stop with a few museum thefts and cryptic messages.He’s building to something bigger.He probably wants your head.Literally.”
The line went dead with a soft click and she vanished from the screen, leaving Connor holding a silent phone while the jungle breathed below him.
She was right, of course.The Yam Khûmk?n had ancient ways of handling succession—trial by combat and obstacle.Sunan wouldn’t be content with simply defeating Connor; he’d want to make an example of him, wash away what he saw as weakness with Connor’s blood.
Connor would have to eliminate him first.
He set the phone down carefully, though his hands wanted to hurl it against the stone walls.Violence shimmered just beneath his civilized veneer—the Master’s true legacy was hardwired into him now.
Outside, a night wind picked up, setting the prayer flags on nearby turrets snapping.The breeze swept in over the ancient stones of the stronghold, lifting the silk tapestries that covered doorways, carrying the scent of approaching rain.The air grew thick with moisture and electricity—monsoon season coming early, or perhaps just a brief storm.
He could feel the disturbance in his bones.Storm season was approaching Thailand in truth, but also metaphorically approaching Oahu, approaching everyone that he’d tried to protect by leaving them far behind.
Connor hit the intercom on his desk, the modern device incongruous against the hand-carved teak.Feirn answered immediately—the man never seemed to sleep, a useful trait.
“Master?”
“Gather the inner circle.Main conference room, twenty minutes.”Connor was already moving, pulling on a shirt, sliding his feet into the soft leather shoes he wore indoors.“I have intelligence to share about Sunan’s activities.I want updates from all our Honolulu assets, and I want strategic options prepared.”
“Aye, sir.I’ll have them assembled.”A pause, then carefully: “Lethal or non-lethal options, Master?”
Connor stopped in the doorway, one hand on the ancient wood that defined the stone portal.Through the window, he could see the first drops of rain beginning to fall.One of them landed on his skin, warm as blood.
With Sophie and the children in danger, he felt a darkness rising inside.Some part of him had always known this moment would come—when he’d have to choose between the man he wanted to be and the monster he’d been shaped into.
“Lethal,” he said quietly, the word falling into the humid air like a stone into still water.“This must end with Sunan’s death.Prepare options that ensure it.”
He disconnected and moved through the stronghold’s corridors, feeling the weight of centuries in these stones.Monks had prayed here once, before the Yam Khûmk?n had claimed it.Perhaps their spirits lingered, witnesses to how sacred spaces could be corrupted.
The rain was falling harder now, drumming against the roof tiles, running down in sheets that distorted the jungle beyond.Somewhere out there, Sunan was moving his pieces into position, confident in his righteousness, certain that Connor’s feelings for a woman and two children were proof of weakness.
Connor paused at a window overlooking the central courtyard, watching rain pound the stone courtyard where he’d trained for years.His gaze fell on the row of pikes where heads of the disobedient were displayed.They were empty now, but this was where he’d learned that love was liability, that connection was vulnerability, that strength came through isolation and self-mastery.
Sophie might pay the price for his hubris in believing he could have both worlds—the shadow kingdom he ruled, and the light she represented.
The storm was coming in truth now, lightning flickering through the clouds, thunder rolling across the jungle like war drums.
Connor turned from the window and walked toward his council chamber.The man who loved Sophie and her children would always exist, locked away in his heart.
But now, the Yam Khûmk?n would remember why they’d feared him enough to follow him after he’d killed their Master.
8
SOPHIE
Sophie droveout the gate of her house the next morning, the automatic barrier closing behind her with a soft mechanical whir and aclunkthat felt more final than usual somehow; it had been difficult to leave today.
