Chapter 82
Sebastian
The antiseptic smell hit me first, sharp and clinical. Then came the ache in my chest where the silver restraints had burned through skin during the worst of the fever. My eyes snapped open to find a young doctor's wrist caught in my grip, his face draining of color as my amber eyes—still carrying traces of that golden vertical slit—fixed on him.
"She," I rasped, voice raw. "Where is she?"
The doctor stammered something about rest and observation, but I was already shoving off the blanket and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The cold tile beneath my bare feet did nothing to ground me as I stalked toward the door. There—beneath the layers of medical chemicals and silver-laced leather—was the faintest trace of moonlight and old magic. She'd been here. The realization hit me hard, and I felt my lips curve into something equal parts satisfaction and fury.
"Sir, you need to lie back down," the doctor was saying, his hand hovering uncertainly near my shoulder. "You've been through severe entropy shock. Your system—"
"My system is fine," I cut him off, though the slight tremor in my legs suggested otherwise. I gripped the doorframe, refusing to show weakness. "Get Marcus. Now."
The doctor fled, and I allowed myself a moment to lean against the wall, closing my eyes and letting my senses expand. She'd been in this room—recently enough that her presence still clung to the air. I could almost see her moving through the space, could imagine those silver-gray eyes assessing escape routes even as she'd come to... what? Save me?
Marcus appeared within minutes, his usually composed face showing strain. "My Lord, you should be resting. The entropy levels—"
"Were brought down by something that wasn't in any medical arsenal," I interrupted, forcing myself to stand straight. "She was here, Marcus. My little moonlight thief broke into a facility with more security than a government black site just to feed me her precious tears." The words came out rough with emotion I couldn't quite name—rage at her defiance, awe at her audacity, and something darker that whispered mine, she came back, she's mine.
Marcus's expression flickered. "Sir, the medical staff reported no unauthorized entries. The only people who accessed your room were cleared personnel and—"
"And she made them think that," I said, beginning to pace despite my body's protests. "She came in the night. Dressed in black, moving like a shadow. She..." I paused, the memory crystallizing with sudden clarity. "She kissed me. Fed me something sweet and cold that tasted like winter starlight."
I could see Marcus's professional mask slip slightly before he caught himself. "My Lord, the entropy can cause hallucinations. The doctors mentioned that the sedatives they administered might have—"
"Then explain this," I said sharply, turning to face him. I gestured to my neck. "She bit me here. And here." My fingers traced the spots, remembering the sharp sting of her teeth. "And before she left, she injected me with something. Check the medical logs—there should be a needle mark that your doctors didn't make."
Marcus's jaw tightened as he pulled out his tablet, fingers flying over the screen. His face went carefully blank—the expression he wore when delivering news he knew I wouldn't like. "There is a needle mark, sir. The attending physician noted it but assumed it was from the IV line that had been removed earlier. The angle and location are... inconsistent with standard procedure."
Vindication surged through me, sharp and sweet. "She was here," I repeated, this time with absolute certainty. "My clever little liar slipped past your security, fed me her Moon Dew, and then drugged me so she could escape again."
Pride. Admiration. The bone-deep satisfaction of knowing that she'd risked everything to save me, even as she planned her next escape.
"We need to review all security footage," Marcus said, already moving toward the door.
"She's too smart for that," I said, but gestured for him to proceed anyway. "But yes, check. And Marcus?" He paused. "Increase the city-wide surveillance. She wouldn't have come all this way just to run immediately. She's still here, somewhere in Ark City, and she's planning something."
After Marcus left, I finally allowed myself to return to the bed, though I didn't lie down. Instead, I sat on the edge, my mind replaying every fragment of memory. Her hands in my hair. Her voice telling me to close my eyes. The desperate way I'd clung to her, begging her not to leave.
The shame of that weakness should have eaten at me, but instead I found myself fixated on one undeniable truth—she'd come back. Despite everything, she'd risked her own safety to save my life.
The question was: why?
I stood and moved toward the bathroom, catching sight of myself in the mirror. What I saw there made me freeze. There, on both sides of my face, were the clear, unmistakable marks of a woman's palm—red and slightly swollen, the pattern of small fingers pressed into my skin like a brand.
She'd slapped me. Not once, but twice, hard enough to leave marks that would take hours to fade even with my enhanced healing. I leaned closer, examining the prints with fascination. They were small, delicate. Yet she'd found the strength to strike me, to leave her mark on my face even as I lay unconscious and helpless.
A slow smile spread across my face, something dark and possessive and utterly enthralled. "Oh, little moonlight. You magnificent, infuriating creature."
The evidence was undeniable now. She'd been here—not a hallucination, but real and solid and brave enough to walk into the lion's den. And she'd saved me, even knowing what I'd do when I woke up.
I pulled out my phone, dialing Marcus. He answered on the first ring. "Sir?"
"She's definitely in the city," I said, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice. "And Marcus? When you find her—and you will find her—bring her to me intact. No tranquilizers, no restraints beyond what's absolutely necessary. I want her conscious and aware when I show her exactly what happens to clever little thieves who break into my room and drug me."
"Understood, sir. Should I alert the Onyx Guard to—"
"No," I interrupted sharply. "This hunt is mine. She came to me, saved me, marked me." My fingers traced the handprints on my face. "The least I can do is return the favor personally."
---
Lirael
The abandoned pier at Frost Harbor smelled of salt and rust, but it was as close to safe as anywhere in this city could be. I pulled my jacket tighter against the morning chill, watching as Elwin emerged from between two shipping containers.
"You look like hell," he said, his sharp features softening with concern. "When's the last time you slept?"
"Does it matter?" I countered, forcing myself to stand straighter despite the exhaustion. "You said you had information. Something urgent."
Elwin's expression shifted to focused intensity. He pulled out a tablet, fingers dancing across the screen before turning it to face me. "We intercepted encrypted communications on the black market channels. Someone's been using Sophia's magical signature to purchase restricted spell components—the kind that can't be obtained through legal means."
My blood went cold as I scanned the messages. I hadn't made any such purchases, which meant someone was either trying to frame me or using my assumed identity as bait.
"Where's the exchange happening?" I asked.
"Whalebone Warehouse, midnight tonight," Elwin said grimly. "And here's the interesting part—the seller is insisting that 'Sophia' show up in person to verify the goods. No proxies, no intermediaries."
"It's a trap," I said flatly, but even as the words left my mouth, I was already calculating angles and odds.
"Obviously," Elwin agreed, then surprised me by pulling out a small, intricately carved stone that pulsed with faint magical energy. "Which is why you're taking this emergency transport rune. The moment things go sideways—and they will—you crush it and it'll pull you to a safe house. No questions, no hesitation."
I took the rune, feeling its weight. "Okay."