CHAPTER TWENTY

OLIVIA

I awoke to the soft nuzzling of horses and the sharp cries of baby Luna in my arms. The mingled scents of hay and ash filled my nostrils, the acrid sting an unrelenting reminder of the chaos we had barely escaped. My eyes fluttered open, struggling to adjust to the dim moonlight that filtered through the barn’s wooden slats.

How did I get here?

Fragments of memory clawed at the edges of my consciousness—my mother and Mathias, their faces twisted into cruel masks, the very embodiment of betrayal. The pain of that moment resurfaced, sharp and suffocating.

“Shh, it’s okay, little one,” I murmured to Luna as her wails pierced the oppressive silence. Her tiny body trembled against mine, hungry and terrified. We were all coated in ash, grimy remnants of a nightmare that lingered. Nearby, Reyna huddled close, her face etched with exhaustion and despair. Beside her, Rosie clutched a ragged doll to her chest, clinging to the only comfort she could find in this hellish aftermath.

I tried to stitch together the fractured pieces of how we had ended up here in this fragile refuge. A woman... Zara. Her name whispered in my mind like a fleeting shadow. She had pulled us from the flames, her presence elusive, more specter than savior. “This woman... she saved us,” I mumbled, the words tumbling out as if saying them aloud would make it all more real. “But who is she? Why would she help?”

Panic began to swell in my chest, clawing its way up as names surfaced in a desperate litany. “Is Roman alive? Malik?”

Luna’s cries crescendoed, drawing me back to the present. Her needs, simple and urgent, reminded me of my purpose. With trembling hands, I guided her to my breast, offering the only comfort I could. Slowly, her sobs quieted as she latched on, her tiny body relaxing in my arms. I held her close, my heart aching, torn between boundless love and paralyzing fear.

When Luna finally drifted into a peaceful sleep, her breaths soft and steady, I pushed myself upright. My limbs felt like lead, my head heavy with exhaustion and the weight of unanswered questions. But I couldn’t stay still. I needed to move, see, and piece together the full scope of our nightmare.

As I staggered into the yard, the sight before me stole the breath from my lungs. Where a grand home had once stood, only a burnt husk remained. The blackened and skeletal ruins stood eerily against the pale light of dawn, a cruel echo of Costa’s house… and Emily’s. The fire had consumed them all, reducing everything to ashes and memories.

The devastation laid bare before me was a silent, damning testament to the monsters my mother and Mathias indeed were. They had tried to erase us, to wipe our existence from the fabric of this world. But they had failed. In my arms, I held the most precious part of our future. Luna, blissfully unaware of the ruin surrounding us, slept peacefully, her small, warm body anchoring me to a single purpose. I vowed to protect her from the horrors of our reality, no matter the cost.

Driven by a frantic need to find Roman, I searched the rubble of what was once our sanctuary. He had to be alive. I knew he had left before the fire started—but Malik… Malik might have stayed behind to protect me. I had no way of knowing. I clung to the hope that they had escaped. They had to.

Each step sent clouds of ash swirling around me, stinging my eyes and filling my mouth with the bitter taste of despair. My heart clenched at the silence, every hollow corner and lifeless space where hope should have existed.

“Roman?” My voice cracked, barely audible over the sound of my ragged breaths. I stumbled over a charred beam, the remnants of our haven now reduced to obstacles in a graveyard of memories. Once hidden and fortified by thick walls, the dungeon now lay open to the sky, its secrets spilling out like a fallen beast’s entrails.

Descending the cracked stone steps, I braced myself against the cool dampness in the air below. Shadows danced across the broken walls, remnants of the fire’s wrath.

Raul’s lifeless body lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, his end written in the stillness of his form. The sight turned my stomach, but I forced myself to look, to take in every grim detail. There was no sign of Balthazar—he had escaped or been taken. The thought of him out there, free, sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

Anger and panic swelled within me, thick and suffocating like the smoke that still clung to the air.

“Everyone’s dead,” I whispered, my voice trembling with fury and heartbreak. My chest heaved, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I fucking hate my mother! She tried to kill me. She tried to kill my daughter.”

Images of Mathias and my mother slipping away like shadows at dawn flickered in my mind, haunting and unshakable.

“Where’s Osman?” Reyna asked, her voice brittle. “And Malik? Did he need to feed?”

Hope, fragile and tenuous, whispered that they might still be alive. I clung to it like a drowning man grasping for driftwood.

“Roman went to the caves...” I said, my words uncertain but clinging to the possibility. “I don’t know where Malik is, but you could be right. Let’s hope so.”

The weight of loss and the oppressive silence became too much to bear. Turning away from the tomb-like dungeon, I sought the solace of open air. Outside, the sky stretched cruelly clear, a soft expanse of pale gold and lavender, the last traces of dawn giving way to daylight. Their tranquil light mocked the devastation below, an indifferent beauty against the backdrop of ruin.

Reyna stood beside me, her face a mirror of the destruction surrounding us. Rosie’s small hand slipped into mine—a tiny, grounding presence in a world gone mad.

Then, through the haze of destruction, a flash of hope. Two figures emerged from the distance, running from the stables—Roman and Malik, alive. Relief surged through me, a burst of energy that drowned out the weight of despair. They had defied death, survived the inferno, and now sprinted toward us like salvation incarnate.

“Roman!” I shouted, my voice finding strength.

With Reyna and Rosie at my side, I ran toward them, toward the promise of reunion, toward the men who had refused to let destruction be the end of our story. Dust swirled around us as the distance between us closed. My heart thundered in my chest, my steps quickening with every beat.

Roman’s figure sharpened through the haze until, finally, his arms were around me, pulling me close in a desperate embrace.

“Oh, my darling, you’re safe,” he breathed, his voice trembling with relief.

His kisses fell like soft raindrops on my forehead; he found baby Luna’s peaceful face. Each word that followed wrapped around me like a lifeline in the aftermath of chaos.

“Both of you... I’ve been so worried,” he murmured between kisses, his voice a low rumble, thick with emotion.

“My mother started the fire,” I said, the words bitter and jagged on my tongue. “She locked me in my room. A woman saved me—someone I don’t even know.”

Roman’s hold tightened, a growl rising from deep within him. Fury radiated off him, burning as hot as the smoldering ruins around us.

Nearby, Malik cradled Rosie, pressing his lips to her small face and head in tender, protective gestures. Though both bore the scars of our ordeal, their reunion was a quiet, poignant reminder of what we had managed to save amidst so much loss.

Reyna stood apart, her silhouette lonely against the backdrop of destruction. Her voice was barely a whisper but carried the crushing weight of dread. “Have you seen Osman?”

Roman’s grip on me loosened as he turned to face her, his features shadowed with sorrow.

“I’m sorry, Reyna,” he said, his voice low and heavy with finality. “Osman didn’t make it. I tried to save him… but it was impossible.”

Reyna’s knees buckled beneath her, her face contorting in a silent scream as she collapsed. Malik darted toward her, his arms outstretched just in time to catch her crumbling form. The sound that finally escaped her was raw and guttural, the keening wail of a soul torn apart, reverberating through the quiet devastation around us.

The ash beneath my feet seemed to whisper of betrayal and loss with every step as I moved closer to her. Reyna’s silhouette was a broken shadow against the night, her pain an almost tangible weight pressing against the air.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” I murmured, resting a hand gently on her trembling shoulder. Her grief enveloped her like a suffocating shroud, an aura of despair that seemed to drain the very life from the air around us.

“It’s all my fault,” Reyna choked between heart-wrenching sobs. “I should never have brought him here.”

“Reyna, there’s nothing you could’ve done differently.” The words felt hollow even as I said them. “I’m sorry you have lost him.”

Her sorrow-filled eyes met mine briefly before looking away, the weight of her grief palpable.

“He was my best friend,” she whispered. Malik hovered a few steps back, his towering presence a silent well of strength. His fierce and unwavering gaze rested on Reyna with a protectiveness that mirrored the resolve hardening in Roman’s expression.

As if our collective grief summoned a shared purpose, Roman and Malik stepped closer, their postures radiating determination. Roman’s sharp and unyielding voice cut through the stillness like a blade.

“We will protect you, Reyna,” he vowed, his words brimming with fury. “And we will make Alina and Mathias pay for what they’ve done.”

Reyna shook her head, wiping away the remnants of her tears. A flicker of her old defiance returned, sparking in her eyes. “I should never have left Anatolia. I left my home to find the moon dagger… and look where it’s brought me.”

Malik’s low and measured voice broke through the tension. “And where are Alina, Mathias, and Balthazar?” he muttered darkly. “I can’t find them anywhere.”

“Fare thee well, and may we never meet again,” Reyna spat with a sudden venom that surprised us all. Her tears were gone, replaced by a blazing fire—not one of destruction but of unrelenting determination. “But they cannot hide from us forever.”

I held Luna closer, steadying my breath as the weight of the conversation pressed against my chest.

“Mathias admitted to me,” I began, my voice quivering with a mix of fear and resolve, “that he killed Armand and Isabelle in a fire. He destroyed Balthazar’s family. He’s a pure evil monster. Both he and my mother… they’ve dropped the facade. They’ve shown me their true faces.”

Roman clenched his jaw with barely contained rage.

“Olivia,” Malik said. “We must leave this place and travel to Anatolia. It’s unsafe here, especially since you now possess both blades. We need to move, and we need to move now.”

I nodded, absorbing the weight of his words, though sorrow still tethered me to the ruins of what we had lost. Reyna sat on the scorched earth, her spirit as fractured as the charred remains that surrounded us. I knelt beside her, rocking Luna gently in my arms.

“We must bury Osman,” Reyna murmured, her tears falling unchecked, a river of grief that seemed unending.

“Reyna,” Roman interjected softly, kneeling beside her, “he was crushed and burned in the fire. I don’t want you to see him like that. We can honor him without…”

“Without what?” Reyna’s voice cracked, eyes searching Roman’s face for answers none of us could provide. “Without seeing the remains?” she whispered, her pain raw and unfiltered.

Roman hesitated, choosing his words with care. “Without seeing him like that. We’ll hold a ceremony. For Osman. To honor him.”

Rosie, so small amidst the ruins, tugged at my skirt, her innocence a fragile light amid our devastation. She looked up at me, her wide, uncomprehending eyes brimming with questions.

“What do we do next?” she asked, her voice soft, her hope aching in its simplicity.

I glanced at Roman, his steady presence grounding me.

Taking a deep breath, I answered, “We will remember Osman as he lived, not as he died,” I whispered, though the words felt as much for myself as they did for Rosie. “Then we gather our strength, and we move forward. Together.”

As I shifted Luna in my arms, the air was thick with the lingering scent of char and sorrow. Roman’s gaze found mine, a storm of resolve darkening his eyes.

“When Osman was dying,” Roman began, his voice cutting through the oppressive stillness. “He told me we had to find a man named Pasha Hassan. Only he could help us decipher the ancient scriptures of the blades and bring their power back to life.”

My heart clenched at the mention of a new quest. Even amidst the ashes of our despair, a flicker of hope kindled—fragile but alive.

“How do we find him?” I asked, the practicality of the task already weighing heavily on my mind.

Her face streaked with ash and tears, Reyna slowly pushed herself to her feet. Though emotion thickened her voice, determination cut through it like steel. “He lives in Anatolia,” she said, her resolve unshaken despite the grief hanging over her like a shadow.

“I understand that,” I replied, my voice a soft murmur. “I have searched for people before, which can be difficult. And many times, they are dead or, if they are alive, they refuse to help.”

“No, Pasha Hassan is alive and is one of the last scholars who knows the blades’ history.” Reyna’s voice held a reverence that underscored the gravity of the man’s knowledge.

“Then that’s the next plan,” Roman declared, his voice firm and resolute. “We head to Anatolia.”

“It’s dangerous,” Reyna interjected, her gaze flickering with unease. The loss of Osman lingered in her eyes, but something else—something darker—shadowed her expression. “The most powerful Timehunter society resides there.”

“I don’t care,” Roman replied, his jaw set with unyielding resolve. His eyes moved between Luna and me, then to Malik and Rosie, his family, and his responsibility. “We’ll tell them we’re explorers. A family. If that doesn’t work, we’ll say we’re Timehunters from England.”

Luna stirred in my arms, her tiny body shifting as she let out a soft sigh, blissfully unaware of the dangers her existence had already defied. My heart clenched as I glanced at her peaceful face, the fragility of her life sharpening my focus. We needed to decipher the ancient script on the sun and moon daggers—for her, for all of us.

Roman’s plan settled over us like a beacon, lighting the way through the darkness surrounding us. Together, as a family, we would face the unknown.

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