I should demand answers. I should make him stay, force the truth from his mouth. I should remind him that I’m not a pawn to be summoned when convenient. But the urgency in his voice coils around me, tightening with each beat of my heart.
He doesn’t plead. Not with anyone.
And still, he hasn’t said he loves me. He never has.
But I’ve already given him everything. My mind. My loyalty. My skin.
So I nod, letting him lead me toward whatever storm waits at the end of this hallway, even as Vivienne’s voice whispers through the cracks he won’t acknowledge.
Through the shimmer ofsurveillance feeds, I watch my sister run for her life. The magical displays hover in the gloom, each casting a different vantage of the Rift District’s crumbling alleys. Glamour dulls her features, but I know the rhythm of her movements, that purposeful stride she adopts when convinced she’s outwitted everyone.
Maybe this time, she has.
The realization unsettles me, but seeing her without Dom trailing behind her like a dark shadow . . . well, perhaps my sister isn’t as foolish as I believed. Though the man running beside her is unfamiliar.
I’ve studied enough of the forbidden histories to grasp the weight of what we’re witnessing. When Kian called Alexander to report Aria’s escape, I was relegated to fetching coffee, as if I’m some junior assistant rather than the lead researcher. I wanted to dump the scalding liquid over both their heads, but instead, I listened from around the corner, piecing together fragments of their heated discussion.
Breaching the Founders’ Crest wards wasn’t just impressive—it was unthinkable. Those barriers are older than Eclipsera itself, laced with magic that predates the curse. I know, I’ve poured over the fragments late into the night, trying to decipher the original syntaxof power we’re meddling with. The texts describe Astrafel not as a deity, but as a threshold—magic’s living conduit. He allowed it to flow, but only on terms we refused to accept. No industry, weapons, or ownership.
“Go get them.” Kian’s growl breaks the silence. He sits far too close to the displays, smearing the ethereal surface with greasy fingerprints with deliberate disregard. “Finally caught our little runaways. They’re heading for the station.” His grin spreads, all appetite. “I have Smoke there ready to play. Could be fun, watching them choke.”
“No.” Alexander’s voice slices through the room with its usual precision. That composed restraint I once found magnetic now scrapes against me, a reminder of how unflinching he remained while Vivienne pressed herself against him.
“Oh?” Kian’s amusement curdles into something sharper. “Suddenly squeamish about public spectacle? They look like Lower Ring vermin anyway. No one flinches when rats vanish.”
“We pivot the plan.”
“What the actual fuck?” Kian whirls toward him. “Have you gone soft, or just stupid?”
Alexander’s lips curve slightly. “Are you certain Astrafel took the bait? That you managed to force him to lock the bond in place?”
“Are you questioning me?” Kian’s voice drops dangerously. “Careful, Alex. I’d hate to ruin our decades of brotherhood by tearing out your tongue. Though I must admit,” his grin blooms wide “I’m getting quite talented with that particular extraction.”
“You do have a taste for theatrics.” Alexander leans back, that infuriating calm unshaken. “But everything you’re gambling on stems from Elyra’s accounts and her journals. You’re still operating on the assumption she was telling the truth.”
Kian jabs a finger at the feed from an hour ago, Aria and her companion slipping past the gates. “Then explainthis.Explain how they bypassed the most ancient barrier in this city. Go on. Enlighten me.” His voice softens, cruel delight dancing at the corners. “I amcertain of the bond. Octavia wouldn’t have risked exposure unless she believed in it too—” He cuts off, something corrosive flashing through his expression.
“And where is Octavia?” Alexander interjects, though I suspect he already knows the answer.
Kian laughs, low and delighted. “Oh, my darling wife and I had a special date. A little private reunion in the Underground. She clearly needed a reminder about her place in our happy home.” He runs his tongue across his teeth. “She screamed for a while, but it got dull. So I simplified the situation. Let’s say she won’t be voicing her objections again.”
Alexander suppresses a shudder, and Kian’s grin widens. “You’re too soft. That’s why your boy hates you. Though I must say, watching Rowe’s disgust with you lately has been deliciously entertaining.”
“Dom hates you too,” Alexander replies flatly.
“Touché.” Kian chuckles, boots resting on the command panel. “But at least my son knows exactly what kind of monster raised him. No illusions there.” He examines his nails, still stained with what I suspect is Octavia’s blood. “Now, about our little runaway. What’s your inspired counter-plan?”
Alexander’s smirk carries echoes of Vivienne’s earlier smile. “Let her go to Astrafel. She’s a compass now. We apply enough pressure to keep her unsettled, paint her as a fugitive so even he sees no snare. Then we track her. Eventually, she’ll lead us right to him.”
“Bit loose for my taste.” Kian drums his fingers against the arm of his chair. “Once she leaves the city’s network, how do you propose we track her? I need more than your over-inflated confidence, but it’s always a joy to watch you pretend you have control.”
“I have an idea,” Alexander replies. “We’ll need Dom.”
“That can be arranged,” Kian says, his grin slicing across his face. “Though he’s been difficult lately. Uncooperative. Children, so full of misplaced morality.”
Alexander turns to me, and my skin prickles at his attention. “Sweetheart, how close are you to finishing the serum we discussed?”
My mind stutters through calculations, risks, contingencies. “It’s still theoretical,” I reply carefully. “We didn’t even have the right creatures for this yet.”
