Elara's POV
I wake up to the smell of coffee and the horrible realization that I'm still alive.
Still bonded.
Still trapped.
For a second, I consider staying on this couch forever. But my phone buzzes again three more messages from the unknown number, each one a photo that makes my stomach drop.
The first: a boy's hand, thin and pale, wearing a bracelet I'd recognize anywhere. The one I gave Marcus for his thirteenth birthday.
The second: today's newspaper held by that same hand. Proof of life.
The third: just words. Noon. Central Park. East fountain. Come alone or he dies.
Let me see.
I jump. Caspian is standing right behind the couch, reading over my shoulder. Through the bond, I feel his anger spike.
How long have you been awake? I demand.
Long enough to feel your panic through the bond. He takes my phone before I can stop him, studying the photos. This is definitely a trap.
I don't care.
You should. He hands the phone back. Whoever has your brother knows about the bond. They're counting on you being desperate enough to walk right into their hands.
Then what do you suggest? Let Marcus die?
No. Caspian's jaw tightens. We go together. Carefully. With backup.
The message said alone.
The message is a lie. He heads toward the kitchen. Kidnappers always lie. Coffee?
I follow him, hating that he's making sense. Hating more that I can feel his genuine concern through the bond he actually cares about helping me.
The kitchen is all white marble and stainless steel. Caspian moves around it like he actually knows how to cook, which surprises me. I expected him to have servants for everything.
He pours two cups of coffee, slides one across the counter to me.
We need a plan, he says. Adrian can position security around the park. Hidden. If things go wrong
When things go wrong, I correct.
When things go wrong, he agrees, we'll have backup ready.
I sip the coffee. It's perfect exactly how I like it, which is weird until I realize: the bond. He felt my preference through our connection.
This is so messed up, I mutter.
Agreed. He leans against the counter, studying me. Tell me about your brother. What was he like?
Why do you care?
Because in four hours, we're walking into a potential death trap to save him. I'd like to know who we're saving.
Fair point.
Marcus was... bright, I say slowly. Smart. Too smart for his own good sometimes. He loved puzzles, magic theory, anything that made him think. My throat tightens. He was supposed to be at a friend's house the night of the fire. But he came home early. Wrong place, wrong time.
Through the bond, I feel Caspian's guilt intensify.
I'm sorry, he says quietly.
Stop apologizing. It doesn't change anything.
Maybe not. But I mean it anyway.
We drink our coffee in silence. The city sprawls below us through the massive windows. Somewhere out there, my brother is alive. After nine years of thinking he was dead, he's alive.
And someone's been torturing him this whole time.
I need to call Isolde, I say abruptly.
Your friend from last night?
I nod. She needs to know what's happening.
Caspian gestures toward his phone on the counter. Use the landline. It's more secure.
I dial Isolde's number from memory. She answers on the first ring.
El? Oh my god, are you okay? I've been calling your cell all night
I'm fine. I'm at Caspian Noir's penthouse.
Silence. Then: I'm sorry, WHAT?
I explain everything as quickly as possible. The bond. The shared heartbeat. The message about Marcus.
Holy shit, Isolde breathes when I finish. Marcus is alive?
Maybe. Probably. I don't know. I glance at Caspian, who's pretending not to listen while obviously listening. We're meeting whoever has him at noon.
We? You and Murder CEO?
Despite everything, I almost smile. His name is Caspian. And yes. We're bonded, Isolde. Where I go, he goes.
This is insane. You need backup. Real backup, not just
I have backup. Caspian's security team.
Another pause. You trust him?
Do I? Two days ago, I wanted him dead. Now I can feel his heartbeat in my chest, his emotions in my head, his genuine desire to help.
I don't have a choice, I say finally.
That's not what I asked.
Caspian is watching me now, those gray eyes intense.
Yeah, I admit. I think I do.
After I hang up, Caspian makes breakfast. Actual breakfast eggs, toast, fruit. We eat in awkward silence until his phone rings.
Adrian, he says, putting it on speaker. What did you find?
You're not going to like this, boss. Adrian's voice crackles through. I ran background on Vivienne Thorne like you asked. Her financials are... interesting.
How interesting?
She's been receiving monthly payments from an offshore account for the past nine years. Same account that paid your uncle Viktor right before the Thorne massacre.
My fork clatters to my plate.
You're saying my aunt was involved? My voice sounds distant. Wrong.
I'm saying she's been getting paid by whoever orchestrated the attack. Adrian pauses. There's more. The account is still active. Last payment was three days ago. Right before you showed up at the gala.
The room spins. My aunt. The woman who cried at my parents' funeral. Who I thought was the only family I had left.
She helped murder them.
Through the bond, I feel Caspian's anger protective, fierce. He reaches across the table, covers my hand with his.
We'll make her pay, he says quietly. I promise.
There's something else, Adrian continues. I tracked the location where those photos were sent from. It's not Central Park.
Where? Caspian demands.
The old Thorne estate. East wing, basement level.
My childhood home. The place where my family died.
It's a trap, I whisper.
Definitely, Adrian agrees. But here's the thing thermal imaging shows someone's there. Small heat signature, confined space. Could be your brother.
Could be. Maybe. Possibly.
Not good enough.
But also my only chance.
We're going, I say.
Caspian doesn't argue. Adrian, get the team ready. Full tactical gear. We leave in thirty minutes.
We hang up and start preparing. Caspian disappears into his room, comes back wearing all black, carrying a gun that hums with magical energy.
You know how to shoot? he asks.
I know how to do a lot of things.
He hands me a smaller weapon. Safety's here. Point and pull. The bullets are enchanted they'll stop anyone with hostile intent.
I take the gun, feeling its weight. Nine years ago, I was a college student worried about exams. Now I'm armed and preparing to raid my childhood home to save my brother from my own aunt.
How did my life become this?
Ready? Caspian asks.
No. Not even close.
Yes, I lie.
We head for the door together. The bond pulls us into sync same stride, same breathing, same racing heartbeat.
But as we step into the elevator, my phone buzzes one final time.
Different number. Different message.
The boy isn't the only thing your aunt has been hiding. Ask Caspian about the real reason his parents died. Ask him what Viktor discovered the night he murdered them. Some secrets are worth killing for. A Friend
I look at Caspian. His face is calm, focused.
But through the bond, I feel something else.
Fear.
And the sickening certainty that he knows exactly what this message is about.
Caspian, I say slowly. What happened to your parents? The real story.
His jaw tightens. Not now.
Not now? We're about to walk into a death trap together and you're keeping secrets?
It's complicated.
Try me.
The elevator descends. Twenty floors. Fifteen. Ten.
My parents, he says finally, voice tight. They didn't die in a territory war like everyone thinks. Viktor killed them. Because they found out what he was planning.
Planning what?
Five floors. Three.
To create an empire. By eliminating every powerful magical family that could challenge him. Caspian meets my eyes. Including yours. Your family wasn't the first, Elara. And they weren't supposed to be the last.
The elevator doors open.
Viktor had a list, Caspian whispers. Twelve families. Yours was number seven.
Where's the list now?
I don't know. I've been searching for it for six years.
And if someone else has it
Then five families are still in danger.
We step into the lobby, into the waiting car where Adrian sits ready with a team of armed guards.
But all I can think is: what if my aunt doesn't just have Marcus?
What if she has Viktor's list?
And what if Caspian and I just became targets number eight and nine?