Chapter 52
FIFTY-TWO
EMMA
I woke up to a strange sound.
No, not a sound, an unsettling feeling that clawed at the edges of my consciousness.
My mind was thick with the remnants of sleep, foggy and disoriented as I struggled to grasp where I was, or what had shattered the silence.
My focus drifted to the window, the familiar frame of my own room barely visible in the pale moonlight.
Outside, the night was a deep, suffocating black, swallowing every detail whole.
I summoned my Nexus with a swift motion, its faint glow illuminating the room as the time blinked coldly back at me: Eleven p.m.
I rolled onto my side, clutching the pillow and dragging it over my face, desperate to smother the unease, to coax sleep back into my restless body. Which didn’t work.
For some unknown reason, my body felt wrung out, hollowed from the inside, as though every ounce of strength had been stripped away, and a prickle of unease crawled over my skin.
It started subtle. A shift in the air, the faint drop in temperature that made the hairs on my arms rise. A slow chill licked down my spine. My fingers curled into the sheets as the shadows at the edge of the room deepened unnaturally, twisting into darker shapes that didn’t belong.
Out of nowhere, my Nexus flared, a spark of blue energy flickering above my nightstand, before a figure stepped into the frame.
I jumped out of bed and shot out my Skindo into my hand with a sharp thud, the weapon’s metal singing in the stillness. My pulse hammered painfully against my ribs, knees bending instinctively, feet planting, body coiled and ready to strike.
A Nexus didn’t work like this. You had to open yourself willingly to the connection. You had to accept it, consciously deciding to let someone in.
So how the hell had this one managed to slip through without my permission?
“Who the hell are you?” I hissed, the question edged with steel as I forced it through the shock, trying to mask the sudden jolt of surprise at someone forcibly breaching my connection.
My grip tightened on the Skindo, fingers twitching with tension as I angled the weapon higher, ready for whatever came next.
The High Chief’s voice echoed smoothly through the room, calm but carrying an unmistakable edge of authority. “Should I feel insulted you don’t recognize me solely from my frame, Ms. Thompson?”
I blanched, a cold shiver running down my spine despite myself. My vision narrowed, muscles coiling tighter as I shifted the Skindo with a barely controlled twitch. “How did you manage to nex me without me accepting you?”
“Gods, Ms. Thompson. That is not your biggest worry tonight.” His tone carried an unsettling certainty.
I gritted my teeth so hard they ached. “Want to enlighten me what is?”
There was a pause, not long, before he replied smoothly, “Well, that depends. We’ve heard some rumors we’d like to share with you. Your reaction to them—whether to confirm or deny—will dictate whether you should be worried.”
My heart hammered in my chest, but I summoned my inner Caden and forced my expression into as neutral a mask as I could manage. “Don’t leave me in suspense, Mister High Chief. What exactly have you heard?”
He gave a small, tight smile, one that didn’t reach the rest of his face. “Yes, let’s dispense with the formalities. Tell me, Ms. Thompson, is it true that you are involved in a romantic relationship with Mister Caden Colt?”
Okay, Emma. Stay calm. This was part of the plan.
I nodded once. “You heard correctly.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, probing. “Surely this does not mean you are backing out of your deal with your Chiefs. I trust we did not misunderstand your intentions regarding the bond with James Walker?”
I straightened my spine. “I regret to inform you this is indeed the case. Mister Walker and I will no longer be forming the True Bond. However,” I added, leaning in slightly, “I have come into information I believe will soften the impact of this decision.”
The High Chief stiffened, his posture rigid as he processed my words.
“I have learned, since our last interaction, that Caden Colt will be the father of the Krait. In fact, I am certain he and I will be attempting to conceive in the near future, which only strengthens this belief. The Krait will exist.”
The High Chief’s countenance hardened. “Ms. Thompson. Surely you are not that foolish. You cannot believe that backing out of a deal with us would come without any repercussions.”
I held his stare evenly. “Is that a threat?”
“Not...yet.” He paused, then leaned forward slightly. “Are you willing to reconsider your position? Will you honor your deal with us, regardless of what you think you might’ve found out?”
I straightened my spine in clear defiance. “James Walker is not the father of any future kid I might have. Therefore, I will not bond him.”
A loud exhale of disappointment escaped the man trying to decide my life. “Well, there are one or two ways we can handle this. The first: the carrot.”
“The carrot?” I echoed.
“Yes, Ms. Thompson. Since we last met, we’ve also come across some rather interesting new intelligence. And I’m willing to share it with you...if you reconsider.”
I couldn’t help but mirror his earlier comment. “Surely you’re not that foolish?”
His lips curled into a thin, grim smile. “Not even if we were to share the name of the person who ordered your initial arrest and gave the all-clear to kill your parents?”
The words hit me like a thunderclap. I froze, heart pounding, and the breath caught in my throat before I even realized it had stopped.
The man responsible for my parents’ death…
The Chief watched me closely, as if savoring the shift in my posture. “You bond with Mister Walker right now, and we’ll give you the name. And for good measure, we’ll throw in his current location.”
My heart slammed against my ribs, but I forced myself to keep my face still, muscles tightening as I fought to maintain control.
Whoever he was—the one who’d signed my name onto an execution list and called it justice—the fucking Chiefs knew.
And now they were holding him over my head like a cruel bargaining chip.
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making the movement difficult. “You’re trying to bribe me.”
The Chief leaned back slightly, fingers steepled. “We’re offering you clarity,” he said. “Closure. A path forward. But be advised, Miss Thompson…this is the only carrot. Should you refuse, regrettably we will be forced to bring out the stick.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, pretending to be enticed. “To be clear, in order for me to get this intel from you…”
“You call both men into your room at once. While we remain connected, you will end your relationship with mister Colt and bond with mister Walker instead.”
I held myself steady despite the tension pulling at my chest. “Even though I have just informed you the Krait will only come into existence if I stay with Caden?”
Impatience flickered across the High Chiefs’s face, before he spoke. “I don’t care, Ms. Thompson. You made a deal with us. You will honor it.”
He inhaled sharply, leaning forward with a finality I felt through our connection. “Last chance, Ms. Thompson. What will it be? The carrot or the stick?”
I didn’t need to think about it, the decision was clear despite the weight of it. “I fear I must decline your offer.”
The High Chief went deathly still.
For a moment—one fragile heartbeat—there was absolute silence. Not the quiet of night, not the hush of paused breath. Something deeper. Like the world itself exhaled and waited to see which way the blade would fall.
Then he smiled.
Not warm. Not amused. A cruel curl of the lips that made my stomach pitch.
“So be it,” he murmured, each syllable soft enough to bruise. “You’ve chosen the stick, Ms. Thompson.”
A pressure thrummed against my Nexus, subtle at first, then growing sharp enough to sting. My grip on the Skindo tightened instinctively, my body bracing against an invisible force.
“Understand something before we show you. We extended you courtesy. We extended generosity. You have now declined both and have left us with no other option.”
The air around him distorted, his frame flickering with a surge of raw power that crawled like static down my arms.
“Consequences,” he continued, “are not a threat. They are an inevitability.”
I held my ground as the Nexus flared with a violent static pulse, the High Chief’s polished image warping and dissolving into a dim, flickering live feed.
A bare room. Featureless walls. One chair.
And strapped into it: Saoirse.
Beaten. Bloodied. And barely conscious.
My blood fucking froze.
She looked destroyed. A deep gash splitting her temple open, skin peeled back enough to show the white glint of bone beneath.
Both eyelids were swollen so brutally they bulged, purple and black, barely slitting open over bloodshot whites.
Thick, dark blood had dried in jagged streaks down the side of her neck, mixed with fresh, wet drips that kept sliding along her collarbone and soaking into her shirt.
Her lip was split wide, one tooth knocked loose and hanging at an angle, and her breaths came fast and thin, hitching around a wheeze that sounded wrong, like something inside her chest was cracked.
“Don’t,” I breathed. “Don’t you fucking dare—”
“Regretfully,” the Chief cut in, emotionlessly, “your refusal to cooperate forces our hand. You will now call in mister Colt and mister Walker. You will end your relationship with one, and bond with the other. You will do as we asked. If you refuse, you will end your friend’s life.”
“I don’t believe you,” I whispered. “You wouldn’t risk it. You wouldn’t risk an international rift between yourselves and Crown, Cyclos and Slava just for this. Not now.”