Chapter Eighty-One: Carol's POV

Chapter Eighty-One: Carol's POV

"Then why did those students say they saw me?" I demanded. "Why does Caitlin think I'm the one who brought her to that warehouse?"


Cecilia was quiet for a long moment.


When she spoke again, her voice had lost some of its warmth. "Someone is using my signature to cover their tracks. Someone with enough power to mimic my abilities, or at least enough to make it look like I'm the one doing the controlling. Which means you have a bigger problem than newborn vampires, because whoever is framing both of us has resources I don't immediately recognize."


She started to turn away, and I grabbed her arm without thinking. Her skin was ice-cold under my fingers, and the look she gave me made me immediately let go.


"I need to know," I said. "I need to know who's doing this and why."


"So do I," Cecilia said. "Which is why I'm staying in Seattle until I figure it out."


She turned and walked into the shadows between the trees, and I knew better than to try to follow her.


By the time I made it back to the dorm, my hands had stopped shaking but my mind was still racing.


Emma was sitting on her bed when I came in, her laptop open but clearly not doing any work. She looked up when I entered.


"What the hell was that?" she asked.


"One second you're talking to me, and the next it's like I couldn't control my own body. I just ran, and I don't even know why I ran, and—" She stopped, taking a breath. "What's going on, Carol? And don't tell me it's nothing, because I'm not stupid."


I closed the door behind me, suddenly exhausted. "It's complicated," I said.


"Then uncomplicate it," Emma said. "Because right now I'm stuck between thinking I'm going crazy and thinking you did something to me, and I really don't want to believe the second one."


I looked at her, at this girl who'd been nothing but kind to me, who'd stood by me even when half the campus thought I was somehow involved in student disappearances, and I made a decision.


"I can control people," I said quietly. "With my mind. I can make them do things, believe things. I used it on you tonight to make you run because there were dangerous people in those woods and I didn't want you to get hurt."


I dropped my gaze, waiting for her reaction.


"So," she said finally, her voice tentative. "The thing with Caitlin? Those accusations? Someone with your ability could—" She didn't finish, but the implication was clear.


"It wasn't me," I interrupted. "But yes. Someone with that kind of ability could have controlled those students and made them believe they saw something that never happened."


Emma was quiet for a long time. Then she closed her laptop and looked at me directly.


"Can you control me right now? Could you make me forget all of this?"


"Yes," I admitted. "But I won't. Not unless you ask me to."


She thought about that for a moment, then shook her head. "No. I don't want to forget. I want to know what's real, even if it's scary." She paused, her voice softening. "Besides, you saved me tonight. Whatever those people in the woods were, I could tell they were dangerous. And you put yourself at risk to keep me safe. So I'm choosing to trust you."


The relief that washed over me nearly brought tears to my eyes. "Thank you," I said. "You have no idea how much that means."


"Just promise me one thing," Emma said. "Promise you'll be careful. Whatever you're caught up in, it sounds like it's only going to get more dangerous."


"I promise," I said. And I hoped it was a promise I could keep.


Later that night, after Emma had finally fallen asleep, I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling and turning over everything that had happened. Cecilia's words kept echoing in my mind: Someone is using my signature to cover their tracks.


If someone was framing both of us, someone powerful enough to mimic Cecilia's abilities, then the question wasn't just who. It was why. What did they gain by making it look like I'd kidnapped those students?


Those questions haunted me through the night.


Emma asked me at breakfast if I'd slept poorly, and I only gave a vague nod.


I went through the morning classes mechanically.


By afternoon, I was in the lab organizing samples.


The lab was quiet, and this repetitive work should have helped calm my mind, but it didn't.


I was bent over my workstation, carefully logging the day's samples into the database, when I glanced up through the window.


Simon.


He stood perfectly still near the stone bench, one hand tucked into the pocket of his dark coat, the other checking his watch.


The late afternoon sun caught the edge of his profile, and even from this distance, I could make out the sharp line of his jaw, the way his shoulders carried that natural authority that made people instinctively step aside.


My chest filled with complicated emotions—relief, anxiety, and a warmth I didn't want to examine too closely.


He wasn't supposed to be back yet. According to Leon's last update, the Andreas family's weapons supply line on the East Coast should have taken at least another week to dismantle.


I saved my work with trembling fingers, my mind already racing through possible reasons for his early return.


The Andreas situation had been escalating for months, and Simon had been personally overseeing the operation because their weapons were getting dangerously close to Seattle's borders.


For him to come back early meant either complete success or something had gone catastrophically wrong.


I stripped off my white lab coat, draping it over the back of my chair, buying myself a few seconds to steady my breathing.


This was the first time I would see him face-to-face since that kiss in his study.


The memory hit me with physical force. I remembered how his mouth had claimed mine with a hunger that felt like it had been building for years, how his fingers had tightened in my hair to angle my head exactly where he wanted it.


I'd replayed that kiss a thousand times in the week since it happened.


Analyzing every second, trying to understand what it meant.


Was it just Alpha possessiveness over someone he'd protected for eight years, or was it something more?


The question had been eating at me, and now he was here.


I had no answers and a hundred new questions churning in my mind.


I practically flew down the three flights of stairs, my sneakers squeaking against the polished floors, and I had to force myself to slow down before I burst through the main entrance like an overexcited puppy.


The evening air was cool against my flushed face as I stepped outside, and I spotted him immediately, turning from his position by the bench to face me.


His golden eyes locked onto mine.


I closed the distance between us, my pulse racing.


"Simon," I breathed out his name, suddenly unsure what to say, all the words I'd been rehearsing in my head for the past week evaporating. "I didn't know you were back. I thought—the East Coast operation—"


"I heard about the Council investigation," he cut me off. "So I came back early."


He'd come back because of me.


The thought made something warm unfurl in my chest even as guilt twisted alongside it. He'd abandoned an important mission, all because I'd gotten myself into trouble again.


I wanted to tell him about everything.


About Caitlin's accusation, the warehouse, and the blonde woman who'd saved Emma and me from those vampires.


But under his gaze, all the words stuck in my throat.


"Come on," he said, gesturing toward the street where I could see his car parked at the curb. "We should talk somewhere private."