Chapter 71 THE LEAK

Chapter 71 THE LEAK
Vivienne’s POV

The amulet burned cold against my palm.

I stared at it, fingers tightening as the faint glow flickered—weak, and unstable. “No,” I whispered, pressing my thumb harder into the stone. “You don’t get to fail me now.” The magic inside it pulsed unevenly, like a dying heartbeat, and a sharp sting shot up my arm.

Caden.

His resistance was growing.

I closed my eyes, forcing calm into my breathing, but the tension stayed coiled tight in my chest. “He’s pushing back,” I said under my breath. “That shouldn’t be possible this fast.”

I paced the length of my suite, the amulet clutched in my hand, its flicker reflecting off the walls like a warning.

This wasn’t gradual degradation.

This was fracture.

I grabbed my phone, dialing Marcus before I could think twice. He answered on the second ring. “What is it?” His voice was steady, controlled, like nothing ever rattled him.

“The spell’s degrading,” I said immediately, not bothering with pleasantries. “Faster than anticipated.”

A pause. Then, “Explain.”

I stopped pacing, gripping the amulet tighter. “Every time he’s near her, it weakens. Every protective instinct, every deviation from the compulsion—it chips at the foundation. I can feel it slipping.” My voice sharpened. “He’s starting to question things.”

Marcus didn’t respond right away. I could almost hear him calculating on the other end. “Then we don’t let it continue,” he said finally. “We eliminate the problem.”

My jaw tightened. “You mean Aria.”

“I mean the source of his resistance,” he corrected smoothly. “No rogue. No distraction. No biological complication.”

“No baby,” I said flatly.

“Exactly.”

I glanced down at the amulet, its glow dimming again. “It’s not enough,” I said, frustration bleeding into my tone. “Even if she’s gone, the damage is already done. He’s starting to remember things he shouldn’t.”

“Then you reinforce the spell,” Marcus replied. “That’s your role in this.”

“I’ve been reinforcing it,” I snapped. “But it’s not holding like it used to. Something’s changed.”

“Or someone’s interfering,” he countered.

I stilled. “You think someone knows?”

“I think someone is asking questions,” he said. “And questions lead to answers if not dealt with quickly.” His voice dropped slightly. “Focus on maintaining control over Caden.”

“That control is slipping,” I said, more quietly this time.

“Then tighten your grip,” Marcus said, tone hardening. “Or you lose everything we’ve built.”

The line went silent for a beat.

“I won’t lose,” I said finally.

“Good,” he replied. “Because failure isn’t an option.”

The call ended.

I lowered the phone slowly, my gaze drifting back to the amulet. The stone pulsed faintly, like it was struggling to stay alive. “You’re tied to him,” I murmured, tracing the edge with my thumb.

“And he’s pulling away.” My reflection stared back at me from the polished surface of the dresser—composed, controlled, but my eyes gave me away.

For the first time, there was fear.

I turned sharply, moving to the center of the room. “Fine,” I said aloud. “If subtlety isn’t working, we escalate.” I grabbed the ritual blade from the table, the metal catching the light as I positioned the amulet in front of me. The air shifted, magic already stirring.

“Stay with me,” I whispered to the stone. “You don’t get to break.”

The blade sliced across my palm in one clean motion.

Pain flared, sharp and immediate, but I didn’t flinch. Blood welled up, dripping onto the amulet as I began the incantation, my voice low and steady. “By blood given and bond enforced, I bind what was broken. I claim what resists. I command what defies.”

The amulet flared brighter for a second, the light almost blinding.

“Yes,” I breathed, leaning closer. “That’s it. Hold.”

The glow surged, heat spreading through my hand, up my arm, into my chest. For a moment, it felt stable again. Strong. Controlled.

Then it flickered.

My breath hitched. “No—”

The light dimmed, not as weak as before, but not steady either. It pulsed unevenly, like it was fighting something.

Like he was fighting me.

I clenched my jaw, pressing my bleeding palm harder against it. “Stop resisting,” I hissed. “You don’t get a choice.” The magic pushed back, not enough to break free, but enough to make my vision blur for a second.

I staggered slightly, catching myself on the table. “Damn it,” I muttered, pulling my hand away. The cut burned, deeper than usual, the blood already slowing as the magic took what it needed.

But the amulet…

It wasn’t stable.

I stared at it, chest rising and falling faster now. “This isn’t working,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “It should be working.” My fingers curled into a fist. “He shouldn’t be able to resist this.”

But he was.

And that meant one thing.

I was losing him.

“No,” I said again, shaking my head. “Not after everything. Not after everything I’ve done.” My gaze hardened, fear shifting into something colder. “If the spell won’t hold him completely… then I remove the reason he’s fighting it.”

Aria.

The name settled in my mind like a target.

“She’s the problem,” I said quietly. “She’s always been the problem.” I moved back to the table, grabbing my phone again. “Then she goes.”

My fingers moved quickly, pulling up Thorne’s contact. I hesitated for half a second, then typed.

Accelerate timeline. Aria must not make it to ultrasound appointment. Do whatever it takes.

I stared at the message for a moment, then hit send.

The response came almost immediately.

Understood. I have a plan.

A slow smile spread across my face, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Good,” I murmured, setting the phone down. “Because I’m done waiting.” I glanced back at the amulet, its weak glow still flickering. “Hold just a little longer,” I whispered. “Long enough for me to fix this.”

Because once Aria was gone…

There would be nothing left to weaken my hold.

No distractions.

No resistance.

Just Caden.

Exactly where I wanted him.

I lifted the amulet, pressing it against my chest, closing my eyes as the faint pulse of magic seeped into me. “You belong to me,” I said softly. “You always have.”

But the flicker didn’t stop.

And somewhere deep down, beneath the control and the calculation…

I knew.

Time was running out.