Chapter 45
Alina
When I returned to the States, Olivia was ten—a little girl teetering on the edge of womanhood, eyes too wise for her age. She looked at me the moment I stepped through the door, and everything stopped.
Her gaze burned through me, not with innocence, but with something more unsettling—recognition.
She didn’t just see me. She read me. Piece by piece, layer by layer, she dismantled the woman who stood before her.
And for a terrifying heartbeat, I thought she saw it all—the blood on my hands, the betrayal in my heart.
Then she blinked, and the child returned.
“Mom!” she cried, running to me with open arms.
I hesitated. Was Zara right? Was the Scholar? Would Olivia be my undoing?
No. Not yet. I forced the thoughts away and knelt, arms outstretched.
She threw herself into my embrace, clutching my legs like a lifeline. “I missed you, Mom!”
My throat tightened. I couldn’t speak.
Then the door creaked again.
Jack entered the room, and the joy vanished like smoke. He froze in the doorway, eyes locking on mine—and in that instant, his entire body went rigid. The color drained from his face.
“Mom’s home,” Olivia said brightly, then skipped away, leaving silence in her wake.
“Jack…” My voice broke. My heart thundered against my ribs, memories of the past year and a half flooding me with guilt and fire.
My affair with Raul. The child born of dark passion.
The poisons I had brewed to kill my own daughter.
My visits with John James and Malik. My betrayal of everything I once swore to protect.
I stepped toward him, small and shaking like a lamb approaching a butcher.
“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” I whispered, the lie coating my tongue.
Jack didn’t move.
Arms crossed. Jaw locked. Eyes like frostbite. His silence was louder than any scream.
He didn’t need to speak. I already knew.
I wasn’t welcome here.
But I was done shrinking and done pretending.
So, I stood taller. Took a breath.
No matter what happened next, I would live.
With or without their forgiveness.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, the words falling flat in the heavy silence between us.
My voice was small, nearly swallowed by the thick, unmoving air.
Jack’s face remained frozen in a grimace, his expression hard and unreadable.
He said nothing. The space between us was filled with everything we weren’t saying.
“I searched everywhere for the Moon Dagger,” I offered, desperate to bridge the chasm.
He tilted his head, squinting at me through one eye, suspicious.
I shifted uneasily under his stare. My voice faltered. “It was all for nothing. I came home empty-handed. But I’m not the same woman who left, Jack. I’ve changed. You have to believe me. I love you. I don’t want a divorce.”
Something in his face softened—just barely. A flicker of the man I once knew passed through his eyes. He stepped closer, his voice low, heavy with conflicted emotion.
“Okay,” he said, the word thick and slow, like it cost him something to say. “We can try.”
He reached for me, and we embraced—tight, like people clinging to the wreckage of something long since sunk.
But as I melted into his arms, my mind betrayed me.
I thought of Raul’s rough hands, fire, and hunger in his kiss.
With Raul, I had felt devoured, unraveled, worshipped, and ruined all at once.
Jack’s embrace felt pale by comparison—safe, yes, but uninspired.
Passionless. His love was steady. Raul was consuming.
And part of me hated myself for craving the fire over the calm.
When we finally pulled apart, Jack said, “You should see Lee. He’s been worried sick since you vanished.”
I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to say more. “It’s good to be back. I’m… grateful you’re willing to try.”
Before he could respond, I turned and rushed toward the door.
But I wasn’t just going to see Lee.
I had a dagger to poison.
And that meant finishing what I had started with Raul. Without a word, I grabbed what I needed and slipped away, not looking back.
Not even once.
I knocked timidly when I reached Lee’s condo.
No answer.
Good. He’s out.
I slid the key he’d once trusted me with into the lock and stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind me with barely a sound.
The scent hit me first—stale beer and sweat thick in the air, clinging to the walls like rot. I scanned the room—empty bottles littered every surface, a graveyard of glass glinting in the dim light.
So, he’s a drunk now. Perfect.
Swallowing my disgust, I went to the back of the condo, to the drawer where I’d once found Olivia’s dagger. My fingers moved fast, unscrewing the tiny vial of poison Raul had helped me perfect. I smeared a thin layer across the blade’s tip with practiced precision. One nick was all it would take.
Footsteps thundered outside the front door.
My blood ran cold.
I shoved the dagger back where I’d found it and walked away, struggling to calm the hammering in my chest. Even when I reached the living room, I tried to look composed and casual.
The door burst open.
Lee stood in the doorway, his expression dark, his frame looming.
“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped. “You were supposed to stay and protect Olivia, not vanish into time!”
His words sliced deep, every syllable jagged and unforgiving.
He narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been in my house?”
“I just got here,” I lied.
He stormed past me like a hurricane of rage, disappearing down the hall. My breath caught in my throat.
When he returned, he was gripping Olivia’s dagger.
Tight. White-knuckled.
The silver glinted under the low light, deadly and sharp.
“Why was this moved?” His voice was a growl now, barely contained. “I left it in one place. I always leave it in one place.”
A shiver crept down my spine. If even a sliver of skin touched the poisoned edge…
He’d die.
A lump swelled in my throat. “I—I moved it,” I admitted. “I was afraid Balthazar might come looking for it. I just wanted to keep it safe.”
His face twisted into something feral. “Sit the fuck down, you lying bitch.”
I froze.
“I’ve got questions,” he hissed. “And if you lie to me again, I swear to God, you’ll regret ever walking through that door.”
My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed onto the sofa, heart thudding in my ears.
I had poisoned the blade.
And now, death was sitting in Lee’s hands.
“I know exactly who you are,” Lee snarled. “Did you think your lies would protect you? I know you’re a monster.”
He lunged toward the side table, grabbed a battered manila folder, and thrust it inches from my face.
With shaking hands, he flung it open. Inside were crumbling, yellowed pages—my diary.
The one I had tried to burn in his fireplace and now taped back together like a grotesque jigsaw puzzle of guilt.
A cold, suffocating dread crept over me as I stared at the scorched remnants of my confessions—proof of everything I had buried in ash.
“You’re nothing but a liar,” he growled, voice shaking with fury.
“I found your journal in the fire pit. Did you honestly think you could destroy the evidence and walk away clean?” Lee violently shook the folder, and the pages rained to the floor like dead leaves.
“I read every word. I know your plan—to take the blades and drown this world in blood and chaos. You’re evil. ”
My heart thundered in my chest. I scanned the room, desperate to break his attack. The coffee table was littered with empty beer bottles.
Without thinking, I grabbed one and hurled it across the room. It exploded against the wall, glass shards scattering like a warning.
“Oh, you’ve been drinking?” I shouted, trembling with rage. “That’s how you chose to handle my disappearance? Drowning your panic in alcohol while I was out there fighting to survive? Pathetic.”
“You’re wrong, bitch,” he shouted, eyes blazing. “Dead wrong. I’m done with your lies, your manipulations, your goddamn games. I will protect Olivia from whatever plan you’re hiding—and I swear to you, I’ll take you down if it’s the last thing I do. Now get the fuck out of my house.”
His fury scorched the air. Something in his voice told me he meant every word.
I didn’t argue. I fled—shaking, breath shallow, heart pounding—straight to my car, with the ashes of my secrets still clinging to my skin.
I was just about to unlock my vehicle when I saw him.
Across the street, standing beneath the streetlight, was the Scholar. His face was etched with lines—marks of wisdom, age, and perhaps deception. He smiled, as if we were old friends meeting again after lifetimes apart. His cane tapped steadily against the pavement as he approached.
A cold ripple climbed my spine. Had I imagined his menace? Had I conjured a nightmare out of nothing?
“You’re impeding my progress,” I snapped. “Move. I’m done playing along with your charade.”
“Alina,” he said gently, “I’m only trying to help.”
“Help?” I lunged toward him, fury igniting. “You call fear and manipulation help? You locked me in a prison of shadows and paranoia, Scholar.” I sneered. “You and that pathetic disguise of intellect and civility.”
In one swift motion, I yanked the glasses from his face and snapped them in two. He recoiled, startled. Before he could react, I seized his cane and hurled it across the asphalt.
He swayed, unsteady. For a moment, I thought he might fall.
“You expect me to believe Balthazar and Zara didn’t send you?” I spat. “Don’t insult my intelligence. But let me clarify one thing—I am not afraid of you.”
His warmth vanished. An icy glare settled into his eyes. “I have a name,” he said. “Lazarus.”
I laughed—a cold, bitter sound laced with contempt.
“Lazarus. How ominous. The name of a ghost. Or is it just some washed-up fraud clinging to myth and parlor tricks?” I stepped closer, my voice a hiss.
“You think you can intimidate me? Scare me into submission? Think again. There’s someone far more powerful watching over me.
His name is Salvatore, and he is not your equal.
Not even close. So, get out of my way… or learn what real power feels like. ”
I turned and strode toward my car, my heels echoing like gunfire on the pavement, leaving him to choke on the fury I’d set loose.
But then, his voice, sharp and cold, stabbed into my spine.
“Is that right?” Lazarus said, his words slicing through the night like a blade of frost. “Salvatore has promised you safety and deliverance?” He chuckled darkly. “Astonishing. Truly. I’m in awe.”
I froze.
Then, heat erupted.
I turned just in time to see flames burst from Lazarus’ hand, slamming into the building beside him. Fire swallowed brick and glass, the heat crashing into my skin like a tidal wave. I stumbled back, heart racing.
“If you think that will save you,” he snarled, eyes glowing like molten pits, “go ahead—cling to your dark prince. But don’t mistake desperation for strength. You’re a fool, Alina.”
He stepped toward me, power radiating off him in waves.
“You think by aligning with Salvatore, by playing games with Balthazar, and poisoning your daughter’s blade, you’ve outsmarted me?
” His lip curled. “You masquerade as a mother, a protector—but you loathe Jack, right? You wear your benevolence like a mask, but it’s slipping. ”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut through me like thunder.
“I will not let Olivia fall again. I will defend her with my life.”
“Again?” I gasped, my voice breaking.
That was when I felt them.
Cold. Slick. Alive.
Dozens of snakes slithered up my legs—ghostly, unnatural, scales like ice against my skin. I screamed, but no sound escaped. My mouth refused to move, sealed shut by some unseen force.
The serpents coiled tighter, wrapping my arms and waist and winding up my throat. Their heads nuzzled at my lips, hissing, pushing, trying to worm their way inside.
Panic detonated in my chest like a bomb. I clenched my jaw, squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the nightmare slithering across every inch of me—but it was futile. I was drowning in their writhing, icy bodies.
Lazarus stood amid the inferno—unmoved, untouched, as if fire bowed to him.
And in that moment, clarity struck like lightning.
He wasn’t a scholar.
He was a monster wearing the mask of reason.
His eyes gleamed with hatred as he spoke.
“I created you, Alina. I made you a Timeborne. And your pathetic attempts to forge that journal, to erase what you are, will fail. You can burn the pages, twist the tale, but I remember everything.” He took a step forward, his voice growing colder.
“You are the vilest, most underhanded serpent I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter again.
Every word that leaves your lips is soaked in deceit—and I see through all of it. ”
My thoughts spun. He created me? No… no, that was the Eclipsarum Obscura. It had to be. He was lying—wasn’t he?
The snakes coiled tighter. My body trembled, smothered by their scales. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My heart thrashed wildly, threatening to shatter through my ribs.
Lazarus stood calm, almost amused, as my body writhed in invisible agony.
Then, he vanished from a distance and reappeared right before me. One heartbeat, he was yards away. Next, his hands crushed around my throat like iron shackles.
The snakes tightened with him, responding like hounds to their master.
I tried to scream, to fight, but no sound came. No strength remained.
“Your reckoning is coming,” he whispered. His eyes glinted with malice, old and bottomless. “You thought Salvatore could shield you? Let his twisted games begin.”
He tightened his grip, savoring the fear in my eyes.
“I will watch him fall,” he snarled. “And when the final shadow descends, I’ll be waiting at the end of the tunnel—with a smile. I’ll see you both broken, and I’ll have the last laugh.”
His gaze pierced into me, a searing brand of hatred. It scorched my soul with the promise of vengeance.
“I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer,” he promised.
And then—like smoke in a violent wind—he vanished.
And I collapsed in the silence he left behind, still wrapped in the echo of his fury.