Margaux’s expression softens for a fraction of a second. “I’ll keep our broken boy breathing. Now go, before I remember I’m supposed to be the heartless Blackwood daughter.”
Kane waits by the door, his usual cocky grin replaced by an alertness that makes him look dangerous rather than charming. “Ready to vanish in style, princess?”
“Yes, but,” I glance back as Margaux reaches Octavia, who pulls her daughter into an embrace. Real tears streak her flawless face. It’s unsettling, like seeing a statue bleed.
“We need to move,” Kane urges, his eyes darting to the corridors. “Before this whole place goes into lockdown and we’re all too dead to appreciate the irony of being killed by interior design.”
I look once more at the wreckage of lies behind me. At the women I thought I understood, who’ve played their parts so perfectly that even I never saw beneath their masks. Then I follow Kane into the shadows of the Blackwood manor, hoping I’m not trading one prison for another.
The hover-car winds throughFounders’ Crest, past sculpted hedgerows and ornamental gardens that sprawl for miles. The Blackwood estate looms closest to the gates. Of course they’d position themselves near the exit, ever the strategists. Fountains and ancestral monuments streak by in a blur as Kane takes another sharp turn. He’s kept us grounded, tires gripping polished stone instead of switching to hover mode.
“Tires are more reliable,” he explains, catching my questioning look. “Hover’s faster, sure, but one disruption spell and the stabilizers fail. Rather not drop out of the sky because some enforcer got lucky with a containment field.” His hands flex on the wheel. “Plus, I like having full control. Magic’s unpredictable. Rubber and road, that’s something I can trust.”
The vehicle cuts through the turns as if it was built for evasion. I wonder how many times Kane has had to use these alternate routes, smuggling people or secrets out of this place.
My ruby flares without warning, sparks flickering across my fingers where they rest against the dashboard. I frown, trying to rein it in, but my power is different now, less controlled. Like it’s responding to something beyond my understanding.
The lack of control ignites a deeper fury. I never agreed to any of this. The bond. The curse. This brand carved into me as prophecy. My only choices are to run, or stay and let Kian dissect me. Knowing my luck, Luna would be the one wielding the scalpel.
Does she know? Have they filled her in on everything? Or is she another brainwashed minion, so desperate for Alexander’s approval she’d sacrifice her own sister? Maybe she simply doesn’t care anymore.
“Easy with the magic there,” Kane warns, eyes on the road as the dash flashes red. “You’ll fry the navigation.”
“I’m trying,” I grit out, hands clenched in my lap. “But I’m not operating at standard right now.”
“Hey, last time you were in this car, you were practically dead. I’ll take angry and sparking over that any day.” Kane’s eyes meet mine, his expression softening for a moment. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks, but I wouldn’t say that. I died, and now some mystical being is using me as a vessel or mirror or—gods, when did my life become such a mess?” I laugh bitterly. “I miss when my biggest struggle was deciding how to push Dom’s buttons and which bed we’d sleep in.”
Kane’s answering chuckle dies as we approach the gates. “Here we go. Once we cross—”
The world locks.
The ancient wards strike with brute force, stalling the car mid-motion, crimson energy constricting around it in tightening loops. One by one the systems fail—navigation, stabilizers, cooling array—until the engine chokes and lights smear red across the dash.
Kane curses, slamming the accelerator. “Come on, come on,” he growls, the engine screaming in protest. Smoke curls from under the hood as magical pressure threatens to tear the vehicle apart.
Something moves inside me.
One moment I’m gripping my seat, heart pounding, and the next I’m not quite myself anymore. Something ancient and furious risesthrough my blood, filling every cell with power. My fingers tingle before going numb, chest constricting as if my body knows what’s coming before I do.
I reach for control and find nothing.
My hand rises toward the windshield, every motion a violation, the presence writhing beneath my skin, foreign and insistent, exploring me as if my body were borrowed flesh. Sound rips from my throat in syllables I don’t recognize, each word tearing something deeper inside, my body moving as though it follows instructions etched into bone. I can’t stop it; my mouth speaks what my mind rejects.
The ruby splinters against my chest, hairline cracks spreading fast, the raw power bypassing it entirely. The wards ahead pulse once and part—not in defeat, but in recognition.
They know what’s inside me.
Our car shoots forward with such force that Kane slams back against his seat. I collapse against mine, head splitting with pain as control returns. The foreign presence recedes, leaving behind echoes of ancient fury and a flicker of satisfaction.
“Holy shit,” Kane breathes, knuckles white on the wheel as we speed away. “How the hell did you do that?”
“I-I don’t know.” My voice shakes as I touch my splintered ruby. “I think he took over. Used me like a channel or a weapon or . . . ” I press my fingers to my temples, trying to ease the throbbing. “I don’t even know what language that was.”
Kane opens his mouth, but a blare of sirens cuts him off. Lights flare in the rearview mirrors, flashing blue against the windshield.
“Darkmoor’s finest,” he sneers, taking another impossible turn that sends us skidding past a flower vendor’s cart in Crown Heights.Petals explode in our wake, blood roses scattering like omens. “But they’re not who we need to worry about. Kian will send his own people—better trained, better armed, and far less concerned with keeping me breathing. You, though, he still needs alive.”
