Chapter 10: The Shattered Silence
The security feed glitched at exactly 12:06 a.m.
Inside a sleek underground operations room covered underneath the shell of a London-based cybersecurity firm, red emergency lights flickered against metallic walls. Data streams danced across glass screens in a dozen languages. One by one, alert sirens chimed low, coded notes only those aware and related could understand what it meant.
At the center, a massive obsidian table pulsed to life.
Lucien Thorne was already standing there, jaw tight. He wore an immaculate navy suit, his blue eyes narrowed at the symbol now burned down across the main screen. The sigil of the Veil Court, resurrected in red blood static.
"He's risen," he said, voice calm despite the weight in the room. "Damian is awake."
Across from him, Cassius Vale caused under his breath and slammed his fist on the table. "You said we had weeks and even months. So what the hell just happened?".
"We did," Eve murmured, her golden hair catching the light as she adjusted her glasses. "Until she called him."
"The girl?" Cass sneered. "She doesn't even know who she is."
Lucien's fingers tapped a command into the table. A 3D map of Veyruhn appeared centered on the cathedral. At its heart, a red pulse flaring.
"She doesn't need to remember," Seraphina said from her darkened corner, her voice dry. "Her soul does. Their bond predates memory. Predates even the first war."
"You're all missing the point," Rook added, calm and unsettlingly quiet. "He's no longer beneath the stone. Which means we're already behind."
A cold silence fell.
The Order had existed for centuries an ever-shifting force of scholars, warriors, and seers sworn to one purpose: To keep balance between the ancient houses of night and the mortal world. Damian Valerius had once been the greatest threat to that balance.
He was also the most tragic I'd them all..
Lucien folded his hands behind his back. "We need confirmation, visual, thermal, arcane. I want full satellite sweep of the Veyruhn area. I want all arcane sensors recalibrated. And I want eyes on Elian Darrow."
Seraphina hesitated. "She's just a girl, Lucien. A student. She doesn't know what she's caught in."
"She's not just a girl," Cass snarled. "She's the reincarnated soul of the one who broke the truce last time. She made the vow with him. She chose him. Again."
Evangeline spoke softly, her voice almost reverent. "If the bond has reawakened… then perhaps fate is trying to correct what the Order might have done centuries ago."
Cass glared at her. "Don't you start. Don't you dare romanticize this."
"She has a point," Rook interjected. "We've been hiding from what we did. Pretending sealing him away was justice. But we weren't meant to win. We just stopped time."
Lucien's voice sliced through the debate like steel. "This is not the time to question our legacy. Our duty is balance. Damian Valerius was once a prince of the Veil Court. If he rises fully, he would be sure to collapse the entire supernatural equilibrium."
"And if she awakens too?" Seraphina asked quietly.
Lucien didn't answer.
Instead, he brought up a live feed grainy surveillance from outside the cathedral in Veyruhn. A single figure had paused in the rain earlier that night, her hands pressed to the iron door. Her breath had fogged the lens. Her voice, too soft to capture clearly, had echoed against something not made for human ears.
"Elian," Lucien whispered.
She had called him.
Not with a spell. Not with blood.
But with longing.
And he had answered.