Page 17

Chapter 17

L ila

My body jerks upright in bed, skin slick with sweat, heart thundering. Elena’s terror tears through me, distant but unmistakable, a scream that needs no sound to shatter me.

“No!” I choke, the word too small to hold such horror.

My daughter. Taken.

The connection we share may have stretched thin over decades, but it hasn’t broken. Blood calls to blood, especially Rossewyn blood.

Alarms wail outside my quarters. Red emergency lights flash in the corridor. Footsteps pound past my door—not the measured tread of routine, but urgent.

They know too.

My door crashes open. Creed stands silhouetted against flashing red, face contorted with rage. Behind him, Emerson clutches her tablet, and two guards I don’t recognize flank them, weapons drawn.

“Get her,” Creed snaps.

The guards drag me from bed. I don’t fight; no point wasting strength I’ll need later.

“What’s happening? Where’s Hargen?” I ask, though I already know. The normal routines are shattered tonight.

And where is Allard? Three days, he’d promised. Three days until freedom. Was it a lie? Or has something gone terribly wrong?

Is that why they’re here?

Terror chills the marrow in my bones as I imagine what they’ll do to me if that’s the case.

Creed leads our grim procession toward a different extraction chamber—deeper in the facility, with heavier doors and stronger dampening fields.

“Where is she?” Creed demands after they’ve strapped me down.

“Who?” I meet his gaze, defiant despite the fear clawing up my spine.

This isn’t about the escape. It’s worse. It’s about my child.

His hand cracks across my face, the blow snapping my head sideways. Stars burst behind my eyes, copper flooding my mouth.

“Don’t play games, witch. Your daughter is gone. Stolen by Malakai Steele and his Circle zealots.”

Steele! The name confirms my worst fears—the limping dragon from my visions. The ancient threat I tried to warn Allard about.

“You lost her,” I say, tasting blood. “Careless.”

Another blow, harder this time.

“You knew,” he hisses. “You’ve seen this in your visions. Steele taking her.”

“The images aren’t always clear,” I reply, mustering what dignity I can.

“Well, now you’ll help us find her.” He straightens, nodding to Emerson. “Bring the Shard.”

Cold seeps through my veins. The Shard. They want me to use it to track Elena—to reach across the distance and find my daughter’s magical signature.

To help them hunt her.

“I can’t.” I struggle against the restraints. “That’s not how it works.”

“We both know you’re lying. The Shard connects to the Rossewyn line. Your daughter shares your lineage.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then she dies.” He shrugs, the casual gesture more terrifying than any threat. “Steele won’t hesitate to burn her out once he’s done with her. He’s Circle of Fire. Anything non-dragon is disposable to them.”

“Like the way you see me?” My voice is bitter.

“Worse,” he doesn’t pull any punches.

Emerson returns with the Shard, now mounted in a metallic frame with silver wires connected to a modified extraction apparatus.

“What have you done to it?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

“Modifications,” Emerson attaches electrodes to my temples. “Enhanced conductivity. Direct neural interface.”

“You can’t.” Panic rises, sharp and bright. “The Shard wasn’t designed for this.”

“Your daughter’s life hangs in the balance, Lila,” Creed says, cold and implacable. “Find her before Steele breaks her, and you both might survive this.”

He’s lying. I see it in his eyes. Even if I help them find Elena, they’ll never let either of us go.

But if I don’t try, Elena faces Steele alone.

“Why isn’t Hargen here?” I ask, stalling. “The binding requires his presence.”

“Not anymore,” Emerson activates the apparatus. “This circumvents the need for a buffer.”

The machine hums to life. The Shard’s glow intensifies, energy crackling through the wires into my skull. Fire explodes behind my eyes.

I reach through the pain for the fragile connection I’ve always maintained with Elena. The Shard’s energy follows my intent, amplifying the bond between mother and daughter.

Images flicker across my mind—fractured, jumbled. Elena bound to a chair. A dark cave. Dripping water.

“She’s underground,” I gasp, blood trickling from my nose. “But I sense the city above.”

“The underground system beneath Seattle,” Emerson says, fingers flying across her tablet.

“Specific location,” Creed demands.

I push harder, following the thread of connection. Pain lances through my skull, but I don’t stop. Elena needs me.

“Beneath the old city district,” I manage. “She’s afraid.”

“What’s Steele planning?” Creed leans closer, eagerness bleeding through his professional mask.

A vision slams into me with the force of a physical blow.

Steele forcing Elena’s hands onto the Heartstone—activating ancient magic. Wards failing, locks opening. Power surging through the building.

And behind it all, fire raining from the sky.

“They’re using her to access the Heartstone,” I choke out. “Tonight.”

While Creed and Emerson turn away, urgently discussing extraction plans, I close my eyes and surrender to the Shard differently. Not submission to their machine, but to the ancient connection it amplifies between mother and daughter.

“Elena,” I whisper internally, following our bond. The Shard’s power flows through me, channeled by maternal desperation.

Don’t let them break you, my love. Fight!

The effort tears something vital inside me—too much power forced through channels never designed to bear it.

“What’s going on with her?” Creed’s voice comes from a distance.

“She’s exceeding safety parameters,” Emerson warns.

“Switch it off. We’ve got what we need.”

The connection severs abruptly, leaving me gasping and disoriented.

“Secure her in medical,” Creed orders. “We’ll need her later.”

They leave me strapped to the chair, blood cooling on my skin. Did Elena hear me? Does she know I tried to warn her?

Different guards drag me to medical, dumping me onto a bed. A nurse cleans my face with impersonal efficiency before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The door slides open an hour later, footsteps approaching my bed. I turn my head, expecting the doctor.

Instead, Hargen stands there, face drawn with concern. “My God,” he whispers, moving to my side. “What have they done to you?”

“The Shard.” My voice catches, throat raw. “Modified interface. Direct neural connection.”

His hands are gentle as he examines me, checking the wounds on my wrists, the bruising on my face. “They could have killed you.”

“They didn’t care.” Bitterness coats my words. “They want Elena. Steele has her.”

“I know.” He releases a breath. “Creed’s mobilizing everyone for an assault on Craven Industries.”

“They’ll destroy her, Hargen.” The words tear from me. “The Syndicate, the Circle… She’s just a tool to them. A means to access the Heartstone.”

His hand covers mine, warm and steady when everything else feels like it’s falling apart. “I’m sorry, Lila.”

The genuine pain in his voice breaks what little composure I have left. Tears spill hot down my cheeks, sobs wracking my abused body.

“She doesn’t even know what she is,” I choke out. “What they want from her. She’s been alone. I left her alone. And now…”

“Shhh.” He brushes hair from my face, his touch achingly gentle. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I should have been stronger.” Self-hatred burns through the pain. “Should have found a way out years ago. Found her. Protected her.”

“You did protect her,” he insists. “You endured this place to keep her safe.”

“And now it was for nothing.”

He doesn’t offer empty platitudes; just stays beside me, his presence a comfort in the storm of my grief.

“I have to get out to her, Hargen. You have to help me.” The hope of escape I’d been clinging to feels like a distant memory now. Allard had planted a seed in my heart, and I’m suddenly realizing the importance I’d attached to it. A part of me had truly imagined it could happen.

Hargen’s jaw tightens. “If there was anything that could be done, I would do it, Lila. I swear it. But the way things are right now…” He pulls in a deep breath, glancing around. “Security has never been tighter.”

I fight back a sob, feeling more powerless than I ever have. “I don’t care. I have to try.”

His expression clouds. “You’re in no condition to move, let alone escape. You need time to heal.”

“I don’t have time.” I struggle to sit up. “My daughter doesn’t have time.”

He presses me back gently but firmly. “Listen to me, Lila. I want to help you—both of you. But rushing into this will get you killed before you even reach the outer gates.”

“Then what do you suggest? Lie here while they take my daughter?”

His jaw tightens. “Give me time. Time to secure supplies, disable the remaining security protocols, create a diversion.”

“We don’t have time,” I argue. “Steele already has her. The Syndicate is going after them both.”

“And you think you can stop either of them?” His voice gentles, taking the sting from the words. “Look at yourself, Lila. You can barely lift your head.”

The truth of his assessment cuts deep. I’m broken, spent, body failing, magic drained to dangerous levels. But how can I remain here, helpless, while Elena faces horrors I’ve endured for too long?

“I need to find Reeve,” I say instead. “He has connections outside. Resources.”

Something flickers across Hargen’s face—hurt, perhaps, or jealousy. “Reeve is gone. Creed took him for the assault.”

The news hits harder than it should. I’d counted on Allard being here, on the strange connection that draws me to him despite every instinct for self-preservation.

“Then it’s just us,” I whisper.

Hargen’s hand tightens around mine. “It always has been.”

The simple truth of that statement washes over me. Through years of pain and resistance, Hargen has been my constant. Not a friend, exactly, but not truly my captor, either. Something undefined that exists in the space between protector and prisoner, bound by magic and shared secrets.

“I can’t let this happen,” I admit. “Not after fighting so long to keep her safe.”

“I know.” His face softens with compassion that makes my heart ache. “Rest now. Let the medication work. We’ll find a way, Lila. I promise.”

The drugs pull at me, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. I fight it, desperate to stay conscious, to plan, to act.

“Hargen.” My voice slurs as the medication takes hold. “If Reeve comes back… tell him…”

“Tell him what?” He leans closer, something vulnerable in his expression.

What would I say to Allard? That I’m sorry? That I trust him after all? That the brief moments of connection between us felt more real than anything I’ve experienced since I got here?

Or would I tell him to forget me, focus on Elena, leave me to the fate I’ve endured for too long?

“Just…” I struggle against the encroaching darkness. “Help him find my daughter.”

Resignation flashes across Hargen’s face. “I will. Now rest.”

As consciousness fades, my thoughts scatter. Elena, terrified and alone. Allard, fighting battles I can only imagine. And Hargen, steadfast beside me despite everything that’s happened.

I don’t know who to turn to anymore. Who to trust. Whose arms would feel like safety in a world that’s never been safe.

The old familiar Hargen, whose quiet care has sustained me. Whose loyalty is guaranteed by magic but feels like something more.

Or Allard, dangerous and new, who makes me feel things I’d forgotten existed. Whose touch awakened hunger I’d buried beneath practicality and survival.

But what does it all matter when somewhere beyond these walls, my daughter faces monsters alone?

Please, let her be stronger than I was. Let her survive what’s coming.

The thought follows me into dreams of fire and war and dragons revealed to a world unprepared for their existence.

The beginning of the end, with Elena at its center.

And me, trapped in the same cage that’s held me for too long, unable to save the only thing that ever mattered.