118. Scarlett
Scarlett
T he fire in the study was dying.
My father stood beside it, motionless, watching the embers like they were the only thing he trusted.
I sat across from him, arms folded, the weight of everything tightening around my ribs. The Codex. The bond. Elira. The bracelet. And now this silence—full of things unsaid.
He poured a drink but didn’t offer one to me.
I wouldn’t have taken it.
“They’re coming,” he said.
“I know.”
He turned slowly, the light catching the scar along his jaw. “You’ve felt them.”
I didn’t answer.
“They’re not supposed to be able to reach you here. Not unless…”
“Unless the bond chose them back,” I said. “And it did.”
He watched me, something unreadable moving behind his expression.
“I didn’t send them to you,” he said. “The Order did. Not long after I left you and your mother.
“You’re not the one who placed the Hollow Order in my life?” My voice was sharp. “Then who the hell did?”
“They had their own motives. They suspected one of the bloodlines survived. That someone from the Red Veil line was still alive. They embedded the boys where the blood ran thickest—watching, waiting. I only learned the truth after the accident.”
My pulse kicked. “The accident.”
He looked away.
“The crash that almost killed me?” I asked, stepping forward. “You caused that?”
“I had to,” he said, voice frayed. “You were six. And you were starting to remember things—flashes of what your mother buried. Your blood. Your bond. The boys. It was surfacing too early. You weren’t safe.”
“So you spelled my memory away,” I said. “Wiped my life clean and left me vulnerable.”
His voice lowered. “I did what I had to do to keep you hidden.”
“You kept me in the dark,” I snapped. “While they watched me. Protected me. Fell in love with me.”
“They didn’t know,” he said, stepping closer. “Not at first. They were sent to watch. But you drew them in. Just like Elira did. Just like the Knot always does.”
I could feel it now—the magic in the walls, the pulse in my hands, the bond clawing deeper. Not just between me and them, but between me and this place. Thirelin was waking. And it recognized me.
“I thought I could rewrite it. Hide you long enough. Distract the fates with something quieter.”
His eyes darkened. “But fate doesn’t care if you’re too young. Or if you’re not ready. It always finds a way.”
I held his gaze. “Maybe you should’ve realized that before you tried to erase me.”
A pause stretched between us, thick and raw.
He didn’t deny it.
Didn’t apologize.
Just let the silence own what he couldn’t undo.
***
I felt them before I saw them.
The entire manor pulsed, stone and shadow bending around some unspoken truth. My truth. The entryway stretched before me, doors already groaning open as if the house itself had known they were close.
Trace stepped through the manor doors first tattoos alive. Alden followed, silent and locked in. Rhett and Kane flanked them, slower, sharper, bracing for anything.
But the bond was louder than all of them.
It throbbed through me like a second heartbeat, alive in my bones.
I moved forward.
My pulse didn’t spike. My hands didn’t shake. Something deeper settled into place.
This wasn’t fear.
This was the moment fate had been circling since the beginning.
Trace’s chest rose hard. The bond roared, heat rippling between us like an old promise come due.
“Scarlett.”
He didn’t shout it. Just said it low, rough—like he’d carried my name in his mouth for miles.
I stepped forward. Slowly.
Then the voice came from behind me.
“Not another step.”
My father.
He appeared at my back, his guards already forming lines—Red Veil weapons raised, silent, disciplined.
The boys didn’t reach for theirs. But they didn’t move either.
My father walked to my side, eyes never leaving the doorway. “You’re trespassing.”
Trace didn’t blink. “She called us.”
“I didn’t hear her,” my father replied coldly.
“She didn’t have to speak,” Alden said.
The energy cracked—faint, but real.
The pull between us wasn’t metaphor anymore. It hummed in the bones of the house. In the veins beneath my skin.
I stepped past the threshold, placing myself between them.
My father didn’t stop me.
But his voice dropped. “You know what they are.”
“I do.”
“Then you know this is war.”
I faced him. “It’s already been war. You just didn’t want to admit it.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’d side with the Order?”
“I’m not siding with anyone,” I said. “But I’m bonded. That’s not something I chose.”
His breath came sharp through his nose “Don’t pretend you don’t want them.”
“I won’t,” I said. “But this—what’s between us—goes beyond want.”
Heat licked at my spine, rising from somewhere deeper than bone. I turned toward the boys—my boys—letting the truth settle like armor across my shoulders. I wasn’t hiding anymore. I wasn’t running. The bond had always been there, waiting.
“They’re part of me now. Not by choice. By design.”
My father’s voice carried years of silence. “The bond will unravel you.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But it’s mine to carry.”
Thirelin pulsed beneath us, the magic drawn tight.
And I knew.
This place wasn’t just reacting to me. It had been waiting, for its heir.