Page 105 of Her Soul to Own

“You’re a lifesaver,” she says softly. Then, with a hint of sarcasm, she adds, “Well, sort of.”

I grin, though it’s a tight, humorless grin. “Yeah, don’t get used to it.”

Zara watches me as I stand there, and for a second, I see regret and guilt behind her eyes.She doesn’t need to feel that. The only person who should be suffering is Declan.

“I’ll figure it out,” I add, my voice a little gentler now. “But I need you to do something first. No more secrets and no more half-truths, Zara. You’re with us now. No backing out.”

She doesn’t answer immediately. She just looks at me. Then, she nods slowly, her shoulders sinking a little. “I’m in,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I turn and head for the door again, but before I step out, I pause and glance over my shoulder. “Don’t screw this up.”

She smirks, but there’s a hollow edge to it, like the burden of everything pressing down on her is finally catching up. “I won’t. Promise.”

And with that, I’m gone. I don’t look back as I leave. There’s no need to because the storm’s coming, and it’s already too late for apologies.

I step out of the elevator, my phone vibrating in my hand. I look at the live feed on my phone and see that Lyra’s asleep. That’s good. At least one of us is getting some rest. I glance at the time and note that the city is just starting to wake up, too early for anyone to be looking for answers, though that’s exactly what I’m doing.

I check the map again, my eyes darting over the different red pins marking the key players. Every one of them is a connection, a lie, a shadow waiting to reveal itself. But there’s still more to find. So much more.

The rooftop bar is quiet when I arrive. The sky overhead is a mix of bruised purples and faded pinks, an odd calm before the chaos. The skyline stands indifferent to it all, too busy being pretty for anyone to notice the storm brewing beneath it. I take in a deep breath as the city vibrates with the promise of what’s to come, a far cry from the stale office space I just left.

A familiar face waits for me by the railing, the silhouette cutting a sharp line against the lights of the city. It’s Caleb, an old contact, an ex-NSA hacker with a debt as long as the list of people he’s crossed. Caleb owes me more than one favor. And tonight, it’s time to collect.

I check my phone one more time. Lyra’s feed is active, a single picture of her curled up in bed under the sodium lights. The sight is like a punch in the gut, and I feel a tightening in my chest. She’s always in the center of my thoughts, but this… this is personal. This is more than I can just walk away from.

I shove the phone into my pocket as Caleb looks up. He doesn’t smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the dude smile. He could probably say the same for me. We both know what this is.

“You’re late,” he mutters, his voice raspy, his eyes scanning the city behind me the way he always does before he starts talking.

“There’s a lot we need to deal with,” I reply, my voice impersonal and not giving anything away.

I pull out a few printed pages and pass them to him. He takes them with a nod, flipping through the stack with practiced hands. “This is… a mess,” he says, his voice dripping with understatement.

“Everything about this is a mess.” I light a cigarette and take a slow drag as I lean back against the railing, my gaze following the sweep of the city below. “I want this traced. Every dollar. Every post. I want a map of who Evander paid and who he scared.”

His eyes blink over the papers, and he raises a brow. “Even if it leads back to the Vane estate?”

I exhale a cloud of smoke without blinking. “Especially if it does.”

The night hangs dark between us, and Caleb knows better than to push me. He might be a hacker, but there’s one thing he understands more than coding, and it’s the currency of power and the consequences of crossing me.

“You know what you’re asking for, right?” he murmurs, his fingers hovering over his phone. “This isn’t some easy trace. This could bring down more than just your old man’s name.”

I shrug, flicking the ash from my cigarette. “Then I guess we’ll burn it all down.”

Caleb doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just watches me carefully like he’s weighing the decision in his head. Then, with a deep breath, he nods and pulls his phone from his pocket before tapping quickly on the screen. “I’ll get you the full picture. But you better be ready for what’s coming. This kind of thing doesn’t stay quiet for long.”

I give him a nod. “I’ve been ready for a long time.” The cigarette burns down to the filter, and I flick it over the edge, watching the embers fall into the void below. “Get it done, Caleb. ASAP.”

“You’ll have it,” he says, turning back to the laptop he’s already pulled out. “You know better than to call me if you don’t need real details. This isn’t for the faint of heart.”

With that, I turn on my heel and leave him to his work. I’m done wasting time. There’s no more waiting. The only thing that matters now is the hunt.

Dawn breaks as I return to the estate. The morning light seeps through the blinds in the hallway, casting long shadows along the floor. The house is soundless, and it’s almost haunting. Knowing I’m doing the hunt right now, I’m far from scared.

I make my way upstairs, taking care not to make a sound, just like always. The estate’s lull hangs over me like the calm before a storm. But this time, it’s different. This time, I don’t feel like I’m running toward something. I feel like I’m running away.

I stop outside Lyra’s door. My hand hovers over the handle, my fingers itching to turn it. I know she’s inside, and I know she’s still asleep. Part of me wants to burst through the door, pull her into my arms, and just hold her, tell her it’ll be okay, and that I’ll take care of everything. But I know better. I already did that yesterday, and right now, I can’t afford thatweakness… not when there’s a war waiting on the other side of this house.

---