Chapter 185

Chapter 185
Siena didn’t feel her legs when she started moving—only the burn in her lungs and the thunder of her pulse roaring in her ears. The alarms blared overhead, red strobes flashing against the stone walls of the citadel as chaos erupted around them.

But she barely heard it.

Barely felt Damien’s hand wrap around her arm.

Barely recognized her own voice when she said, “She took the child. My sister took her. Damien—my sister.”

Her knees threatened to give out.

He caught her instantly, steadying her with both hands on her arms. His grip was firm—unyielding—but not harsh. And that only made everything inside her unravel more.

“Siena. Look at me,” he said, his voice low but fierce over the alarms.

She lifted her eyes to his.

Damien’s gaze was a storm—dark, violent, consuming—but beneath the fury lived something else. Something rawer. Something that cracked her open.

“We will get her back,” he said. “I swear it.”

She wanted to believe him. Needed to. But terror wrapped cold fingers around her throat.

“She’s taking the child to the ruins,” Siena whispered. “Damien… you know what that means.”

His jaw clenched hard, the muscle ticking. “I do.”

“Then how can you promise—”

“Because I will burn every ruin, every wasteland, every godforsaken piece of this empire to the ground before I let anything happen to either of you.”

His words hit her like a collision—fierce, overwhelming, impossible to breathe around.

And she realized something brutal, something she hadn’t meant to let herself understand:

Damien wasn’t just furious because the child was in danger.

He was furious because Siena was breaking.

And he couldn’t stand it.

A sharp breath trembled out of her. “She’s my sister, Damien. If she’s really with Leona, then—”

“She made her choice,” he said, voice like flint. “You didn’t choose her path. You’re not responsible for her betrayal.”

But guilt swirled in Siena’s chest, thick and suffocating.

“My sister would never… she wouldn’t take a child. She wouldn’t be part of something like this unless—”

“Unless what?” Damien said softly.

Siena swallowed hard. “Unless someone pushed her into it.”

Damien’s expression shifted—something calculating, something violent flickering behind his eyes.

Before he could speak, Alec stepped forward, wiping blood from his jaw with the back of his hand.

“She wasn’t pushed,” he said. “She chose this.”

Siena stiffened. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Alec’s voice was quieter now, but edged with something wounded. “She looked me in the eye. And she didn’t hesitate.”

The words hit Siena like a blade sliding under her ribs.

Damien saw it—felt the way she folded inward—and reached for her again, his hands sliding up her arms, thumbs brushing slow, grounding circles on her skin.

“Siena,” he murmured, “whatever the truth is, we will handle it. Together.”

The word together lingered in the air too long.

Alec’s jaw tightened, and Siena felt the shift—felt the tension thicken the space around them. Damien’s hand was still on her waist, his body too close, his scent wrapping around her like heat and smoke.

And in the middle of crisis, in the middle of panic, her body still reacted to him. Still remembered the way his mouth had moved against hers minutes ago. Still burned from the imprint of his touch.

Alec noticed.

His eyes flicked to Damien’s hand.

Then to her lips—still swollen from Damien’s kiss.

“Really?” Alec muttered under his breath. “This is what we’re doing now?”

Damien didn’t even look at him. “Not your concern.”

“Like hell it’s not,” Alec snapped.

Siena stepped between them. “Stop. Both of you. Not now.”

She didn’t have the energy to deal with their rivalry—not when her sister had betrayed her, not when the child was gone, not when the ruins loomed ahead like a death sentence.

But Damien’s hand brushed her lower back as she turned, a barely-there touch meant to steady her—but it sent a shiver racing down her spine anyway.

Alec saw that too.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “You two pick the worst possible timing.”

“Focus,” Siena said sharply. “We don’t have time for this.”

Damien’s voice dropped into that dangerous, commanding timbre that always sent heat through her blood.

“He’s jealous,” he said coolly. “Ignore him.”

Alec let out a low, humorless laugh. “Jealous? Of what? A glorified tyrant with control issues?”

Damien’s head snapped toward him with slow, lethal precision. “Say that again.”

Alec opened his mouth.

Siena shoved past both of them. “If either of you hits the other, I swear I’m leaving you behind.”

That shut them up. Miraculously.

She strode down the corridor, forcing herself to breathe, to think, to keep from collapsing under everything crushing her.

Her sister.
The child.
The ruins.
Leona.
Damien’s kiss still burning on her lips.

She felt Damien fall into step beside her moments later, his presence large and warm and steady even though fury radiated off him like heat. Alec followed close behind, muttering curses under his breath but keeping pace.

“What’s our plan?” Siena asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Damien answered immediately, already calculating. “We take the convoy east. I’ll deploy the aerial scouts to track Leona’s route. The ruins are vast—we need eyes on the ground.”

“And if we find them?” Siena asked.

Damien looked at her.

Not with the cold certainty of a ruler.

But with the brutal honesty of a man who would destroy the world to protect what mattered.

“If we find them,” he said, “I will end this.”

A shiver ran through her.

Because she believed him.

Before she could reply, a sharp pain shot through her spine.

She gasped, stumbling.

Damien caught her instantly. “Siena?”

Her hand pressed to her lower back—heat pulsing beneath her skin like something alive.

“No,” she whispered. “Not now—”

Alec was suddenly in front of her, his eyes widening. “Shit. She’s reacting.”

Damien’s grip tightened. “Reacting to what?”

But Siena already knew.

Her body wasn’t reacting to danger.

It was reacting to the child.

Their bond—unnatural, inexplicable—had always hummed beneath her skin like a sleeping ember.

Now it was waking.

Flames licked up her spine. Her vision blurred. Her knees buckled.

Damien caught her against his chest, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, lifting her with terrifying ease.

“Siena!” His voice cracked. “What’s happening?”

Her breath hitched, pain and heat twisting through her like molten wire.

“I can feel her,” she gasped. “The child—I can feel where she’s going.”

Damien’s eyes widened—not with fear, but with something bordering on awe. “You’re connected to her.”

Alec swore. “This is bad. This is—this is really bad. She shouldn’t be able to feel her like this unless—”

“Unless what?” Damien barked.

Alec swallowed hard. “Unless the child is in danger.”

Siena’s head snapped up.

And then she felt it.

A scream. Not heard—felt.

A jolt of terror so pure it nearly knocked her unconscious.

Her eyes flew open, a strangled cry tearing from her throat.

Damien’s face went white.

“What is it?” he demanded. “What do you feel?”

Siena’s voice trembled out of her like a broken thing.

“She’s afraid,” she whispered. “Damien—she’s so afraid.”

The alarms continued blaring.

The hall trembled with movement.

But Siena only felt the echo of that fear—sharp, cold, piercing—burning through her veins like ice.

Damien pulled her tighter against him, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with a fury she had only glimpsed before.

“Then we move,” he said. “Now.”

But Siena wasn’t finished.

Because just before the fear crashed through her veins—

She had felt something else.

Something that made her blood freeze.

Her eyes met Damien’s. “There was someone else there.”

Damien’s grip tightened. “Who?”

Siena’s heart hammered.

And her answer fell like a blade:

“Someone who shouldn’t be alive.”

Damien went still.

Alec’s eyes widened.

The alarms cut out abruptly.

And Siena whispered:

“He’s back.”