Chapter 28 #2
White stretched out as far as the eye could see, a stark and unnatural canvas smothering the fertile land I’d worked so hard to secure for my people.
For a brief, disorienting moment, I thought it was snow.
But upon closer inspection, I saw how wrong it was—too even, too smooth, and clinging like ash to everything it touched.
The crops were worse. Once vibrant and thriving, they now hung low and withered, their leaves curling in on themselves like dying embers. Some had already turned brown, the brittle stalks crumbling under the weight of decay.
I stalked forward, my shadows licking at the ground in my wake.
Two farmers hurried toward me, their faces pale and etched with worry. Their boots kicked up small puffs of the white substance with each step.
“Boss,” one of them started, his voice trembling slightly. “We don’t know what the hell happened. Everything looked fine yesterday. The soil, the crops—everything was thriving. And then this—” He gestured helplessly to the destruction around us.
I crouched, scooping up a handful of the white material. It was fine, powdery, and cold to the touch. “What the fuck is this?” I demanded, turning to the farmer.
He shook his head, his hands wringing together nervously. “We’ve never seen anything like it. It wasn’t here last night, I swear. We checked the fields before we locked up, and everything was fine.”
I tossed the powder back onto the ground, brushing my hands off on my coat. My shadows slithered restlessly at my feet, a reflection of my growing fury.
“Where did it come from?” I barked, my gaze snapping to the other farmer.
“We don’t know,” he said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “It just appeared overnight. There’s no trace of how it got here, no tracks or signs of anyone tampering with the land.”
I straightened, my jaw tightening. “I want samples taken immediately. Soil, crops, air—everything. I want to know exactly what this is and where the fuck it came from.”
Mario nodded and pulled out his phone, stepping to the side to make the call to my fleet of scientists.
Behind me, Jareth strolled closer, his boots crunching loudly over the brittle, dying plants. He crouched, running a gloved finger through the white substance before inspecting it.
I turned to him, my shadows curling tighter around my shoulders.
He straightened, brushing his hands off and tilting his head as he regarded the fields. “If you ask me, whoever did this doesn’t just want to scare you. They’re baiting you, boss.”
My eyes narrowed. “Baiting me for what?”
Jareth shrugged. “Could be anything. A distraction, a power move, maybe even a personal vendetta. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
I stepped closer to him, my shadows unfurling in a sharp wave that made the air crackle. “What I always do. I’ll remind them why they fear me.”
Jareth raised an eyebrow, a glint of approval in his golden-brown eyes. “That’s the spirit.”
I turned on my heel, striding back toward the SUV, fury simmering in my veins. As I climbed into the vehicle, I cast one last look at the devastated land.
Whoever had done this—whoever had the audacity to strike at me in my own territory—would pay dearly. No mercy. No second chances.
The SUV rumbled to life, and I leaned back in my seat, plotting my next move.
I slammed the door to my office shut, and the silence it ushered in felt deafening.
My shadows slithered restlessly around the room, reflecting the storm churning inside me.
The farmland’s devastation haunted me—the dead crops, the lifeless soil, the white substance that clung to everything like a ghost of ruin.
This attack on my territory was a message, just like Jareth had said.
Someone out there wanted me to know they could strike at the heart of what I’d built.
I tore off my coat and tossed it onto the armchair near the window.
My eyes drifted to the view beyond. The sprawling expanse of my estate had become a stage for someone else’s game.
The people in my territory depended on me for protection, for order—and I had failed them today.
The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, made worse by the memory of my father’s mocking tone. Eyes and ears everywhere.
Unease turned my stomach. My father’s reach extended far, but even he couldn’t have orchestrated this without help. My trust was already razor-thin, and now it felt non-existent.
And then there was Vivian.
Her presence was a constant at the edge of my thoughts, her emotions brushing against mine.
Concern. A faint pulse of worry, persistent and undeniable, like static that wouldn’t fade.
Cursing under my breath, I ran a hand through my hair.
The bond was supposed to strengthen my control, to make her easier to manipulate.
Instead, it was a constant reminder of her existence, her emotions bleeding into mine in a way I couldn’t ignore.
Why the fuck had she stayed by my side when I was injured?
Why had she cared for me when I’d been too broken to stop her?
The image of her hands—gentle, capable, and steady as she bandaged my wounds—rose unbidden in my mind.
She’d looked at me with empathy. Not fear, not calculation, but genuine compassion.
I slammed my fist onto the desk, the sharp crack of wood breaking the silence.
My shadows recoiled at the outburst before surging back, swirling around my feet.
Caring was a weakness. That much my father had drilled into me from the moment I could understand words.
Attachments were liabilities, vulnerabilities waiting to be exploited.
I’d built my life on that principle, on being untouchable, and now…
Now she was undoing me.
I crossed to the liquor cabinet in two strides and poured whiskey into a glass.
The liquor burned down my throat, but it did little to dull my thoughts.
My fingers tightened around the glass until I felt the fine crystal crack.
I released it before it shattered, setting it down with deliberate care.
Why couldn’t I stop thinking about her? She was nothing more than collateral, a means to secure the treaty with Altair.
Yet, every time I tried to put her in that box, she clawed her way out.
The way she’d stood her ground against me, her fire and defiance even in the face of my shadows, was fucking infuriating.
Intriguing. Maddening. Yet in New York, she had opened up to me while listening to things I’d never told another soul.
She had a way of seeing parts of me I didn’t recognize in myself.
My hands fisted at my sides as my emotions overtook me.
My shadows hesitated, taking a moment to gain energy.
Finally, they lashed out, striking the bookcase across the room.
The wood splintered, books cascading to the floor in a flurry of muted thuds.
Panting, I stared at the destruction. The bond flared again, and I felt a quiver of unease from Vivian’s side, as if she’d sensed the storm inside me.
I swore under my breath, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes. This bond was a godsdamned curse. It made her a permanent presence in my mind, her emotions twisting around mine like vines I couldn’t untangle.
“Get a fucking grip,” I hissed at myself.
But the shadows didn’t settle. They writhed and curled, a reflection of the chaos I couldn’t suppress. Whoever was behind the farmland attack was trying to destabilize me, to force me to react. And here I was, on the verge of losing control entirely.
I needed answers. About the attack. About the bond.
About how I couldn’t soften my father’s blows like usual.
And I needed them fast. My thoughts turned to Altair and his promises of Crimson Dominion’s resources.
There had to be something there, some way to tip the scales in my favor and finally rid myself of my father’s shadow and the curse that loomed over my family.
My chest tightened as the memories crept in.
My father’s taunts. His brutal taunts. He’d forced me to watch as he destroyed lives.
He’d forced me to watch him fuck his whores.
I could still feel the searing pain of his shadows as they burned through flesh and bone whenever I’d displeased him.
I’d sworn to myself that I’d never become him.
But every day, I felt the line blurring.
The bond pulsed, bringing me back to the present. This time, it was softer—calmer. Despite everything, she was still there. I couldn’t sever the connection. And somewhere deep down, I didn’t want to.
“Damn you,” I whispered, the words directed as much at myself as at her.
I turned toward the shattered bookcase. The destruction felt pointless now, a hollow attempt to vent the rage and fear simmering inside me. My shadows receded slowly, curling around my feet like wary animals.
There was no room for weakness. I couldn’t let Vivian get any closer. Protect her, provide for her, yes—but never allow myself to care for her or allow her to care for me. That was the line I had to hold, no matter how much the bond whispered otherwise.
I straightened, squaring my shoulders. Tomorrow, I’d push Altair harder. Today, I’d focus on control—over my shadows, over my territory, and over the bond that threatened to undo me.
But as I turned away from the wreckage and headed for the liquor cabinet again, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the damage had already been done. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure if I could fix it.