"Rollo's gone."
Blake blinked. "Where?"
"A royal meeting," Caelum said. "With the King. High council's assembling for something... large. Likely political."
Blake narrowed his eyes. "So that's why you had time to come."
Caelum nodded. "He'll be back in three days. And when he returns—"
His expression hardened.
"—you'll be questioned. Tortured. Then executed. Publicly."
Blake's jaw tensed.
Caelum stepped closer, voice more urgent now. "We don't have time. But we do have one opportunity."
Blake listened in silence.
"In two days, the estate is due for a full restocking. Every few weeks, a massive caravan enters the manor—supplies, food, armor, fabrics, medicine, everything. It's the only time outsiders are allowed past the gates without full inspection."
Blake's eyes sharpened. "And you want me to hide in it."
Caelum nodded. "I'll come get you out of this cell. Once inside the caravan, you can hide and escape without anyone noticing. It'll leave the compound by evening—then, you'll be out."
Blake's gaze dropped to the floor, thoughts racing. It could work.
But then his voice turned cold.
"I didn't come here to escape."
Caelum frowned. "What?"
Blake raised his eyes, ice in them now.
"I came for Mirai."
Caelum went quiet.
"If I leave without her, none of this matters," Blake said. "They're going to extract her Soulbrand. Sell it."
"I know."
Blake stepped forward, voice steel.
"Then help me get her."
Caelum held his stare… then slowly nodded.
"I'll go to Felix. I'll get her out."
Blake looked surprised for half a second.
"Can you even get access to her?"
"I'm still a son of the house," Caelum replied. "And Felix still trusts me more than he should. I'll find a way."
Blake exhaled. "Take her to the cave."
Caelum raised a brow.
"The one near the ridge," Blake clarified. "The one I used to escape through. Malrek will be waiting. He'll take her from there."
Caelum gave a short nod. "And you?"
Blake's lips curved into a faint, tired smirk.
"I'll come through when it's time. Let them think they've still got me caged."
The two brothers stood in silence. Not as pawns anymore. But as co-conspirators.
Caelum looked toward the corridor. "We should move. If a guard sees the cell open—"
"Then we play the part," Blake said. "Chains back on. I'll act broken. You act better."
Caelum smirked. "Just like when we were boys."
"No," Blake said quietly. "Not like then."
This time, they were on the same side.
Caelum stepped out. Blake followed to the bars, his voice low one last time:
"Don't fail me."
"I won't," Caelum said, locking the cell again from outside. "For the first time in my life, little brother… I finally know what side I'm on."
He disappeared into the shadows.
And Blake stood there, once more behind bars—
—but no longer alone.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
The door to Felix's lab was unlocked.
Too unlocked.
He pushed it open with one gloved hand.
The room beyond was dimly lit by a few glass orbs floating near the ceiling, glowing with pale blue light. Shelves of books and vials lined the walls, filled with liquids that shimmered unnaturally. A long table stood at the center—cluttered with papers, scalpels, and strange tools Caelum didn't recognize.
But the room was empty.
Felix was gone.
Caelum stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. His boots touched stone like whispers.
Then he saw them.
Papers—scattered across the table in uneven stacks. Some pinned down by iron clips, others curling at the edges from spilled alchemical fluids. Curiosity gnawed at him. He reached for the topmost sheet.
His eyes scanned it.
Dissection diagrams.
Not animals. Not practice dolls.
Humans.
Skinned muscle. Organs labeled in precise calligraphy. Notes scribbled in the margins—"stabilization failed," "manacore separation inconclusive," "subject expired after neural split."
Another page: mannequins. Hollow vessels shaped like people, some mid-process of being infused with glowing stones where hearts should be.
What the hell is he doing?
Caelum flipped to another page and froze.
Mirai's face.
Drawn in ink, carefully. Coldly. She was labeled: "Specimen A. Deviant Soulbrand. Natural camouflage-type."
A rustle. Behind him. Caelum turned fast. Felix stood in the doorway. Thin, pale, and sharper than he looked. His eyes squinted behind his spectacles, and he didn't smile.
"You're a long way from the manor, Caelum."
Caelum straightened casually. "Just checking on the prisoner."
Felix stepped into the room, closing the door with a deliberate click. "Since when does the heir to House Tempest snoop through my research notes?"
"I wasn't snooping," Caelum lied smoothly. "I wanted to see how Mirai was holding up. She's valuable. Father wouldn't want her damaged."
Felix tilted his head. "She's not here."
"I can see that."
"She's in the country state prison," Felix said, watching him closely. "Tightly secured. I asked for her to be transferred here tomorrow. We'll begin separation protocols once I complete the stabilizing agent."
Caelum nodded, playing the role. "Fine. Just make sure the product stays intact. Rollo wouldn't want a damaged... asset."
Felix's eyes flicked back to the notes. "You seem unusually interested."
Caelum shrugged. "I take after Father. I like to know what belongs to me."
Felix's lips twitched at that. Not quite a smile.
"Don't do anything stupid," Felix added, stepping past him toward the door.
Felix didn't stop him. But his eyes followed Caelum out.
Mirai wasn't in the lab. But she was close. One day left. Just one more night before they moved her into the lion's mouth.
Caelum would have to move fast.
The cell was silent.
Blake lay curled against the cold stone floor, breathing slowly, fitfully. His body ached. His skin was covered in dried blood and old bruises. But the pain was nothing compared to the weight in his chest.
He was dreaming.
Screams echoed in the dark. His own.
Chains burned into his wrists. A white light above. The scent of rust and incense. And shadows—two of them.
Rollo. Felix.
Standing above him. Smiling.
He could still feel the blade tracing symbols into his skin. Hear the hum of Felix's instruments. The casual cruelty. The boredom in Rollo's voice as he ordered another dose. Another cut. Another round of silence.
He wanted to scream. But he couldn't breathe.
He snapped awake.
Gasping.
His heart pounded in his ears as he stared into the cell's ceiling. Sweat rolled down his temples. He sat up slowly, blinking in the dim torchlight.
One day left.
Then the sound came.
The door opened.
Steel boots stomped in. Two guards entered.
They said nothing. Just unlocked his chains and dragged him out of the cell. Blake didn't resist. His limbs felt heavy, his heart hollow.
They hauled him through the corridors of Tempest Manor until they reached a room with a long table and a single chair. Waiting at the far end of the table… was Rollo. Blake froze.
He's supposed to be at the palace.
The guards shoved him down onto the seat across from his father. Rollo poured tea into two cups, calm and polished as always. Blake didn't touch the drink. He only glared.
Rollo sipped his cup, then set it down neatly.
"I thought I'd introduce you to someone."
Blake didn't respond.
Rollo gestured toward the door. A moment later, a young man stepped in.
Shorter than Blake. Younger, too. His hair was a pale blond, but a strand of red ran through it like fire. His eyes were deep crimson. Cold. Expressionless.
"I'm Darius," he said. "Rollo's fourth son."
Blake's head jerked slightly. Another figure entered behind Darius.
Judith.