I turn to him. “I used to dream of locking those doors for good. Now... I dream of finding a better lock.”
He reaches for my hand—rough, sure. “Then let’s find a better lock.”
Something in his tone cracks open my chest. The wordlet’s—shared purpose, shared risk. I squeeze his fingers. “We’ll need to be better.”
He meets my gaze, his crimson glow softened. “We will. Together.”
We talk until the stars sift skyward and the city dims into quiet rhythm. We talk about my guilt—how I feel complicit in this new power structure. He doesn’t flinch. He leans into my shoulder and says, “Your guilt made you aim higher.”
I realize forgiveness isn’t demanded tonight—maybe never in full. But this moment is absolution enough. I rest my head against his coat, the scent of cedar binding my heart. “Then let’s just... be better.”
He wraps an arm around me like armor. “Yeah.”
I breathe deep. Courthouse steps beneath our feet, fractured but standing. Us—broken, but building something new.
We linger long into the night, cocooned in the city’s quiet redemption, hands entwined. Not forgiveness, not absolution—just two souls deciding that they’re not defined by what they were, but by who they choose to be.
CHAPTER 29
AEBON REXX
I’m standing before the war table beneath the Sanctum’s violet lights, the holo-map of the Nine’s territories floating in the center like a malignant star. My people wait in taut silence—Bruna, Haarvik, Loran, and a few others, each drilled in aggression and loyalty. But something feels off. I don’t know whether it’s the scent of iron in my nose or the tremor in my fingers.
The comm-alert chimes again—a discreet-coded message from Zyrk, my off-world informant. I don’t let it sit on my suite’s screen.
Serenely, I open it to reveal the text:Final move: termination. Not test. They prepare to extinguish you.The words shine in deadly clarity against the holo-dust.
Silence settles like ice.
I press my lips closed. My jaw tightens as I slide the file to the center of the table. The holo-map dims and reroutes data lines—Nar’Vosk remnants, Nine contact points, forbidden zones.
“Final move,” I murmur.
Bruna steps forward. “That’s an execution order?”
I press my palm onto the table, steadying myself against the rising storm of adrenaline. “They’re not testing anymore. They’re ending.”
Haarvik exhales. “We expected something, but notthis.”
Loran’s eyes narrow. “If they kill you...”
I watch their unspoken question hover. This is the moment I’ve fought ghosts to avoid. The Nine were our puppet masters until now—but if they decide to cut the thread, everything unravels.
My hand clenches. I have more to lose. Goldwin. Aria. Everything we built.
I clear my throat. “Get squads alert. Sentinel positions. Nonlethal and lethal readiness.” I pause as I swallow the weight of execution. “But,” I add quietly, “don’t act until I say.”
They nod. They understand what’s unsaid.
Later, I slip into the penthouse. The Sanctum war table stays behind. Now there’s only moonlight and the hum of the night city. Aria steps away from the window to meet me.
Her brow furrows, the stale scent of lavender wafting. She raises a brow. “What did Zyrk report?”
My chest pulses. I breathe deep. “Final move. The Nine aren’t testing any longer.”
Her stance stiffens. She reaches out and takes my hand—cool, firm.
I don’t flinch. “I convened a war council.”
