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“If she recovers consciousness, she remains potentially useful,” Creed says with callous indifference. “We still need someone to operate the Shard, and as a Rossewyn, she’s capable. Two witches are better than one, after all.” He grins. “But if she doesn’t recover…” He shrugs. “We’ll train the daughter instead. Test her compatibility with the fragment we have.”

The casual brutality of it threatens to crack my mask. I clench my jaw, forcing down the rage building in my chest. Scales threaten to erupt on my skin as a surge of protectiveness threatens to overwhelm me.

“I’ll need complete files on Elena Ross,” I say, voice steady despite the fire in my lungs. “Background, psychological profile, surveillance parameters.”

“Already uploaded to your secure server,” Emerson confirms. “Along with all intelligence on Craven Industries’ security systems.”

“Excellent.” I step back, eager to escape before my control slips. Before the dragon erupts and burns all these fuckers to a crisp. “I’ll begin preparations immediately.”

“One more thing, Reeve.” Creed’s voice stops me at the door. “Your work here has been… impressive. The witch’s security protocols, your attention to detail. The Director has noticed.” He smiles thinly. “This operation with the daughter will be closely watched.”

“I live to serve the Syndicate’s interests, sir.”

The lie makes me want to wash my mouth out as I leave.

In my quarters, I review everything about Elena Ross. Her address in Seattle. Her client history. The Blackthorn Holdingsapproach strategy. Details that paint a picture of a woman who has no idea of the forces converging around her.

And now Lila lies unconscious, hovering between life and death because she tried to protect this daughter she hasn’t seen in decades.

I pull up the latest medical report on my tablet; no change in her condition. Neural activity remains erratic. No signs of consciousness returning. The prognosis grows bleaker with each passing hour.

My hand tightens around the tablet until the casing creaks in protest. I force myself to set it down before I crush it completely.

Lila needs to wake up. Not just for the intel she has, or the connection she might provide to her daughter, but because the alternative is unacceptable to me. Because the thought of those beautiful eyes never opening again creates a hollow in my chest I can’t explain.

Why didn’t you fucking do something?

I close Elena’s file and bring up the surveillance feed from the medical wing. Hargen sits beside Lila’s bed, his back to the camera, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. His hand rests near hers on the mattress, not quite touching—maintaining propriety for the watching eyes, perhaps, but needing the proximity nonetheless.

The image confirms what I suspected from our conversation. His commitment to her goes far beyond handler and asset. Far beyond the magical binding that connects them.

A potential ally. A shared interest in her survival.

Maybe more?

There’s another burst of jealousy in my chest at the thought of it, but I shove it down. He’ll be useful. For now, that’s enough to work with. A foundation to build on while we wait for Lila to fight her way back to consciousness.

Shehas tofight her way back.

I switch off the feed and lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The Syndicate’s plans march forward. Elena Ross steps unwittingly into their sights. And the woman who gave everything to keep her safe can’t warn her, can’t protect her, can’t even open her eyes.

All I can do is play my role. Watch. Wait. Gather intel for the Collective. Prepare for the moment when action becomes possible.

And hope that Lila’s strength hasn’t finally met its limit.

Chapter 13

Lila

Nothing exists here but fire.

I float in a sea of crimson flame, neither burning nor consumed. Time has no meaning in this place between consciousness and oblivion. No walls. No restraints. No extraction chair digging into my flesh.

Freedom… of a sort.

And uncontrolled visions.

Elena stands in a towering lobby, light streaming through glass walls. Her dark hair catches the sun, highlighting strands of copper I never knew existed. She’s grown into her beauty—my high cheekbones, but a stronger jaw, more determined. More sure of herself than I ever was at her age.

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