“Sounds lovely,” Cade mutters.
I roll my eyes at his sarcasm, but a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. For a brief second, things feel almost… normal.
“Wait.” I reach for the Viridian folder still resting on the couch and pull out the small grainy photo of the girl behind the glass. “Can I keep this?”
Cade drops the folder onto the table with a soft thud. “Sure, I don’t need it.”
I slide the photo into the inside pocket of my jacket, pressing it flat against my chest like it might whisper answers if I keep it close enough.
“I might try to contact her later. The photo will help.” My voice is quiet, thoughtful.
We step outside, the cold air biting against our skin as we pile into the SUV. The image of the girl still lingers in my mind—those light eyes, that hospital gown, her face caught in a moment that looks too much like mine.
Who are you?
And what the hell are you to me?
Chapter Seven
LOG SEVEN – COGNITIVE DISSONANCE DETECTED: SHE SAID, “I USED TO BE SOMEONE.” I DIDN’T ASK WHO.
Aurora spendsthe next thirty minutes of the drive spilling everything that’s happened to her since we were torn apart. She bounced from house to house, passed through a couple of auctions, until her gift started to evolve. She didn’t merely heat things anymore. She could ignite them. Melt steel. Reach temperatures no human should be able to withstand.
That’s when someone finally took notice.
A buyer from the Southern District—rich, connected to the black market—snatched her up. Not political, not affiliated with any of the ruling families. A weaponsmith with deep pockets and a hunger for power. He treated her… well enough, she says. Used her to melt and mold metal faster than any furnace. Her hands created blades that could cut through anything, shaping parts that no forge could match. She was his secret weapon. His edge.
But then he made the mistake of owing the wrong men money.
That’s when everything changed. She was taken one night, ripped from his estate by men she’s sure were working forViktor, and locked away in one of the holding cells beneath that cursed barn, waiting to be sold again or worse. She spent weeks there, half starved and terrified, until the night we found her. Her and a boy named Freddy.
I remember him now. The one with the wide eyes and the bruised ribs. She tells me he can breathe underwater, something that sounds almost laughable out here in the cold mountains. I don’t know how useful a gift like that really is, but apparently, Bash does. She hasn’t seen much of him since. He’s been working directly with Bash in the lab since they arrived here.
“I hate to ruin what’s been a surprisingly good day, but we’re almost to Irina’s, and while I’ve got you both trapped in here, I need to know how you really feel about pulling Malachi into the loop with us.” I scrunch my nose, bracing myself.
They speak in unison. “Absolutely not.”
Aurora follows it up immediately. “Are you crazy? We don’t even know if we can trust him. He’s too close to all of this.”
I let out a long, slow sigh. “I know I haven’t known him that long, but I trust him and care about him. And if I’m being honest, we need him. We can’t raid these labs or uncover whatever the hell Marco is doing without his help.”
Aurora leans back in her seat, her arms crossed. Cade takes it from there.
“I don’t know if we can trust him either, Kat. I’ve known him longer than you have. Yeah, he usually tries to do the right thing, but he’s deep in the Syndicate. Irina is his aunt. And Marco?—”
“Marco is my fucking nightmare,” I cut in. “And Malachi isn’t him.”
“I’m not saying he is, but Aurora’s right. He’s too close.”
I cross my arms, staring out the windshield, frustrationbuilding like a slow burn in my chest. “Too close? I’m at the center of all of this and want him involved. What’s your plan otherwise? The three of us sneak off with a couple of knives and storm secret facilities on our own? You think we’ll get far?”
Cade stares out the window, the snow-covered trees blurring past. When he finally looks back at the road, his voice is quieter.
“Alright, Kat. You’re right. It would be easier if we had his help, but we have to be careful. We don’t know who we can trust. I don’t even trust everyone in Solace anymore. The Syndicate could have spies. My team could have spies.”
I breathe out slowly, relieved.
“But don’t rush it,” Cade continues. “Give it a day. Feel him out. Ask hard questions. Be smart. After that, if you still believe he belongs in this, then tell him.”
