Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
EMMA
James’s head jerked up, his expression hardening as he sprang to his feet, instantly positioning himself in front of me. No one could match his reaction time. I blinked, trying to process what was happening, my heart slamming in my chest as all the air left the room.
“James, calm down,” Stephen commanded, clearly attempting to defuse the situation.
“Logan fucking Stark,” James growled, the name uttered like a curse. “As in the soon-to-be-dead fucker who sedated and tortured my girlfriend. Yeah, I’m not calming down for shit.”
“It’s Caden, actually. Caden Colt,” Logan—Caden—replied, his voice dark velvet, smooth and low, in contrast with his tone of total boredom. My mind struggled to make sense of the sudden shift, the ground beneath me feeling less solid by the second.
He has a British accent?
“James,” Stephen murmured softly, trying to break through the rage, consuming him.
“He’s a Radical,” James spat, his focus locked on Caden. My own gaze followed, but my body refused to respond. My brain was fogged, and in the chaos of fight, flight, or freeze, I was firmly trapped in the latter.
Caden snorted, the embodiment mocking indifference. “Right, I forgot about that flattering label.”
“Those are some disappointing last words,” James snarled, before his Skindo appeared in his hand, ready to strike down the man who had haunted my nightmares.
The man I couldn’t help but stare at.
The last time I’d seen him, his features had been hidden behind violence and chaos.
Now, with his true name hanging in the air, I took in his appearance with fresh eyes.
The sharp angles of his jaw, the olive tone of his skin, and his slightly disheveled black hair were painfully familiar, as was the menacing scar tracing the side of his neck.
But his eyes caught me off guard, lighter somehow.
Last time, they’d reminded me of polished obsidian, almost black and impenetrable, like staring into a void of darkness and danger.
Now, though, they gleamed with a different hue—more like the warm, deep brown of a Macallan 30-year Sherry Oak, smooth yet with a burn that lingered beneath the surface.
Terrifying and magnetic, he was still every bit the danger I remembered—yet somehow, this version felt even more intense. My pulse quickened, but I forced myself to meet his stare, refusing to back down.
James straightened his arm, the tip of his Skindo barely piercing Caden’s neck, just enough to draw a bead of blood. Caden didn’t even flinch and stayed annoyingly stoic.
“James, we’ll explain everything,” Stephen said, sounding strained as his patience wore thin. “Put down the Skindo and listen to us before you do something rash.”
What the hell was happening here? I really was trying to make sense of the situation, but nothing was adding up.
I tugged at James’s sleeve, trying to ground him, then gave him our look—a silent signal we’d perfected over time.
He gave me a single nod back, then reluctantly sat down beside me, though his posture was still tense, ready to spring.
Caden took his seat next to Stephen, a smirk playing on his lips.
“One of you better start talking,” James demanded, his arm hovering protectively near mine.
I caught the older man’s gaze, and forced out the words I was desperate for him to understand.
“He tortured me.” My hands were shaking, rage burning right beneath my skin.
“He’s the one who sedated me. Who’s responsible for the scars on my arm!
” The words came faster now, spilling out before I could stop them, heavy with the pain I’d buried for too long.
How could he sit there and act like this was normal? Like it didn’t matter?
Caden, completely unbothered by my accusations, simply shrugged, his attitude a portrait of indifference. “And for ordering your first abduction, if we’re going to get technical,” he added casually, detached even, as if reciting a recipe for apple-pie.
James’s fists were clenched so tightly I could see the whites of his knuckles. It clearly took everything in him not to lunge at Caden, and I knew he was holding on by the thinnest thread.
“Emma,” Stephen began hesitantly, his expression soft, almost pleading. “Caden works for me.”
“That might be, but I am telling you I am one hundred percent sure he’s the one?”
“No!”
James gasped, cutting me off, his eyes wide with a dawning realization that made my stomach twist with dread.
“This can’t be,” he whispered, barely able to get the words out.
“What?” I breathed, heart pounding as the dread took hold.
James turned to Stephen, his face drained of color. “You?” The word was almost swallowed by the shock, but the accusation was clear. “You’re the one… The ‘he’ who ordered the abductions?”
“What?” I almost laughed, disbelief washing over me. But when I looked at the silver haired man, the guilt etched on his face shattered any hope this was some kind of misunderstanding.
James trembled with fury. “You had her bleed out? You ordered her to be sedated? You had him…” He pointed at Caden, his finger shaking with rage. “Torture her? Experiment on her?”
The room pulsed with the intensity of James’s wrath. He sprang to his feet, his entire body radiating a deadly intent, ready to kill both of them right then and there. His cerulean haze started encircling him, wild like a tornado, ready for total destruction.
I sat there, frozen in shock.
James’s stare locked onto Stephen’s, and his voice, still trembling with emotion, broke through the silence.
“You hurt her. You hurt her. You hurt…her.” Each word was laced with disbelief, his entire body shaking with the knowledge of betrayal. Whatever pain I was going through, was nothing compared to the agony radiating from James.
I reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly. Whatever was going on, we were in this together.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” For the first time ever, I saw tears in James’s eyes. The rage he’d been holding back was slowly starting to pour out, raw and unfiltered, and my heart nearly broke seeing him so distressed.
Caden’s voice was calm, almost cruel in its clarity. “Can’t you guess, James? You’re sitting next to a woman with untraceable translation.”
“That’s what this is all about? My translation?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay cold. “Why? Are you Radicals?”
The question hung between us, heavy and unforgiving. I was terrified of the answer—but I needed to hear it.
“We’re not, Emma. I promise,” Stephen replied softly, but I wasn’t inclined to take his word at face value.
“Then what are you?”
He scratched his neck before answering. “We’re Resistants. We don’t believe the Great Exposure should happen, but all we’ve done is counteract the global consensus. We’ve never threatened innocent lives.” His eyes searched mine, as if trying to reassure me of his noble intentions.
“Except for hers,” James hissed, his eyes blazing with fury.
Caden's lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Whatever you believe, her life was never in danger.”
I snorted, unable to contain the bitterness bubbling up. “I think you’ve misplaced a few memories.”
Caden’s eyes narrowed, a dark glint flashing in them. “You might not want to take that tone with me.”
Wrong fucking thing to say.
In an instant, James and I both shot out our Skindo, the movement so in sync it was like we were one—mirroring each other like a magical Bonnie and Clyde.
Caden’s smirk widened, not an ounce of fear in him.
“I guess I should be honored. One little threat from me and you both jump up like that.” He then turned to me, ignoring James entirely.
His pitch-black haze shot out so quick I almost missed it, then wrapped itself around my Skindo tattoo, caressing it like a fucking lover.
The sickening intimacy of it sent more than a few shivers down my spine.
"How’s your arm?" His presence was deceptively soft, almost disarmingly charming—like velvet wrapped around a blade.
His words hadn’t even faded, and my body was already in motion.
I lunged for him, Skindo flashing as I moved, and I roared like a lioness pouncing on its prey.
But before I could reach him, a surge of silver light shot between us, slamming into my chest like an unyielding force.
The impact sent me stumbling back, my feet sliding against the ground as the energy locked me in place.
Beside me, James had already started forward, his whole demeanor burning with intent—but Stephen’s translation caught him, wrapping around his arms and torso, holding him firm.
“Enough,” he shouted, now radiating real authority. The silver haze shimmered, its hold unyielding but eerily effortless, as if he could keep us frozen like this all day.
I gritted my teeth and fought against the invisible grip tightening around me. Caden barely moved, watching us with his infuriating composure, like he’d expected this reaction all along.
“Fucking Radical,” I spat, my skin crawling as I sat back down, sheathing my Skindo.
James followed suit, though his focus never shifted away from Caden.
“I already told you back at Coastal—we’re not Radicals,” Caden—Logan, whoever the hell he really was—shrugged casually, like this was any another conversation. “Those assholes stole an Amplifier and attacked my Collective with it. Same as they did yours. Believe me, we are not Radicals.”
I tried to keep my cool, and focus on understanding what was going on but seeing him made me lose it. The guy responsible for my scars, my nightmares. Fuck, I wanted to kill him!
“Emma, calm down. We’ll tell you everything, but you need to get a handle on your emotions.”
Does anyone remember the genius who first thought it was a good idea to tell an already furious woman to calm down? No? Probably because they didn’t live to talk about it.
I nearly strangled Stephen.
My eyes found Caden’s, and he fucking smiled at me.
“Do you have a death wish?” I hissed, and of course, his damn smile only widened.