Chapter 32
Ember
The trip to my quarters feels like it lasted an eternity, and now the door closes behind me with a finality that echoes through my body.
I stand frozen for several heartbeats before my legs give out and I sink onto the edge of my bed.
The mattress dips beneath my weight, but I barely notice, too numb to feel anything but the hollow space expanding in my chest.
He just… gave up.
My fingers twist in the sheets, gripping until my knuckles turn white. Heat builds behind my eyes, behind my skin, pulsing beneath my sternum like a second heartbeat. A wisp of smoke curls from between my clenched fingers where they’ve started to scorch the cotton.
I stand abruptly, pacing to disperse the energy before I burn something I can’t replace. Like me, the fire always rises when emotions run high. When I’m breaking.
And now, I’m breaking.
I stood up to my mother. Risked my life in the Carpathians. Brought back intelligence that will save lives.
And he can’t even stand up for us.
Oh God, Luke. Why?
The hurt twists, transforms into something sharper, cleaner.
Anger rushes through me like wildfire, burning away the ache.
Anger at my mother for interfering. Anger at Luke for letting her.
But mostly, anger at myself for believing he’d be different from everyone else who’s ever looked at me and seen someone weak who needs protecting.
For a moment, his face flashes in my mind—those dark eyes that I felt like I could get lost in, the way his smile would start slowly at one corner of his mouth before taking over his whole face.
The steady presence that made me feel like I’d found solid ground in the middle of a hurricane.
The way his hands felt against my skin, strong but gentle, like I was something precious but never fragile.
I release a shaky breath that tastes of ash.
A knock at my door cuts through the spiral of my thoughts. I swipe at my eyes, force the fire back beneath my skin, and cross the room in three quick strides.
Pull yourself together, dammit!
Nadia stands in the hallway, all business in her tactical blacks, pale eyes assessing me in one sweep. Her gaze lingers on my face, and I wonder if my emotions are still written all over it. Probably. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions.
“Emergency briefing in fifteen,” she says. “Viktor wants everyone who was in the Carpathians. You’re needed.”
I blink, caught off guard. “I’m off active duty—”
The corner of her mouth twitches in what might be a smile.
“Tell Viktor that. He specifically requested you.”
She turns on her heel without waiting for my response, leaving me standing in the doorway with my heart suddenly kicking against my ribs.
A mission. Purpose. Something to focus on besides the phantom sensation of Luke’s fingers laced through mine, the memory of his voice murmuring against my ear, the hollow where his presence should be.
I head to the bathroom to shower and wash away that scent of him that still clings to my skin. I change quickly, pulling on a clean tank top and cargo pants without even looking at them. My hair is still wet when I pull it back from my face and bind it into a tight ponytail.
You can do this.
When I step into the corridor, my steps are lighter than they should be. Beneath the hurt, something like hope stirs; not for Luke, but for myself. I’m part of a team. I have something valuable to offer.
I keep that thought at the top of my mind as I stride briskly to the meeting room.
It’s already packed when I arrive, screens glowing with satellite imagery and data feeds.
Viktor stands at the head of the table, Caleb and Dorian flanking him, the rest of the team assembled in grim silence.
My gaze catches on my mother sitting to one side, her face a perfectly inscrutable mask.
You’d never think she just deliberately set out to shatter my heart.
Luke’s seat is conspicuously empty. The sight of it—that vacant space where he should be—sends a jolt of physical pain through me.
I half-expect to see him walk through the door, face serious, but eyes finding mine with that silent understanding we’ve come to share.
But the doorway remains empty, and the pain turns into resolve.
I slide into a chair as Viktor starts the meeting and activates the main display.
“The Syndicate’s moving faster than anticipated,” he announces without preamble. “They’ve advanced the ritual timeline. Forty-eight hours, not seventy-two.”
The satellite imagery zooms in on a familiar mountain range. My stomach tightens as I recognize the area surrounding the tomb entrance. Figures move in formation, equipment being unloaded from vehicles.
“We’re deploying a strike team,” Viktor continues. “Objective: disrupt the ritual, prevent power extraction.”
Caleb steps forward, tapping the display to highlight a series of approaches.
“This is high-risk. Close quarters, unstable magical field, Syndicate will be dug in.”
His eyes find mine across the table. “But we need someone who understands the tomb’s energy signature. Someone who knows what’s going on in there.”
The implication hangs in the air.
They need me.
My mother rises from her chair abruptly.
“Absolutely not. She’s off duty pending evaluation—”
“With respect,” Viktor cuts in, his tone firm but diplomatic, “this is an Aurora operation. And Ember’s intelligence made it possible.”
“She’s barely recovered from the last mission—”
“She’s also an adult Aurora Collective operative who can make her own decisions.” Viktor doesn’t raise his voice, but authority radiates from every word.
All eyes turn to me.
I stand, surprised at how steady my voice sounds despite my hammering heart. The emptiness Luke left behind aches like a physical wound, but it fuels something new: a defiance that rises like a flame.
“I’ll go.”
My mother’s face goes pale. “Ember, no—”
“When do we deploy?” I ask Viktor, ignoring my mother’s protest.
“Dawn,” he replies. “Eighteen hours to prep.”
I nod once. “I’ll be ready.”
My mother moves around the table, coming closer.
“You’re not thinking clearly. You’re emotional, exhausted—”
I turn to face her directly. “I’m thinking more clearly than I ever have.” The words don’t waver as they leave my mouth. “Other hybrids are in danger. Our entire species is at risk. I’m not hiding while those Syndicate bastards get away with murder.”
“You could be killed—” Real fear flashes across her face, almost breaking my resolve.
“Then I’ll die doing something that matters.”
The finality in my tone stops her cold. For a heartbeat, I think of Luke, of how he would look at me if he were here.
Would he understand this choice? Or would his eyes hold the same fear as my mother’s?
Like a little girl who needs to be told what to do?
The question burns in my chest, another coal on the fire of my determination.
I lift my chin, not backing down.
Viktor clears his throat. “Vanya, I understand your concern. But I can’t—and won’t—order Ember to stand down.” He pauses, his gaze steady on me. “She’s proven her capability. She’s earned her place on this team.”
My mother sinks into her seat, suddenly deflated. For a moment, I almost feel sorry for her.
The meeting adjourns, everyone filing out with purpose, already discussing gear loadouts and logistics. I move to follow, but my mother’s hand catches my arm, fingers like ice against my overheated skin.
“This is about him,” she hisses once the others are gone. “About Kenan.”
I don’t deny it, but there’s more to it. “This is about me. About proving I’m more than your sheltered daughter.”
“You don’t have to prove anything—” Her voice breaks, revealing a vulnerability I’ve rarely heard.
“Yes, I do. To you. To myself. To everyone who thinks I’m too young or too weak or too hybrid to matter.” The accusation burns its way out of me, sparks literally dancing in my breath.
“You’ll always matter, darling.” My mother’s voice breaks. “Just listen to me in this. Do the smart thing.”
“The smart thing?” I scoff. I shake my head in disbelief at her sheer nerve. “You went to him, didn’t you? Threatened him. Made him think he wasn’t good enough for me.”
She doesn’t respond, and that’s answer enough.
My heart clenches as I imagine Luke facing my mother’s icy fury, believing her lies that he’d only bring me pain, that he wasn’t worthy.
The man who risked his life for me countless times and never flinched, who made me feel whole for the first time in my life. How could he believe he wasn’t enough?
“I protected you—” she starts.
“You controlled me,” I say, my voice rising. The air shimmers between us like desert heat. “Manipulated him. Decided what I’m allowed to feel.” Something cracks inside me, releasing words I’ve been holding back. “I love him, Mom. And you took that from me.”
She freezes, as if I’ve struck her. “You don’t know what you’re saying—”
“I know exactly what I’m saying.” My chest heaves with each breath, smoke curling from my nostrils. “I love him. But that means nothing now. So, I’m going on this mission whether you approve or not.”
“You’re going to regret this, Ember,” she makes a last-ditch attempt. “You’re playing with fire.”
I snort out a laugh. “That really doesn’t frighten me, Mom. I happen to love playing with fire.” With that, I turn on my heel. She stands there motionless as I walk past her and out the door.
There’s literally a cloud of rage hovering over my head as I storm away from the war room toward the armory.
When I get there, I go through equipment with focused intensity, methodically checking each piece.
Tactical vest, weapons, comm gear. The routine may be new to me, but it grounds me, each item adding to a sense of purpose that’s been missing for too long.
As I reach for a backpack, I pause for a moment, remembering how, just days ago, I’d crammed a pack with books and snacks. Like a kid heading out on a holiday camp. No wonder Luke had been so exasperated. So much has changed since then. Now, I feel powerful in a way I’ve never felt.
Not because of magic. Because of choice.
Luke’s absence throbs like a phantom limb.
I can almost see him leaning against the lockers, arms crossed, that half-smile playing on his lips as he watches me check my gear.
I can almost hear his voice, low, steady, telling me to be careful without actually saying the words.
The memory of his kiss, of his hands cupping my face, his hard body pressed against mine…
it burns brighter than any fire I’ve ever conjured.
But memories won’t keep me warm in the coming fight.
Luke thinks walking away protects me. My mother thinks hiding protects me. But I don’t need protection.
I need to be trusted. Respected. Allowed to fight my own battles.
And if that means facing the Syndicate again, so be it.
I check the chamber of my sidearm, the sound crisp and final in the quiet armory. Fire dances along my fingertips, coating the gun briefly in harmless flame before I rein it back in.
The mission awaits. And for once, I’m not running toward danger to escape or to prove something to others.
I’m running toward it because it’s my fight to choose.