THALIA POV
The coffee tastes wrong.
I stare at the cup in my hand, my brain trying to catch up with what my tongue already knows. Bitter. Too bitter. Cassius never makes it this strong.
"Drink up, sweetheart," Cassius says behind me, his voice smooth as honey. "Big day today. You need the energy."
My fingers tighten around the warm cup. He's right. Today, I present six years of research to the United Nations. Six years of late nights, failed experiments, and breakthrough moments that made me cry happy tears. My Mediator Protocol could stop wars before they start. It could save millions of lives.
And I'm terrified I'll mess it up.
"What if they don't like it?" I whisper, turning to face my fiancé. "What if I freeze up there and forget everything?"
Cassius crosses our small apartment and cups my face with both hands. He's handsome in that classic way—sharp jaw, perfect smile, eyes that crinkle when he laughs. We've been together for four years. He proposed six months ago with my grandmother's ring.
"Thalia," he says softly. "You're the smartest person I know. They're going to love it because it's brilliant. Because you're brilliant."
My chest warms. This is why I love him. He always knows what to say when anxiety tries to eat me alive.
"Now drink your coffee before it gets cold," he says, kissing my forehead. "I'll grab the presentation files from the office and meet you at the UN building, okay?"
I nod and take another sip. Still too bitter, but I force it down. Cassius grabs his jacket and leaves, whistling cheerfully.
I finish the coffee, trying to pump myself up. You've got this, Thalia. You've practiced this presentation a hundred times. You know every slide, every statistic, every—
The room tilts sideways.
I grab the counter, confused. My vision blurs at the edges. The mug slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor. I try to call for help, but my tongue feels thick and useless in my mouth.
What's happening?
My legs give out. I crash to the floor, broken ceramic cutting my palms. Pain flares but feels distant, like it's happening to someone else. My eyelids are so heavy. I try to fight it, but darkness swallows me whole.
I wake up to bright lights burning my eyes.
My head pounds like someone's hitting it with a hammer. I try to lift my hand to block the light, but I can't move. Panic explodes in my chest. I can't move. Why can't I move?
"Ah, you're awake. Perfect timing."
That voice. I know that voice.
I force my eyes open despite the painful light. I'm strapped to a metal table with thick leather restraints around my wrists, ankles, and chest. The room is cold and white and filled with equipment I don't recognize. Machines with blinking lights. Computers showing numbers that make no sense.
And a huge screen on the wall showing a conference room full of people in expensive suits.
The UN presentation hall.
My presentation hall.
"Thank you all for coming today," a familiar voice says from the screen. "I'm Dr. Cassius Moran, and I'm here to present the Mediator Protocol—a revolutionary conflict resolution system that will change how we approach international disputes."
No.
No, no, no.
That's MY research. MY protocol. MY six years of work.
I try to scream, but there's tape over my mouth. I thrash against the restraints, but they don't budge. Tears pour down my face as I watch Cassius—my fiancé, the man I trusted with everything—present my life's work as his own.
He's smooth. Confident. Charming. The UN representatives lean forward, fascinated. He clicks through MY slides, explains MY theories, answers questions with MY words.
He's stealing everything.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
I turn my head so fast my neck cracks. Cassius stands beside my table, looking down at me with an expression I've never seen before. Cold. Empty. Like I'm a bug he's about to crush.
"That's a recording from this morning," he says casually. "You've been unconscious for three hours. The presentation went perfectly, by the way. They loved it. I already have five military contractors bidding for exclusive rights."
Military contractors? Our research was supposed to prevent wars, not help armies fight them better!
I make muffled, desperate sounds behind the tape. Cassius sighs and rips it off. I gasp in air and immediately scream, "You STOLE my research! That's MY work! Everyone knows we're partners—they'll figure it out!"
"Will they?" Cassius tilts his head, studying me like I'm a stranger. "I've been very careful, Thalia. All the files are in my name now. All the emails show me as the primary researcher. Your contributions are listed as 'research assistance.' Basic data entry stuff."
My blood turns to ice. "You've been planning this? For how long?"
"About a year." He says it so easily, like he's telling me what he had for breakfast. "Once I realized how valuable the Mediator Protocol could be, I knew I couldn't share credit. The military applications alone are worth fifty million dollars. But only if I control it completely."
"You... you asked me to marry you." My voice breaks. "Was that fake too?"
Something flickers across his face. For a second, I think I see the man I loved. Then it's gone.
"You were convenient," he says flatly. "Brilliant but insecure. Easy to manipulate. You trusted me with everything—your research, your passwords, your future. You made this so simple, Thalia."
Each word is a knife in my chest. Four years. Four years of my life loving someone who saw me as a tool to exploit.
"Why am I tied up?" I force the words out through my tears. "If you've already stolen everything, just let me go. I'll... I'll disappear. I won't tell anyone."
We both know I'm lying. He knows it too.
Cassius walks to one of the machines and starts pressing buttons. It hums to life, vibrating the whole room. A strange smell fills the air—like lightning and burning metal.
"I can't let you go," he says, not looking at me. "You're the only person who can prove I stole the research. Your testimony would destroy everything I've built."
Terror claws up my throat. "Cassius, please—"
"This is a dimensional rift device," he continues like I didn't speak. "My secondary project. It tears holes between parallel dimensions. We've sent objects through, but never a living person. The calculations suggest anything organic gets torn apart in the void between worlds."
My heart stops. "You're going to kill me."
"I'm going to make you disappear," he corrects, finally meeting my eyes. "No body means no crime. No evidence. Just a brilliant researcher who tragically vanished before her big presentation."
"CASSIUS!" I scream as he moves toward the machine's controls. "Please! I love you! We were going to get married! Doesn't that mean anything?"
His finger hovers over a large red button. For one horrible second, I think he's going to change his mind. That the man I loved is still in there somewhere.
Then he presses it.
The machine roars like a living thing. Reality starts to crack around me—literally crack, like glass shattering in mid-air. Colors I've never seen before bleed through the fractures. The smell of burning metal gets stronger. My skin feels like it's being pulled in every direction at once.
"I'm sorry it had to be this way," Cassius says, his voice barely audible over the machine's screaming. "For what it's worth, I did care about you. Once."
The cracks spread wider. Through them, I see impossible things: red skies, purple lightning, mountains that touch stars. Another world. Another dimension.
The machine screams louder.
The restraints pop open, but it doesn't matter. I'm floating now, being pulled toward the cracks in reality. I claw at the air, trying to grab something, anything. My fingers pass through everything like I'm already a ghost.
"HELP!" I scream one last time. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
But Cassius just watches with those dead eyes as his machine tears me away from reality itself.
The world shatters.
I fall through colors and screaming winds and terrible cold. I'm dying. I must be dying. Nothing could survive this.
Then everything goes black, and I know nothing at all.
Somewhere else. Somewhere impossible.
I wake up screaming.
My body hits hard ground, knocking the air from my lungs. Pain explodes everywhere—my left arm bent wrong, my ribs grinding against each other, something warm and wet spreading across my face.
Blood. I'm bleeding.
I force my eyes open. I'm lying in grass, but it's the wrong color—deep crimson, like someone painted it with blood. The sky above is purple with two moons hanging in it. Two moons. That's impossible.
Trees surround me, but they're massive, bigger than any trees I've ever seen. Their bark is silver and their leaves glow faintly in the strange twilight.
This isn't Earth.
Terror and wonder and pain crash over me in waves. Where am I? What happened? Am I dead?
Then I hear it.
A low, rumbling growl from somewhere in the crimson grass.
I try to sit up, but my broken arm screams in protest. I manage to roll onto my side, gasping. Through my tears and the blood dripping in my eyes, I see massive paw prints in the dirt around me. Each print is bigger than my head.
Something's been circling me while I was unconscious.
The growl comes again, closer now. Deeper. The sound vibrates in my broken ribs.
I'm being hunted.
I try to crawl, but I can barely move. Every inch is agony. The grass rustles behind me—something big moving through it.
Please, I think desperately. Please, I don't want to die like this.
The rustling stops.
I hold my breath, not daring to move. Seconds stretch into hours. Did it leave? Is it gone?
Then a shadow falls over me.
I look up slowly, terrified of what I'll see.
A man stands above me, backlit by the purple sky. But he's not quite a man—he's too big, too powerful, with glowing amber eyes that catch the strange light. Silver-white hair falls around a face that's both beautiful and terrifying.
When he speaks, his voice is a deep growl that makes my bones shake.
"What are you?"