Chapter 186

Chapter 186
Siena didn’t hear the alarms die. She didn’t hear Damien shouting orders, or Alec swearing, or the thunder of boots rushing through the citadel.

All she heard was the echo of her own voice:

He’s back.

She tasted the words like poison on her tongue.

Her breath faltered, chest tightening until every inhale felt shallow and wrong. Damien still held her pinned to his chest, his heartbeat hammering against her ear like a war drum.

“Siena.” His voice was low, dark. “Tell me exactly what you felt.”

She tried to steady herself. Tried to sort through the collision of sensations tearing through her—fear, heat, the pull to the child, the phantom whisper of a presence she had sworn she’d never feel again.

Her voice cracked. “It was him. I know it. The same presence from the ruins weeks ago. The one that vanished.”

Damien’s hand curved around her jaw, turning her face toward him, forcing her eyes to meet his.

“No one comes back from the dead without consequence,” he said. “If he’s returned, someone brought him.”

“And that someone…” Alec muttered from behind them, “…is probably Leona.”

Siena flinched.

Damien’s body went rigid.

He set her gently back on her feet, but his hands didn’t leave her waist—like he expected her to crumble if he let go.

“Are you steady?” he murmured.

No.

Absolutely not.

Her entire world was unraveling—her sister’s betrayal, the child in danger, a man who should’ve been dead walking again, and Damien, close enough that she felt his breath ghost across her lips.

But she nodded anyway.

He didn’t believe her, not for a second, but he didn’t challenge it. Instead, he slid his thumb along her cheek in a touch so gentle it contrasted violently with the storm burning behind his eyes.

“You stay with me,” he said. “You don’t leave my sight.”

Alec scoffed. “Of course. Because that’s what matters right now—keeping your favorite close.”

Damien’s head snapped toward him.

“Say it again.” His voice dropped low enough to rumble in Siena’s bones.

“Enough,” Siena said sharply, stepping between them again. “Both of you—stop.”

But Damien wasn’t looking at Alec anymore.

He was looking at her.

Looking at her like he wanted to pull her back into his arms and kiss her until she forgot every fear clawing at her. Like his body remembered the taste of her. Like the memory of her shaking against him—her mouth on his, her nails digging into his back—was branded into him.

Her breath caught.

And the moment stretched—

—until Alec slammed a fist against the wall.

“This is insane,” Alec snapped. “We should be moving. Not… staring at each other while the entire empire burns.”

A flicker of guilt cut through Siena’s heat-hazed thoughts.

He was right.

Damien tore his gaze from her, inhaling sharply like he needed to physically pull himself back into mission mode.

“Convoy’s ready,” he barked to his guards. “All units to the east gate. No delays.”

The soldiers sprinted into formation.

Damien reached for Siena again, guiding her with a hand at the small of her back, firm and familiar in a way that made heat curl low in her stomach. His fingers drifted a little too slow, pressing a little too deliberately.

Her breath stuttered—not because she was startled.

Because she wanted it.

“A little focus,” Alec muttered behind them. “For the love of—”

Siena shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting. I’m observing.”

“Well observe more quietly,” she hissed.

Alec grumbled something under his breath, but he followed.

They moved fast through the corridors, boots hammering against stone. Every few steps, Siena felt that tug in her spine again—the connection to the child tightening, like a string being pulled farther and farther east.

“She’s moving quickly,” she whispered.

Damien’s hand tightened on her waist. “Which means Leona is rushing.”

Alec nodded, expression hard. “They’re scared.”

“Good,” Damien said, voice a cold blade. “They should be.”

The east gate loomed ahead, torches blazing as soldiers mounted into armored transports, engines roaring to life. Scouts leapt onto hoverbikes, the air vibrating with energy.

Damien didn’t let go of Siena.

Not even when they reached the armored transport. He pulled her up beside him, one hand still around her waist, the other gripping the rail as he hauled them in with fluid precision.

Alec climbed in after them, slamming the door shut.

The engine rumbled beneath them.

Damien dropped into the seat beside Siena while Alec took the one across from them, arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched so hard the muscle twitched.

“Comfortable?” Alec asked blandly when Damien kept Siena close.

“No,” Damien said. “I’m irritated.”

“At me?”

“At everything.”

Alec smirked. “That’s vague.”

Damien’s eyes cut to Siena. “My focus is where it should be.”

Heat prickled her skin.

Because she knew exactly what he meant.

He leaned in, voice dropping so only she could hear. “Your heart is racing.”

“It’s a stressful situation,” she whispered back.

Damien’s lips brushed her ear—barely, fleetingly, but enough to draw a soft tremor down her spine.

“Is that the only reason?” he murmured.

Alec threw his hands up. “Oh my god.”

Siena flushed, jerking away from Damien and glaring at Alec. “You’re impossible.”

“No,” Alec said, pointing at Damien, “he’s impossible. I’m the sane one here.”

Damien rested an arm behind Siena’s head, his expression calm but his eyes burning. “The sane one who let Leona outsmart him?”

Alec went still.

Too still.

“Damien,” Siena warned.

But it was too late.

Alec lunged.

Damien surged up from his seat at the same time, catching Alec’s arm mid-swing. They slammed into the side of the transport, metal rattling, strength against strength, fury flaring like wildfire.

Siena threw herself between them, palms on both their chests.

“STOP!”

Both men froze, breathing hard.

“Siena—” Alec began.

“No.” Her voice cut through them like a whip. “If you want to fight, wait until the child is safe. Until Leona is stopped. Until we aren’t hurtling toward the ruins with a resurrected monster waiting for us.”

Silence.

Then Damien lowered his arm.

Alec stepped back.

The tension didn’t disappear—it thickened, coiled, hot and sharp and unresolved—but they sat.

Siena dropped into her seat, pressing her fingers to her temples.

The pain in her spine pulsed again.

She gasped.

Damien was at her side instantly. “What is it?”

The breath trembled out of her. “She’s closer.”

“Show me,” Damien said.

She shook her head. “I can’t—”

“You can,” he insisted, taking her hand.

Her breath caught.

The moment their skin touched, something inside her snapped.

Heat raced up her arm.

A spark of energy jumped between them, crackling like electricity.

Siena’s eyes flew open.

The world tilted—

—and suddenly she wasn’t in the transport anymore.

She was somewhere else.

Somewhere cold.

Somewhere dark.

A lantern swung overhead, its flame trembling.

And in the center of the room—

The child.

Curled in the corner.

Eyes wide.

Chest heaving.

Terrified.

But she wasn’t alone.

A shadow moved behind her.

A figure stepped into view—

—and Siena’s heart plummeted.

Not Leona.

Not any mortal she’d known.

Someone older.

Someone impossibly dangerous.

Someone who had nearly destroyed Damien once—and had been presumed dead.

The man smiled, slow and cruel.

“You feel her, don’t you?”

Siena’s breath stopped.

“Good,” he whispered. “Then you’ll feel what comes next.”

His hand lifted—

Claws ripping through human skin.

The child screamed.

And Siena was yanked violently back into her own body.

She collapsed forward, choking on air.

Damien caught her instantly, voice sharp with panic. “SIENA! What happened?”

She trembled violently, her entire body shaking with adrenaline and terror.

Alec leaned forward, face white. “Siena—talk to us. What did you see?”

She lifted her head slowly.

Her eyes filled with tears she didn’t realize had formed.

“He knows,” she whispered. “He knows I’m connected to her.”

Damien froze.

Alec didn’t breathe.

Siena swallowed hard, voice cracking.

“And he said… he said he wants me to feel what comes next.”

“Which means?” Damien asked, voice barely a sound.

Siena’s heart shattered as she said it:

“He’s going to hurt her.”

The transport screeched as Damien slammed his fist into the wall, metal denting beneath the force. His breathing turned ragged, rage ripping through him like a violent wind.

Alec swore, pacing the cabin.

Siena trembled, holding Damien’s sleeve with shaking fingers.

And that was when the radio crackled to life.

“Lord Voss,” a scout’s voice gasped. “We’ve spotted movement at the ruins—f-fleshbound constructs, dozens of them, moving fast. But that’s not the worst part.”

Damien stiffened. “What else?”

The scout swallowed audibly.

“There’s a man leading them.”

Damien’s blood ran cold. “Describe him.”

A long pause.

“He looks like you.”

The radio cut out.

Siena’s heart stopped.

Alec’s eyes widened.

Damien didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t breathe.

Until finally—with a voice that sounded nothing like a mortal man—he whispered:

“…my brother.”