“We do now.” His gaze holds mine, unrelenting. I try not to think about how those same eyes looked when Vivienne laid claim to him. “How soon can you stabilize it? First batch, at least?”
“A few days. Maybe—”
“Perhaps I should involve the rest of the research team.”
Fear spikes through me. “You know what?” I force steadiness into my tone. “Give me a few hours in the lab, and two assistants. You’ll have your prototype before midnight.”
Kian lets out a delighted breath. “Gods, I see the appeal. Pretty, eager, and hopelessly obedient.” He tilts his head “Yet she’s looking a little rattled. Domestic turbulence?”
The words crawl over my skin. Alexander must notice my discomfort because his expression shifts slightly. “We can talk on the way to the labs. We have a few things to discuss.” He turns toward Kian. “Get Dom down there. And make sure he’s conscious. I won’t work with broken parts.”
“No promises.” Kian rises with fluid grace. “Someone had to pay for our little darling’s escape. And my son bleeds so beautifully. Inherited that from his mother, I think.” He winks in my direction. “Speaking of which, I should go check on my dear wife. Make sure she hasn’t choked on anything important.”
As they drift into tactical discussion, my thoughts scatter backward to the ancient texts. Astrafel, both revered and feared, a being who could take human form, yet was older than empires.
Now, watching my sister flee toward what she thinks is freedom, I wonder if she has any idea what awaits her. Or what we’re about to unleash in response.
“Shall we?” Alexander’s hand slides to my lower back, guiding me forward. The contact is featherlight, and yet now, every inch ofme remembers how his fingers flexed when Vivienne laid her claim. How easily his body responded, even if his voice did not.
He leads me through the winding lower halls of his home, up marble stairs lit by sconces glowing a soft crimson. The shadows deepen with every step. This part of the manor breathes secrets, and the air carries the weight of legacies too old to name.
His AetherLink chimes and he answers mid-step. “What do you mean he’s—” He cuts off, listening. “No. Let him leave.” A protest echoes faintly through the link. “I told you to let him go. That’s an order.” More pushback. “Yes, I know what I said earlier. I don’t care. Follow my instructions.”
He disconnects, already dialing again. His hand never leaves my back.
“This is Alexander Darkmoor,” he says into the second call. “My son will be at the western checkpoint within the hour.” He pauses. “Yes, that one. I want his vehicle delayed.” Another murmur. “No, I don’t care how you justify it. Get him out of the car. Keep him there for a few minutes.” More resistance. “Make something up. That’s your job. Now execute.”
The call ends. He doesn’t glance at me, but I study him anyway—the rigid line of his jaw, the subtle tension in his posture, the precision of every move. He’s planning something. He always is.
I clear my throat. “What are you doing?”
“Giving your sister a fighting chance.” Alexander’s smile carries an edge I can’t fully decipher—too measured to trust, too controlled to be called kind. “Those checkpoints weren’t built for mercy. With the borders sealed, she won’t make it through alone. She’ll need help. Let’s hope she has the sense to recognize it when it comes.” A darker note settles into his expression. “If not . . . Kian’s methods will be our fallback.”
A chill cuts through me, and without a word, Alexander shrugs off his jacket and places it over my shoulders. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing the collar, lingering as if to stake a claim.
“It’s fine,” I reply, though my voice fractures on the last syllable.
He catches my hand, weaving our fingers together. “No, it’s not. I can see how upset you are.” His thumb traces circles on my skin, the gesture at odds with his earlier commanding tone.
He leads me through a side corridor I hadn’t noticed before. An exit someone like Alexander would keep for moments when discretion matters more than appearance. A black car idles in the dusk, windows opaque, its driver indistinct behind the tinted glass. Even the surrounding silence feels curated.
Once we’re inside, the space between sharpens, and neither of us speaks until the engine begins to move. When Alexander finally breaks the silence, his tone is unexpectedly gentle.
“Are you certain about this? The serum, helping with this project, knowing it’s personal.”
For the first time since starting this work, I do hesitate. The bond changes things. Astrafel’s connection to my sister makes everything weigh heavier, more significant than the usual experiments.
Alexander studies me in the dim cabin glow before reaching across the seat and clasping my hand. His grip is light, but urgent. “There’s something you need to know,” he says quietly. “Elyra sold Aria to Kian before she was even born.”
The words crash into me.
“That Ellis legacy—the recognition, the spotlight—it should have been yours. The only reason Aria got all that attention was because of the dormant bond. Everything about her life was carefully orchestrated.”
My throat tightens. “What do you mean?”
“I know it’s a lot to take in, sweetheart.” His thumb draws careful patterns across my palm, his voice low and coaxing. “You already hold more knowledge than most in this city, and that makes you a target. I’m worried . . . ” He lets the pause stretch, concern shadowing his features. “I’m worried about what happens if Kian senses even the slightest doubt. My reach only goes so far, and I won’t always be able to protect you.”
Fear slides down my spine. I’ve heard what Kian does to people who disappoint him. He doesn’t even hesitate to hurt his own wife and son.
