Page 9

V anya

The oil painting of an ancient execution hangs behind my desk.

A “traitor” burned alive a century ago for refusing to bow to purity edicts she deemed barbaric.

The artist captured the exact moment before the flames consumed her—defiance blazing in golden eyes that almost mirror my own in dragon form.

I wonder if they’ll paint my death with such drama when this all ends.

“Elder Arrowvane, the quarterly reports require your approval.” The junior assistant’s voice is a discreet murmur. Marek Keller—twenty-three years old, descendant of a minor bloodline, assigned to my chambers because no one else volunteered for the honor.

Poor kid.

I don’t look up from the documents spread across my desk. Intelligence reports detailing Aurora Collective movements. Bloodline verification recommendations. Exile orders waiting for my signature. The bureaucracy of puritanical extremism, neatly organized in manila folders.

But my mind isn’t on the paperwork. It’s on Ember. Ember, who doesn’t know that the clock is ticking. That it’s been ticking since the Ivory League meeting. Since Vex announced the protocols that will sweep through our ranks like wildfire.

I need time. Time to find a way to get my daughter to safety before they discover what she is.

Think.

Safe houses are compromised. The network Cassia and I built is too exposed now that Vex has his eye on it. Any sudden disappearance will trigger investigations that lead straight back to me.

I keep coming up blank.

“The Kiasog recommendations,” I say, my voice carrying the authority that comes with being the most feared member of the Ivory League. “Strike the family in Sector Seven. Insufficient evidence.”

Marek shifts behind me. “But the initial report suggested—”

“The initial report was flawed.” I sign my name with decisive strokes. “I’ve reviewed the bloodline analysis personally. They’re clean.”

A lie. The Kiasog family is mixed-blood, third generation from a dragon-witch pairing. But their young drake is twelve years old, and I’ll be damned if I’ll sign execution orders for a child whose only crime is existing.

Besides, every family I save creates precedent. Documentation that some investigations yield negative results. Cover for when Ember’s inevitable testing comes back.

If I can even get her that far.

“Of course, Elder. I’ll have the file amended.”

Another family breathing because I wear this mask. Another small victory that feels hollow when my own daughter’s life hangs in the balance.

The encrypted phone hidden in my desk drawer tugs at my attention.

There’s been no response. No acknowledgment. No way to know if Hargen even received it, or if it disappeared into the digital ether like a prayer offered to an empty sky.

What did you expect? That he’d come running to save a daughter he doesn’t know exists? That after twenty-one years of believing you’re dead, he’d just accept your word about having his child?

The rational part of my mind is ruthless in its assessment. But the desperate mother clawing at my chest refuses to listen to reason.

He has to have gotten it. He has to know. He has to—

A sharp rap at my door cuts through the spiral of hope and desperation. “Enter.”

Elder Vex sweeps in without ceremony, moving with the confident stride of someone who’s never doubted their place in the world, never questioned their right to decide who lives and dies.

“Elder.” I don’t look up from my paperwork, letting him see detachment, not the cold fear his presence always brings. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“Business, Elder. The kind that requires your particular expertise.”

Something in his tone makes my fingers still against the document I’m reviewing. When Vex sounds pleased, people die. Usually in unpleasant ways.

“Indeed? What manner of business?”

“We have a subject in custody. Someone who once worked within our ranks but claims he was manipulated by an asset.” He settles into the chair across from my desk without invitation. “He handed himself over voluntarily, with promises of providing valuable intelligence on the Aurora Collective.”

I set down my pen, finally giving him my full attention. “And you doubt his sincerity?”

“I doubt everything, Elder Arrowvane. It’s what’s kept me alive this long.” His mask tilts slightly—the mechanical equivalent of a cunning smile. “This particular individual could be a genuine defector seeking redemption. Or he could be a dangerous infiltration attempt.”

“What makes him significant?”

“His background. His connections. His potential access to information we need.” Vex leans forward, his voice dropping. “If he’s genuine, he could provide detailed intelligence on Aurora operations. Leadership structures. Strategic objectives. The location of high-value targets we’ve been hunting.”

“And if he’s not genuine?”

“Then we need to know what the Collective hopes to gain by sending him.” His satisfaction radiates through his mask. “Which is why I need you to handle the interrogation personally. Your skills are unparalleled.”

“You flatter me.” I lean back in my chair, projecting the cold authority that has kept me alive in this position. “But surely our standard interrogation protocols—”

“Won’t suffice for this,” he cuts me off. “This subject has extensive training in resistance techniques. Former military background. Counter-intelligence experience. If anyone can determine his true loyalties, it’s you.”

Former military. Counter-intelligence experience.

The description triggers something in my memory, but I push it aside. Half the defectors we process have similar backgrounds.

“Very well. I’ll review his file and determine the appropriate approach.” I reach for my tablet, ready to dismiss him. “When can you have him transferred to my facility?”

“This afternoon. But there’s something else you should know about our guest.” Vex pauses, and I can feel his attention fixed on me like a blade.

“He was the handler assigned to that Rossewyn witch—Lila, I believe. Twenty years of direct contact with one of the most powerful bloodlines in existence.”

I stiffen.

“Lila Rossewyn?” My voice is suddenly hoarse. “Her handler?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Hargen Cole. He was the—”

The tablet slips from my fingers.

Hargen.

For a moment that stretches like eternity, I can’t breathe. Can’t gather my thoughts. Can’t do anything but stare at Vex while my carefully constructed world spins wildly.

He came. He got the message, and he came.

“Elder Arrowvane?” Vex’s voice carries sharp curiosity. “Is everything alright?”

I force my hands to steady, retrieving the tablet with jerky movements. “I… Yes. Fine.” I clear my throat. “Interesting development.”

Interesting development.

As if the man I’ve loved for over two decades hasn’t just walked voluntarily into the heart of enemy territory. As if the father of my child isn’t sitting in a Syndicate holding cell right now.

“Indeed. His story is that the witch manipulated him through their handler bond. Magical coercion over an extended period, forcing him to help her escape when Aurora made their move.” Vex watches me with unsettling intensity.

“Rossewyn magic is certainly powerful enough to achieve such manipulation. But is his claim genuine, or is it a cover for willing defection?”

“An excellent question.” My voice sounds normal, controlled, giving away nothing of the turmoil beneath. “I’ll need to examine the magical residue patterns. Analyze the psychological markers. Determine whether his claimed victimization is authentic or fabricated.”

Magical coercion.

A perfect cover story for infiltration. Present yourself as a victim rather than a traitor, offer intelligence to prove your value, gain access to sensitive operations from within.

Clever. Dangerous. Exactly the kind of desperate gambit Hargen might attempt if he thought our daughter’s life was at stake.

He always was resourceful.

Among other things.

“I thought that would intrigue you.” Vex stands, straightening his expensive jacket. “Cole’s knowledge of Aurora operations could be invaluable. But more importantly, his connection to the Rossewyn bloodline might provide insights into our ongoing investigation.”

“Investigation?”

“Surely you remember our last meeting, Elder? The pattern of interference we’ve been tracking.

Someone within our ranks has been protecting mixed-bloods, redirecting operations, allowing targets to escape.

” His voice carries dark satisfaction. “Hargen Cole spent years in close contact with Rossewyn magic. If anyone might recognize the signatures of manipulation, it would be him. It’s quite likely his own magic could be useful too.

We could use him to help dig out the traitor. ”

“A fascinating possibility,” I manage.

God, he’s relentless.

Vex’s thin lips curl up as he stands. “Break him properly, Elder. Find out what he knows about Aurora’s internal security.

About their intelligence networks. About who might be feeding them information from within our own organization.

” Vex moves toward the door, then pauses.

“And if his defection proves genuine, we’ll have gained a valuable asset against our enemies. ”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll learn what the Aurora Collective hoped to accomplish by sacrificing him.” His laugh grates on my frayed nerves. “Either way, we win.”

The door closes behind him, leaving me alone with the impossible reality of what’s just happened.

Hargen is here. In Syndicate custody. Asking to speak with high-ranking officials about Aurora intelligence.

I force myself to breathe. To think past the surge of desperate hope that threatens to overwhelm me.

He came because of my message. Because he learned he has a daughter whose life is in danger.

But he doesn’t know who he’ll be facing when they bring him up for interrogation.

My hands shake as I reach for the secure communication array. “Marek.”

“Yes, Elder?”

“Clear my schedule for the remainder of the day. No interruptions. No exceptions.”

“Of course. Should I inform the other League members—”

“No.” I cut him off. “This interrogation is classified at the highest levels. No one else is to know about it until I’ve completed my assessment.”

“Understood, Elder.”

I sink into my chair, closing my eyes, feeling the weight of decades of careful deception pressing down like a mountain. Within hours, I’ll be face-to-face with the man who fathered my child. The man I’ve watched from a distance, feeling his pain through our bond, knowing I’d caused it.

The man who walked willingly into hell because he believes our daughter needs saving.

And she does.

Vex’s witch hunt will find her, eventually. Will classify her as an abomination requiring elimination. Unless I can find a way to save us all without destroying the careful balance that’s kept us alive this long.

I open my eyes and reach for my tablet, pulling up the specifications for the interrogation chambers. Private. Soundproofed. Magically warded against surveillance.

Perfect for the conversation that will determine whether we live or die. A conversation I may not be ready for.

Because after two decades of separation, we’re finally going to be in the same room again.