CHAPTER FOUR
ROMAN
M alik, Osman, and I trudged down the hill toward the yawning mouth of the cave, our way lit only by the meager glow of a crescent moon. The darkness surrounded us, thick with the night’s secrets and untold threats lurking just beyond our sight. Malik breathed heavily beside me, each exhale a gust of silent fury. Osman walked ahead, his figure a shadow against the lesser dark.
“Malik,” I said, my voice low, “we need to keep level heads.”
He looked at me, his eyes glinting with the same ferocity that had ignited at Mathias’ estate.
“Easy for you to say,” he spat, not breaking stride.
I clenched my jaw, feeling the weight of my frustration. Alina’s presence at Mathias’ place was a thorn in my side, sharp and unwelcome. Raul’s words from the tavern echoed in my head, painting her in hues darker than the night around us. It didn’t sit right with me how she lingered like a specter over everything we did—everything Malik had suffered.
“Mathias be damned,” I muttered. “He thinks he made you powerful? Gave you Rosie?”
The thought was laughable, a pitiful attempt by a man bloated on self-importance. I knew Malik’s strength; it was his own, hard-earned and honed through trials that would have broken lesser men.
“Rosie was never his to give,” I said, louder this time, my words slicing through the tension. “And power isn’t handed to you by the likes of him. It’s taken, fought for.”
I hoped my conviction would seep into Malik and bring him peace.
Malik grunted, a noncommittal noise, but the set of his shoulders eased ever so slightly. We continued our descent in silence, the only sounds those of our footsteps and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures hidden in the wilderness.
As much as I wanted to believe Malik and I were united, Alina’s lurking shadow divided us, a constant reminder of past deceptions and the pain they wrought. I couldn’t shake the discomfort of having her near, of knowing what Raul had insinuated about her true nature. Her presence filled me with unease, a nagging feeling I couldn’t shake.
Then, there was the revelation of their shared child. Despite Raul’s claim that the child had died due to his experiments, a part of me couldn’t help but question the truth. Was he lying? Or perhaps the child truly was gone. Alina seemed to hold so many secrets close to her chest, leaving me to wonder how much more there was to uncover. Her connection to Olivia, the woman I’d come to love deeply, only twisted the knife further.
Each step closer to the cave was further from the mess of lies and manipulations we left behind. But even in the sanctuary of darkness, there was no escaping the web that entangled us all.
I gripped Malik’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “We can figure this all out.”
He jerked away from my touch, his eyes wild in the moonlight. “Why is it that people I trusted let me down?” His voice was barely a whisper but carried the weight of deep hurt and anguish.
I understood all too well—the world felt like a chessboard, and we were pawns amidst the kings and queens of deceit.
“Trust is a luxury we can’t afford right now,” I replied.
With my brother gone, the path ahead was murky, our plans adrift in a sea of chaos.
“Let’s focus on what we can control,” I said, more to convince myself than to reassure Malik.
Our steps grew heavier as we approached the cave, its gaping maw looming like an abyss, ready to swallow us whole. Its immensity struck me silent; this was no mere hole in the earth—it was a cathedral of shadows and secrets.
“We’re going to dig until we find the moon dagger,” I said, my resolve hardening with each syllable. The dagger was the key to understanding, power, and securing a future I could no longer envisage clearly.
Osman nodded, his silhouette etched against the darkness. “It’s our goal.”
“Then let’s find it,” I said, steeling myself. Whatever lay within the cavernous depths, it couldn’t be worse than the dread that had taken root in my soul.
We paused to retrieve supplies covered with a tarp outside the caverns. Once we stepped through the stone opening, I held my lantern high. The interior was vast, stretching to infinity. We began our search, staying close yet breaking off to explore different threads.
The air inside the cave was cool and brackish, like the breath of a slumbering beast.
I wiped the sweat from my brow, my hands coated in the fine dust that carpeted the cavern floor. We’d been searching for hours, our fingertips brushing against the indifferent stone, hoping for a sign of the elusive dagger.
“Roman,” Osman’s voice cut through the silence. “There is something you must be aware of. Once you locate the Moon dagger, it will not work immediately. The two blades have been separated for far too long.”
The gravity of his words hung heavy in the air, sending shivers down my spine as I contemplated the consequences of reuniting the ancient daggers.
My fingers stilled on the cold rock as I turned to face him. The flickering light of our torches cast dancing shadows on his earnest face.
“A very specific scripture is used to awaken it, different than Timeborne blades,” he continued. “The scripture to make them work is a dead language. Only the true owner can activate it. Ancient scriptures of time reveal specific instructions.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my mind reeling. “How do you know so much? How do you know they won’t activate?”
My lantern cast long shadows across his face.
Osman’s uneasy movements stirred the dirt beneath his feet. His eyes evaded mine as he gazed at the scattered debris on the ground.
“There are these ancient scrolls,” he said, his voice low and wary. “They hold the key to activating the blades properly. My father and a group of men dedicated their lives to studying them, even before I was born. But many of them have since passed. If they were to fall into the wrong hands, it could spell disaster for us all.”
His statement hung between us, reinforcing what we already knew—We needed to find the dagger before anyone else did.
“Then we must ensure they end up in the right hands,” I said with newfound resolve. The search wasn’t just for power but to ensure the daggers didn’t get into the wrong hands. And I would see it through, for Malik, for myself, and for the ghosts that lingered in the shadows of our purpose.
“How did something so powerful come to be?” My question echoed off the jagged walls.
“These blades hold an extraordinary tale,” Osman said, “one that I learned when I was just a boy.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes distant as if lost in memories.
“It is believed that these blades were created during the first solar eclipse in the Ancient Uragit,” he said. “Legends speak of how the eclipse itself brought forth their existence but also brought about the destruction of Uragit. A new city or realm was formed in its place—Solaris.”
A faint glimmer of awe slid through his voice at the mention of this mythical city.
“But there are darker tales surrounding these blades as well,” he said. “Some believe that a thirst for power consumed those who wielded them and that their lust for control led to the downfall of Uragit. And yet, despite all the stories and legends, one thing remains certain—something significant happened during that solar eclipse.”
His expression darkened. “When my father and other scholars from Anatolia began to delve into the mysteries of Solaris, they were met with fierce resistance from the Timehunters. The Timehunters eradicated every last one of them, not allowing them to explore or understand why Solaris came to be. It was as if the Timehunters were guarding a powerful secret.”
A note of bitterness crept into his voice.
“My father, however, discovered something groundbreaking about Solaris,” Osman said. “But before he could share it with anyone, he was killed by the very people who claimed to protect our world—again, the Timehunters.”
His fists tightened, the pain of his loss raw in his expression.
“After my father’s death, I was left an orphan, forced to fend for myself on the streets. But then Reyna and her father showed me kindness, taking me in and caring for me. As we grew up together, I couldn’t help but fall deeply in love with her. Her father blessed us to marry, and Reyna became my everything—a strong and fierce woman who completed me. But now she has been taken from me, and if I don’t find her soon and bring her back to Anatolia, her father will surely seek my life.”
His voice trembled with emotion as he spoke of his beloved Reyna, his eyes clouded with pain and determination.
The blades were not just relics; they bore the scars of history, of lives destroyed by greed and the unquenchable thirst for power.
“I can only imagine,” I said, clapping a hand on Osman’s shoulder. The rough fabric of his tunic was damp with the night’s dew. “I promise we will look for her. Don’t lose hope. Hope is the last thing to die.”
Exhaustion gnawed at my muscles, an unwelcome companion whispering defeat. I turned back to face Osman and Malik. Their faces bore the same weariness that burdened my soul.
“We should regroup,” I said, my voice barely carrying over the hush that enveloped us, “and return with a larger crew. We need more hands, more eyes... This is bigger than we anticipated. With more men here, the faster we can find the blade.”
The agreement was wordless. Together, we retraced our path up the hill, the cave’s mouth disappearing from sight but never from our minds. Home beckoned with the promise of respite, however fleeting, from the daunting task ahead.
Our ascent toward the estate was quiet. Each of us was lost in thought as we navigated the uneven terrain. The night held a chill that seeped into my bones, and overhead, the stars were obscured by a blanket of clouds, ominous and foreboding.
Malik’s silhouette was drawn tight against the dark, like a bowstring pulled to its limit. “Balthazar is in the dungeon, yet I’m more worried by those not imprisoned.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the gaping mouth of the caverns, their deep recesses shrouded in darkness like the maw of some colossal beast. There was no disagreeing with him. We were out of our depth, and remembering Balthazar’s imprisonment only added weight to our failure.
I placed a hand on Malik’s shoulder, trying to exude a calm I didn’t quite possess. “We’ll figure this out,” I reassured him. He clenched his fists and glared at me, his eyes blazing with anger like sparks from flint. “You don’t know what it’s like to be used, Roman,” he spat out through gritted teeth. “I was kept in the dark. Mathias told me he saved me and gave me Rosie. It’s not right. It’s all lies.”
His pain was a raw wound exposed to the biting air.
“Don’t worry, I’m here with you. Don’t panic,” I said, though the hollowness of my promises rang in my ears. We were all adrift, clutching at straws in hopes of finding solid ground.
We trudged back in silence, the estate coming into view through the mist. Its windows were dark, save for a few that spilled warm light onto the dewy grass. Once we crossed the threshold, Alina awaited us there, her presence an unwanted stain on the night.
“Did you find the blade?” she asked as we trudged into the drawing room, our bodies heavy with fatigue.
Malik’s face contorted with barely restrained ire. “I think it’s best if you stay out of our fucking way.”
The shadows played across Alina’s features as she stepped closer, oblivious or indifferent to his turmoil. “What’s wrong, Malik? We used to be friends. We did so many fun things together.”
Osman’s eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes darted back and forth between Alina and Malik. His lips were pursed, and his body was tense.
“Don’t come near me,” Malik growled, his voice a low rumble of thunder. “I am not the same man I used to be.”
He stormed past her, leaving the room in his wake, while Alina stood there, a statue of feigned innocence.
Alina’s voice quivered with a blend of confusion and hurt. Her gaze lingered on Malik’s back, disappearing into the shadows.
“I don’t know why he’s so angry with me,” she said. “He’s treating me like I’m the monster.”
I sighed, the weight of the day’s trials pressing down my shoulders.
“It’s been a long day for all of us,” I said, keeping my tone even. “We are all going through a lot.”
The words felt empty, but civility was a cloak I had learned to drape over my true feelings when necessary.
“Your tenderness is a balm, Roman,” Alina cooed, reaching out to caress my cheek, her touch light but unwelcome. “My daughter’s so lucky to have such a strong man.”
She pressed her body to mine, and I recoiled.
“Take your hand off of me,” I said firmly.
Her eyes widened in shock, but I couldn’t find it within myself to care. Raul Costa’s words reverberated through my mind, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth as I recalled the tragic fate of her child, Angelo. The innocent boy, betrayed by the very man meant to protect him, his life stolen by poison—administered by his own father, Raul, who did not even deny the crime .
“I’m sure Costa would love to hear you’re back.”
“Raul?” Her voice cracked, a mix of yearning and surprise painting her features. “It’s been ages.”
“Yes, I saw him not too long ago.” I narrowed my eyes. “He had much to say about you.”
Before she could come up with a retort, I added, “Good night, Alina. And keep your fucking hands off me.”
I picked up the hand that had caressed my cheek and flung it away.
With that dismissal hanging between us, I turned on my heel and strode away, leaving her in the dimly lit corridor. Her shock became unreadable as the distance grew between us.
The door to Olivia’s and my room creaked open, its hinges protesting the late hour as much as my weary bones. Before I could step fully inside, Olivia burst from the shadows, throwing her arms around me with a force that nearly drove the remaining breath from my lungs. As our lips met in a fervent kiss, the sensation felt like an explosion of emotions, a symphony of relief and unspoken fears. The softness of her lips against mine, the way they moved in perfect harmony, ignited a fire within me. Our bodies pressed together as much as possible, given her growing belly. I could feel her warmth radiating through her clothes, adding to our embrace’s intensity. We sought comfort and reassurance in each other’s warmth, our hearts beating.
Our passionate exchange was a language without words, but the intensity of our embrace spoke volumes. At that moment, nothing else existed but us, lost in a sea of emotions and passion.
“My flaming fire,” I murmured against her hair, the intoxicating aroma of lavender wrapped around me, a soothing spell I never wanted to break. I longed to stay cocooned in her embrace, enveloped by her warmth and the lingering essence of vanilla.
But as much as I craved her touch, the pressing matter demanded my attention.
“How did your conversation with your mother go?” I asked, my stomach twisting with unease at the thought of Alina’s overbearing presence.
She trembled in my embrace; the quiver of uncertainty didn’t need words to express itself. Her eyes, wide and glimmering in the dim light, held stories of turmoil she had yet to say.
“Roman.” Her voice quavered as she spoke. “I don’t know what to do. I want to believe my mother’s story, but parts of it don’t add up. The words of Mathias and Lee echo in my mind, conflicting with her version of events. I’m struggling to trust and understand.”
She leaned into my touch, a silent plea for reassurance that I ached to provide.
“I don’t know who to trust. With Mathias telling me who he is, and Balthazar captured, I don’t know.” Her words tumbled out like stones in an avalanche. “Then my mother tells me that she was imprisoned by a powerful man named Salvatore, that he is some Shadow Lord, and that he is after me. Everything is jumbled and confusing, and I feel so scared and unsafe.”
I pulled her close, enveloping her in my arms. “If you feel unsafe, I will take you somewhere else where you feel protected,” I said, a vow etched in the very marrow of my bones. “Anywhere you need to be, we’ll go together.”
Her eyes searched mine, seeking the truth behind my promise. In them, I saw the reflection of our shared resolve, fragile but unbroken.
Olivia’s fingers clung to mine with a fervor that spoke volumes, her grasp seeking the anchor of my presence. The room, awash in the pale moonlight filtering through the window, felt too vast, as if it could swallow us whole with its shadows and secrets. She sat on the edge of the bed, the tension in her shoulders betraying her unease.
“When you were gone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “you were away for over a month. What took so long?”
The weight of untold stories pressed against my chest.
“Everything went well at first,” I said. “We met Osman, who we brought back with us. Raul took away his betrothed. But then... Balthazar and Raul showed up.” I hesitated. My next words would shake the already fragile ground beneath us. “Raul... he told us his life story—about how he met and loved your mother. And that they had a child together.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening in disbelief as if she had just seen a ghost.
“What? That’s impossible,” she stammered, her voice trembling with shock and confusion. “In her journal, she never mentioned having a child with Raul. Instead, she wrote of being chained and tortured by him.”
Olivia’s voice cracked, the image she held of her mother splintering before us.
“Raul painted a different picture,” I said, trying to ease the blow. “He spoke of how he lost his son, and Alina... she gave him another son. Then he condemned his own son to an agonizing death, using him as a test subject for his cruel experiment.
Olivia shook her head, her breaths ragged and quick as she tried to process the information.
“That’s insane,” she said, her voice trembling. “In my mother’s journal, she never mentioned anything like this. She only wrote about the horrors of being held captive by Raul, his cruel experiments on her, and her daring escape after a year. Someone must be lying. Is it Raul? My mother?”
I touched her arm, feeling the tremble beneath her skin. Truth seemed as elusive as the shifting shadows of the flickering candle on the nightstand.
The weight of the revelations pressed heavily upon us, and the room felt far too small for the enormity of our troubles.
“There is much to unravel,” I said, “but I want to get Marcellious back and find the dagger.”
She grasped my hand, her grip both delicate and desperate.
I smiled. “And I will always keep you safe and protect you. I love you so much, Olivia, and together we will conquer this.”
Together, we extinguished the candle’s flame, its light flickering and dancing before finally surrendering to the darkness of the night. I pulled Olivia close, wrapping my arms around her in a protective embrace. The cool air of the room enveloped us, but warmth radiated from our entwined bodies as we held each other tightly. The silence of the estate mocked us, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within.
With Olivia’s steady breathing beside me, I closed my eyes, willing sleep to take me. But rest proved elusive; my mind was a battlefield, replaying every word, every lie, every half-truth that had been uncovered. The house, once a sanctuary, now felt like a lair where monsters roamed with human faces, their intentions as obscured as the shadows that danced across the walls.
As I finally drifted into a restless slumber, the thought haunted me—the notion that what lurked beneath the surface of those around us could be more terrifying than any creature of the night.