CHAPTER THREE
OLIVIA
T he grandeur of Mathias’ estate felt like a cruel contradiction to the turmoil that churned within me. Gilded edges and velvet drapery mocked my confusion as I sat at the head of the long dining table, its surface gleaming under the flickering glow of countless candles nestled within crystal chandeliers. The chair beside me remained conspicuously occupied, the ghost of my mother’s absence over the years replaced by her tangible, but no less haunting, presence.
“Mom,” I started, my voice steadier than I felt, “I want answers. I went through fourteen years with you gone, presumed dead. What happened?”
Alina’s gaze met mine across the table. Lines of hardship etched into her face that I remembered smooth and laughing, but the same steel-blue eyes bore into me with an intensity I couldn’t escape.
“Olivia,” she began, her voice laced with a weariness that seemed to reach beyond the confines of this room, “everything I will tell you is dark and vicious. I just wanted to protect you.”
A chill crawled up my spine. Malik’s earlier outburst replayed in my mind, his anger ricocheting off these opulent walls and shattering the illusion of safety and family that Mathias’ estate had promised. Now, hearing my mother confirm the darkness that swirled around our lives, it felt as if the final pillar of my childhood had been kicked out from under me.
“Protect me from what?” The question was barely a whisper, fear knotting my stomach.
“From Balthazar,” she said with a bitter edge. “He killed me when you were a child. You and I were going to get ice cream. He stabbed me.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the edge of the fine china before her.
The memory surged forward unbidden. The scream that had torn from my throat on that day echoed in my ears; the sight of blood blossoming on her shirt seared into my vision forever.
“I saw it,” I gasped, the horror of that moment still vivid in my mind. “How did you recover?”
The silence between us held a weight of years, of buried secrets and truths too dangerous to speak aloud. My heart hammered against my ribcage, demanding the closure I had been denied for over a decade. Alina’s eyes never left mine, reflecting the pain we both carried.
“Recover,” she said softly, almost to herself, “is perhaps not the right word. There was, in fact, no killing. But I can understand why you thought that. Instead, I was whisked away by Timehunters. ”
She reached across the table, stopping short of touching my hand. Her fingers hovered there, trembling with the dread of her own story—a tale I knew would unravel the last threads of the life I thought I understood.
My heart pounded against my chest, and each beat resounded like the toll of a funeral bell as I waited for her to speak.
“Olivia,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I thought I was dead and wished I was because the pain, torture, and suffering I went through was unbearable. I woke up in a dark room, chained to the wall, beaten, and starved nearly to death. I was in the unforgiving grasp of Salvatore.”
I flinched at her words, feeling the cold, feeling the cold bite of the metal around her wrists, the sting of starvation that had gnawed at her once vibrant spirit.
“Salvatore?” I echoed, the unfamiliar name bitter on my tongue. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Few have,” she replied, her eyes distant as if peering into that shadowy abyss again. “He was watching me when we went to get ice cream. He’s very powerful, more powerful than anyone I have ever met. After Balthazar... after that monster stabbed me, Salvatore took me. He made me his prisoner.”
I struggled to draw a breath, to understand how this specter named Salvatore fit into the puzzle of our shattered lives.
“Prisoner?” I managed to ask, the word tasting of fear and confusion.
“Ruthless,” she confirmed with a nod, haunted. “He had been watching us, waiting for an opportunity. I pleaded with everything I had. I lied to him, told him I had no children—that you were the child of a friend, and I looked after you.”
The child of a friend … The phrase seemed so cold, devoid of the illusion of warmth I’d clutched to my chest as a child.
The air seemed to thin, and I gasped, trying to fill my lungs with something other than the dread that seeped from every word she spoke. How many nights had I cried myself to sleep, thinking my mother was dead? And all along, she had been enduring tortures unimaginable.
“Mom...” My voice trailed off, leaving a silence filled with the echoes of chains and the ghostly touch of unseen watchers.
“He’s been the Timehunter leader all this time,” she said, her gaze piercing mine with the ferocity of one who had stared down evil itself. “And the creator of Timebornes.”
“A Timehunter leader and a creator of Timebornes?” Confusion swirled within me like a vortex. “But Dad said that if a baby was born during a solar eclipse during that exact moment of darkness, it creates Timebornes. You’re telling me some man named Salvatore created us instead?”
Mom shook her head. “Salvatore claims he orchestrated the Eclipsarum Obscura, which means he created the power during the solar eclipse to create Timebornes and bring darkness within the dagger.”
“Created us?” I repeated, feeling the ground of reality shift beneath my feet. Every truth I had held onto was being peeled away, layer by layer, revealing a core of uncertainty and fear.
“Olivia,” she said, reaching across the void between us, her hand trembling like a leaf poised to fall. “There is so much you do not know hidden from you.”
And at that moment, amidst the glinting cutlery and the brooding portraits of ancestors long gone, I understood that the path to truth would be as treacherous as any darkened labyrinth, with a Minotaur called Salvatore lurking at its heart.
The chandelier above cast a somber glow over the dining table, its candlelight shifting with the tension in the air.
I leaned forward, my hands clasped together to still their shaking.
“How did you live? How did you survive? More importantly, how did you get away?” The questions escaped me, raw and desperate.
My mother’s eyes held a distant fire that had been kindled in the darkest places.
“Calm down, honey,” she said, though her voice quivered with suppressed anguish. “I survived. I... I served him as his whore all these years. It was survival, nothing more. Salvatore is a formidable figure, known in certain circles as a Shadow Lord. His mastery of dark magic is unparalleled, and he can manipulate darkness, travel through time with ease, and hunt down his enemies ruthlessly. He is considered by many to be the most fearsome and elusive monster they have ever encountered. After so many years of planning... I finally escaped him.”
A cold shiver ran through me. “How did you escape someone so powerful, so dark? That’s impossible!”
I couldn’t mask the disbelief in my voice.
“You don’t understand,” she replied, her gaze now steady, revealing a hint of the strategic mind that had outwitted a dark sorcerer. “Salvatore’s power has grown weak through time. His minions, who once executed his every whim, now took orders from afar, giving me a sliver of opportunity. So, I bided my time. And when the moment came, I ran to Lee for help.”
“To Lee?” The name felt strange on my lips, an echo from a childhood spent in play, not plots and schemes.
Lee stepped forward, his face a mixture of sorrow and resolve. He briefly took Mom’s hand. “Your mother turning up after all these years... It shocked me as much as it has you. I was aware of the Timehunters, always cautious, always hiding our abilities to ensure they would never find us. I never for a moment thought they would have captured her.”
He glanced at my mother, a silent understanding passing between them. “When I found her, broken yet defiant, the only way I could protect her was through Mathias.”
I sat back, the pieces of this twisted puzzle refusing to fit together—my mother, a prisoner turned fugitive, Lee, a childhood ally turned protector, and Mathias, an enigmatic figure whose role in this web of secrets was still unclear. The room spun around me, a carousel of truths and lies, and at its center stood Salvatore—the Shadow Lord who claimed dominion over time itself.
Golden light cascaded from above, scattering luminous patterns that danced across the dining room table. The tension was nearly tangible in the lavish space, wrapping around me like the cool Welsh mist outside the estate.
“How did you know Mathias?” I asked, my voice barely rising above a whisper, an anxious tremor betraying the semblance of calm I fought to maintain.
Lee’s face was shadowed, and his eyes flitted to the gilded cornices as if seeking guidance from the ornate decor.
“He came to me when you were young,” he said, his tone laced with a reluctance that seemed to age him further. “When Alina... When we thought she had died, Mathias showed up out of nowhere. He claimed he was Alina’s father and wanted to be part of your life. He watched you from afar, never intruding too close. We kept in touch, but nothing serious.”
“Did my papa know Mathias?” I pressed, my pulse quickening at the thought of my father being ensnared in this web of deceit.
“No, he didn’t.” Lee shook his head, his jaw tightening. “We had to protect your father from the truth. The risk was too great, and the less he knew, the safer he would be.”
He took a slow breath. “When Alina returned, we needed a solid plan to defeat Balthazar. First, we deal with that asshole. The rest shall follow.”
The revelations settled upon my shoulders like the heavy velvet drapes adorned the tall windows. I was enveloped by the lore of my lineage, a narrative I could never have imagined to be so intricately woven into the fabric of darkness we all now sought to unravel.
The tension in the room wound tighter as Mathias, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the chandelier above, leaned forward to address the growing list of questions that hung heavy in the air. Though laced with a certain weariness, his voice carried an undeniable authority that commanded attention.
“I contacted Malik,” he said, the name dropping like a stone into still water, “and together we secured Balthazar’s dagger. It was imperative to weaken him—to ensure your mother’s safety.”
A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of the weapon tied so closely to our family’s turmoil. Resolve etched into Mathias’ features, a manifestation of years spent plotting.
“Your mother is an expert in excavation,” he said. “She’s essential in helping us locate the moon dagger and ultimately defeating Balthazar.”
He tapped lightly on the walnut table, betraying a hint of impatience or perhaps anxiety. It wasn’t easy to discern.
“All I ever wanted,” he said, the words escaping him like a sigh, “was to be reunited with my family. To be reunited with you, Olivia, and Emily.”
His sentiment echoed through the lavish dining room, bouncing off the gilded frames of portraits that watched over us—silent guardians of a legacy fraught with secrets. The notion of family, once a simple concept, now seemed like a puzzle where pieces kept appearing and disappearing at will.
“My father doesn’t know that Alina is alive?” I asked, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. The thought of him being kept in the dark twisted something deep inside me.
Mathias regarded me with a look that seemed to carry the weight of untold stories. The shadows in his eyes betrayed the turmoil that must have been boiling beneath his composed exterior.
“Your father…” His voice caught in his throat, and he gazed at the floor momentarily before regaining his composure. With a deep breath, he shifted the topic to our current predicament, skillfully avoiding my question about my father’s involvement.
I clutched my hands together, striving to quiet the turmoil inside.
“Honey, but you must know Salvatore is hunting you,” Mom said with certainty.
“Now that Balthazar is locked up, I have someone else after me,” I murmured, trying to piece together the fragments of this twisted narrative. “Salvatore,” I repeated, the name tasting like poison on my tongue. The Shadow Lord. The one who claims to have created the Timebornes, who commands the Timehunters with an iron grip. A man who bends time to his will, shrouded in secrecy and fear. My pulse hammered. And now he was after me.
The question hung between us, tinged with disbelief and a creeping dread that had begun to take root.
Lee’s face softened, empathy etching lines into his weathered features. The silence stretched taut, a fragile thing ready to snap under the weight of unspoken truths and revelations yet to come.
Mathias’ eyes were like dark stones as he leaned back in his chair, a false veneer of ignorance playing across his face. “He’s after the sun and moon daggers mostly. But you have become his target since you possess one of the blades and are looking for the next blade.”
“What I want to know is why are all these people after these blades? Balthazar, Raul, his men, and now this Salvatore person?” My voice was steady, but my heart raced with fear and curiosity. “I heard these blades can make the world dark and vicious. I’ve heard they can destroy all darkness and cure it from killing daily.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to discern the truth. “But a part of me thinks that there is something more powerful about these blades that no one is telling us.”
Mathias met my gaze, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know much about these blades.”
I studied him. He said the words so smoothly, like a master of deceit, and I felt a coldness settle in my stomach.
A golden glow spilled across the room, offering no comfort against the chill seeping into my bones. My mother, Alina, fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth, her face etched with lines of hardship and secrets.
“Every time I had a lead on a blade, I found nothing,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “and I was tortured and beaten by Salvatore. Master manipulator. Liar. When I escaped, I was excited to see you all grown up. I watched you from afar.”
“Cut the bullshit,” I snapped, unable to contain the roiling emotions inside me. “You tried to kill me many times, according to the journal.”
The words felt heavy, accusatory, and raw.
Alina’s posture stiffened. “I was trying to protect you. I know how crazy it sounds. I want to defeat Balthazar and these Timehunters once and for all.”
Confusion clouded my mind as I tried to digest her words. Could she be telling the truth? My gut twisted with uncertainty, the journal’s accusations echoing in my skull.
“Mom…” I hesitated, my throat tight. I circled to the beginning of this conversation. So many things weren’t adding up. “I saw you get killed. I attended the funeral.”
Lee rose to his feet, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “She had a closed casket. Your father didn’t want you to be scarred for life. We wanted you to have a better memory.”
His voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes never leaving mine. “The Timehunters and Salvatore... they’re ruthless. They’ll stop at nothing to get their hands on the sun dagger, which you possess, and soon the moon dagger. They’ll hunt you down relentlessly.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “They’ll do anything to possess such powerful artifacts.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words, the burden of a destiny I hadn’t chosen. The opulent dining room suddenly felt like a cage, trapping me with revelations I couldn’t escape, truths I wasn’t sure I could face. None of this made sense. My mother had died. Lee had witnessed it, too. She’d had a funeral. Did they put pillows in the casket? Was it all some ginormous plot? Oh, my head hurt with all the missing pieces of the story.
The tension in the room was so thick I could hardly breathe.
Mathias pushed himself up from his chair and moved toward the grand fireplace, his eyes reflecting flames that seemed to be devouring more than just the aged logs within.
“I just want to protect my family,” he said again, vulnerability seeping through his stoic demeanor. “Balthazar is locked up. You don’t need to worry about him. Our next simple step is to find the moon dagger and destroy the evil.”
“Roman, Malik, and their team of workers will start digging in the caves to find it,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “We will eventually find the dagger, but right now, we must find Marcellious and get him home safely.”
Marcellious was key, yet he was out of reach.
“Like I said, we will find Marcellious, I promise you. But now it’s late, and you should get some rest. You’ve had a long day, and we’re all tired,” Mathias said, but there was an unmistakable command underneath the gentleness. His authority had always been absolute, but now, everything felt different.
Before I could respond, Alina moved toward me with arms open wide, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. But I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t step into the warmth she offered. Not yet.
“So much has happened,” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. “Emily gave birth. I found out that Mathias is my grandfather. And you...after all these years of believing you were dead, here you stand in front of me.”
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me—relief, confusion, anger. Above all, I felt a deep need for time to process everything.
“And now this Shadow Lord named Salvatore is after me. Marcellious is missing, and I don’t know where to start looking.” My words came out in a rush. “Please give me some space to figure things out.”
She froze, arms still suspended midair. Her eyes dimmed, and she slowly lowered her arms, nodding in silenced pain.
“I’m in a room full of monsters,” I muttered.
Turning away from my mother’s and Mathias’ gazes, I ascended the staircase, which creaked under the burden of my heavy steps. With each rise, echoes of the earlier revelations rang louder in my ears.
A part of me didn’t believe Mom’s story. How could one survive someone so powerful and ruthless as Salvatore? Points in the story don’t make sense, or I was too tired.
“Salvatore created the Timebornes?” The words slipped from my lips, a question meant for the shadows that danced along the halls. My mind couldn’t wrap around that Salvatore created Timebornes—it didn’t make sense.
I longed for a simpler life where Roman and I could hide away deep in the woods, safe from anyone who might come after us.
But my dreams of peace were shattered when I first traveled through time. A calm existence was no longer an option. Who was this Salvatore man? And when would I have to confront him face-to-face? The thought made my stomach turn, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that our paths would inevitably cross one day.