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“Elder Arrowvane.” A voice from the doorway. I look up to find Vex standing there watching me. “I believe you’ve opted to personally oversee some of our detection operations.”

I maintain perfect composure, though his presence here—unscheduled, unexpected—sends warnings through my system.

“Recent security concerns warrant increased direct involvement,” I say smoothly. “I’m evaluating our tactical response protocols.”

“Indeed.” He moves closer, invading my space deliberately. “I’ve noticed your… increased attention to operational details lately.”

“The purification protocols are too important for delegation.”

“Hmm.” The sound comes from behind his mask, impossible to interpret. “Strange timing, wouldn’t you say? Your sudden enthusiasm coincides precisely with our enhanced loyalty verification.”

I meet his gaze, refusing to yield ground. “I would say it coincides with the discovery of security anomalies that threaten our entire organization. Anomalies you yourself brought to our attention.”

“I’ve been reviewing your operational history,” he says after a moment. “Fifteen years of exemplary service. Unwavering dedication to our cause. Hundreds of successful purification actions.”

“I serve the bloodlines,” I respond automatically.

“Yes, you do.” He pauses, head tilted slightly. “Yet in recent weeks, something has changed. Subtle, but present. Your reaction times. Your focus during meetings. I’ve been noticing… fluctuations.”

My heart rate increases, though I keep my breathing steady. “The strain of increased security concerns affects us all.”

“Does it?” He moves closer, his mask inches from mine. “Or is there something more personal disturbing your legendary composure?”

For a dangerous moment, I consider what would happen if I told him the truth. If I removed my mask and showed him exactly who has been undermining his precious purity agenda for fifteen years. The satisfaction would be tremendous. And it would be momentary.

Instead, I sigh softly, allowing a calculated glimpse of manufactured vulnerability.

“You’re perceptive, Elder Vex.” I turn slightly, as if admitting this makes me uncomfortable. “I’ve been… concerned about my bloodline. The Arrowvane family dwindles to critical numbers. As the last senior representative, certain responsibilities weigh heavily.”

“Bloodline continuation.” He seems satisfied with this explanation. “A concern we all share, particularly those of us representing the most endangered lines.”

“Indeed.” I relax slightly, suggesting his understanding has eased my discomfort. “I should have mentioned it earlier, but such matters feel… inappropriate for Ivory League discussions.”

Vex steps back with a nod. “The verification procedures will proceed as scheduled, of course.”

“Of course. I welcome the opportunity to show my continued commitment.”

As he turns to leave, he adds casually, “We’ve implemented some fascinating new elements in the verification protocols. Memory mapping that can identify emotional attachments formed or severed within recent months. Quite remarkable technology.”

The threat couldn’t be clearer if he’d drawn a weapon. He suspects something but lacks concrete evidence.

“Fascinating indeed.” I nod. “I look forward to experiencing it firsthand.”

I watch as he walks out, only feeling the tension ebb away when his footsteps have faded to silence.

The day stretches into evening, my nerves stretched taut until I finally leave with a curt nod to Marek.

I return to my soulless Syndicate-allocated apartment as night falls over the complex, the familiar spaces feeling emptier than ever.

I move through my evening routine—security protocols engaged, communications checked one final time—all of it mechanical, all of it hollow.

As I settle into bed, I finally allow myself the one indulgence I’ve denied all day.

I reach for the bond, feeling carefully for Hargen’s presence across the distance.

It’s there—stronger than this morning, suggesting his emotional state has stabilized.

I sense no immediate distress, no danger signals.

He’s safe. They’re both safe.

The relief is overwhelming, though I don’t dare probe deeper. Any substantial magical connection might be detected by the sensors monitoring Syndicate territory. This brief touch has to be enough.

I close my eyes, remembering how it felt to fall asleep in his arms just days ago. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The security of his presence. The way he’d murmur something indistinct whenever I’d shift position, his arms tightening around me.

After all the years of sleeping alone, one night with him has made solitude unbearable again.

This is the price, I remind myself. This is what it costs to keep them safe.

On my nightstand sits a single object I’ve allowed myself to keep—a smooth river stone Ember collected on a rare vacation when she was eight. Nothing incriminating, nothing that would raise questions if discovered. Just a simple stone that connects me to her.

I touch it gently, drawing comfort from its cool surface. Somewhere beyond the Syndicate’s reach, my daughter sleeps under different stars, protected by her father. Learning who she truly is. Becoming the woman she was always meant to be.

It has to be enough.

It has to be worth this aching emptiness.

As sleep finally takes me, I allow myself one final thought of Hargen—not the desperate passion of our last night together, but a quieter moment. His hand covering mine across the safe house table. The simple words that carried impossible weight: “I’ll find a way back to you.”

A promise neither of us knew how to keep, but one I’ll hold on to, anyway.

Tomorrow I’ll be the Shadowhand again. Tonight, I allow myself to be simply a woman who misses her family with every breath.

I turn my face into my pillow to muffle the sobs.