The moment Nicola stepped back into the suite, she felt a shift in the air. It was familiar, safe, but no longer just their home - it had become a war room.The triplets sat in the living area, waiting. Damien leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, his golden eyes sharp and unreadable. Dylan stood near the window, the moon light reflecting in his gaze, while Dean was perched on the arm of the couch, his fingers drumming against his knee.They had been waiting for her.The weight of everything she had learned pressed against her ribs, making it hard to breathe. She shut the door behind her and exhaled.“We need to talk.”Dean straightened. “That bad, huh?”She walked over to the table, placing the thick, leather-bound book in front of them. “Worse.”Damien leaned forward, running his hands over the worn cover. “Your father’s last records?”Nicola nodded. “And not just his. This goes back generations. Elias, Jacob, my father… they were all part of something much bigger than we thought.
The revelations were still fresh, raw, overwhelming. Her mood shifted.Elias. Jacob. Her father. A tangled mess of ambition, power, and sacrifice - stretching across generations until it finally landed on her.Nicola squeezed her eyes shut. Why did it have to be her?Her fingers curled around the book's worn leather cover, but she didn’t open it. Not yet. She couldn't. Not when her thoughts were spinning in circles, crashing into each other like a storm she couldn't contain.She barely noticed the triplets moving around her, exchanging glances that she was too drained to decipher.She did, however, notice the mate bond.It wasn’t just a comforting hum - it was insistent, pressing, pulling.And beneath it, she could feel them. Dean. Dylan. Damien. Their emotions mirrored her own. Frustration. Anger. But most of all - worry.Nicola exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. She was pulling them down with her.A sharp sound snapped her out of her thoughts.Damien had set his knife down on the
The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of turning pages. Nicola sat at the table, the old leather-bound book open before her, her fingers tracing the faded ink. The air smelled of parchment, dust, and something else - something almost metallic, like the echo of old magic trapped within the words.Dylan, Damien and Dean were close by, watching her intently. They had spent hours flipping through her father’s research, comparing the notes left by the Order with those in the journal, piecing together the truth.And finally, they had found it.A passage stood out, written in her father’s meticulous hand:"The final key to unraveling the altars lies within the bloodline itself. The path Elias carved still lingers, the seal remains, but only one of his own can unveil the truth. Beware those who still follow his path - some betray their own blood to seek what they should never have touched."Nicola’s breath caught in her throat."The bloodline," she murmured.Dylan leaned over her shou
Marcus sat behind his heavy wooden desk, his sharp gaze locked onto Nicola and his sons. His office, a space usually filled with authority and control, now felt heavy with tension. Stacks of reports sat forgotten as an entirely different kind of threat loomed over them.Nicola swallowed hard, gripping the worn leather book she had brought with her. It held the history of her bloodline, the twisted secrets that had led them here. She could feel the triplets' presence beside her, their support grounding her."Start from the beginning," Marcus said, his voice calm but edged with something deeper - an unease he was trying to mask.Nicola took a breath. "You already know that my father was involved with the Order," she began. "But what we didn’t know until recently was just how deep it ran. He wasn’t just a member, Marcus - he was part of something bigger, something that spanned generations."She placed the book on the desk and flipped it open to a marked page. A name stared back at them i
Marcus’s office was heavy with silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. Nicola sat at his desk, her fingers pressed against the worn cover of her father’s book. The triplets stood close, their presence grounding her, yet doing little to ease the storm brewing inside her mind.Marla had orchestrated this from the very beginning. Every step they had taken, every discovery they had made - it had all been within her plans."You were never in control."Her last message burned in Nicola’s mind. A challenge. A taunt.Or worse - a truth.Marcus paced behind his desk, his sharp gaze fixed on the rune that Nicola had traced in her father’s book.“If this was just a threat,” Damien began, arms crossed tightly over his chest, “she wouldn’t have needed the rune. A threat is a statement. This - this was something more.”“She’s been watching us,” Dylan said, his voice grim. “That rune wasn’t just a warning - it was a tracker.”Nicola clenched her jaw. “But why? If she was already playing us, w
The ride to the Order’s stronghold was silent. Tension coiled in Nicola’s chest, pressing against her ribs like an iron vice. She sat in the backseat between Damien and Dean, their bodies warm at her sides, but it did nothing to stop the cold weight of uncertainty pressing down on her.Dylan drove, his hands gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. No one spoke. Not even through the mate bond.Marcus had refused to accompany them. "This is your battle to fight," he had said. But Nicola had seen it in his eyes - the weight of the past, the knowledge that returning to the Order meant stepping into a world of secrets, manipulations, and carefully spun webs of power.Nicola exhaled sharply, her fingers grazing the necklace resting against her collarbone. The very object that had linked her to Marla. The very thing that might be her downfall.When the Order’s fortress finally came into view, her stomach twisted.It looked exactly how she remembered - cold, imposing, filled with ghosts of
The hallway outside the council chamber felt colder than before, as if the very walls carried the weight of her decision. The torches flickered against the dark stone, but they did nothing to push away the looming dread curling in Nicola’s chest.She had time until sunrise.Until then, she had to decide:Bind herself to the Order to sever the link with Marla… or walk away and risk staying in her enemy’s grasp.But as much as she hated the idea of becoming part of the very institution that had manipulated her bloodline, she knew one thing:Marla wasn’t going to wait for her decision.The triplets walked in tense silence beside her. Their bond was full of unspoken words, emotions tangled in frustration, protectiveness, and something dangerously close to fear.Nicola barely noticed when they reached the room the Order had given them for the night. The door slammed shut behind them, and the moment it did, Dean turned on her.“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice sharp, eyes blazing.Dyl
The darkness didn’t disappear.Even as the necklace shattered in Nicola’s hands, even as Marla’s scream echoed through the Archives, the shadows remained.And then - they moved.Like something alive.A suffocating force pressed against Nicola’s chest as she stumbled back, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The triplets were near, but she barely registered them. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as if the very walls were closing in.But Marla wasn’t fleeing.She was laughing.A sound that sent a deep, primal unease skittering up Nicola’s spine."You think this was a victory?” Marla’s voice was sharp, raw, filled with something unhinged. “You think breaking the link would stop me?"Nicola’s pulse thundered. The shattered remains of the necklace lay at her feet, but instead of diminishing, the shadows were growing.Something wasn’t right.She severed the link. She cut off Marla’s hold.Then why did it feel like they had just made everything worse?The shadows surged.Not tow
The ruins of the Order’s stronghold still smoldered, filling the air with the acrid scent of burnt stone, ash, and old magic. Nicola stood at the edge of the destruction, staring into the wreckage with a sinking feeling in her stomach. The once-imposing fortress was reduced to jagged remains, blackened by fire and laced with deep cracks from the violent collapse.The triplets flanked her, their expressions grim as they surveyed the devastation."Do you think anyone made it out?" Dylan asked, his voice low."Unlikely," Damien muttered, kicking a loose stone from his path as they moved closer. "We barely made it out.Dean exhaled sharply, scanning the ruins with wary eyes. "We should check anyway. Someone might have survived."Nicola nodded, though she wasn’t sure what she was hoping to find. The Order had been both an enemy and an ally in the past weeks. She still hadn’t fully decided whether they could be trusted. Now, it seemed that choice had been made for her.The group carefully s
The ruins still smoldered behind them, the scent of burned stone and magic thick in the air. Nicola’s pulse pounded as she faced Elias, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering embers of the destruction they had barely escaped." This didn’t start with me. " His words echoed in her mind, unraveling everything she thought she knew.She tightened her grip on the worn leather of her father’s book. The triplets stood close, their presence grounding her, but nothing could prepare her for the weight of the truth she was about to hear.Elias took a slow step forward, his movements deliberate. “You’ve been asking the wrong questions, Nicola. This isn’t just about the Order, or Marla, or the altars.”His gaze pinned her in place.“It’s about you.”The air felt too thin.Nicola forced herself to speak. “What do you mean?”Elias exhaled, his eyes flickering to the triplets before settling back on her. “This didn’t begin with me, my son or grandson.”Dean’s jaw tightened. “Then where does it be
The dust still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating, as Nicola stood on the uneven ground outside the collapsed tomb. The night was eerily quiet, as if the world itself was holding its breath.Elias was free.And he wasn’t running. He waited.Nicola’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of everything they had just uncovered pressing against her ribs. The triplets flanked her, their postures tense, their eyes locked on the man who had once been nothing more than a name in a forgotten book.Now, he was standing in front of them - alive, breathing, and entirely too calm.Dylan was the first to break the silence.“You should be dead,” he growled, his voice edged with restrained fury. “You were supposed to be...”Elias tilted his head slightly, studying him with an almost amused expression. “Supposed to be what?” he murmured. “A ghost? A warning? A lesson in a book?”His golden eyes flicked to Nicola.“No,” he said, as if answering a question she hadn’t even asked. “I was suppose
The first chain snapped.The sound ripped through the underground chamber, deep and unnatural, like the snarl of a beast awakening after centuries of restless sleep.Nicola's breath hitched as the vibrations from the broken links rippled through the stone floor, unsettling the dust that had settled over the tomb for generations. The triplets reacted instantly - Dean and Damien stepping in front of her, Dylan pulling her back by instinct.But it was too late.Another snap.And another.The chains, thick as an iron-forged prison, began to unravel, each link breaking apart as if an unseen force was unbinding them.The inscriptions on the sarcophagus pulsed, the word "Condemned" flickering between visibility and something far darker.Then the whispers began.Low at first. Crawling through the cavern like a rising tide, seeping into the cracks between the stones, the edges of Nicola's mind.Words she couldn't understand.But felt.Felt like a storm gathering on the horizon.Like a prophecy
The silence was suffocating.Dust still hung in the air, swirling in the dim torchlight like restless spirits. The collapse above had sealed them inside the hidden chamber, trapping them in a tomb of ancient stone.But it wasn’t the darkness that unsettled Nicola.It was the altar.Half-buried beneath rubble, carved from black obsidian, and marked with a name that shouldn’t have existed anymore.Elias.The name whispered through the chamber, even though no one had spoken it aloud. A name that carried weight, history, power - the root of everything that had led them here.Nicola swallowed, taking a slow step forward. The triplets stood close behind her, their eyes scanning the ruins, their bodies tense.“This place…” Dylan’s voice was low, cautious. “It wasn’t on the Order’s maps.”“No,” Nicola murmured, her fingers brushing against the rough surface of the altar. The stone was cold - not in the way stone should be, but in a way that made her fingers feel numb as soon as they touched i
The darkness didn’t disappear.Even as the necklace shattered in Nicola’s hands, even as Marla’s scream echoed through the Archives, the shadows remained.And then - they moved.Like something alive.A suffocating force pressed against Nicola’s chest as she stumbled back, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The triplets were near, but she barely registered them. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as if the very walls were closing in.But Marla wasn’t fleeing.She was laughing.A sound that sent a deep, primal unease skittering up Nicola’s spine."You think this was a victory?” Marla’s voice was sharp, raw, filled with something unhinged. “You think breaking the link would stop me?"Nicola’s pulse thundered. The shattered remains of the necklace lay at her feet, but instead of diminishing, the shadows were growing.Something wasn’t right.She severed the link. She cut off Marla’s hold.Then why did it feel like they had just made everything worse?The shadows surged.Not tow
The hallway outside the council chamber felt colder than before, as if the very walls carried the weight of her decision. The torches flickered against the dark stone, but they did nothing to push away the looming dread curling in Nicola’s chest.She had time until sunrise.Until then, she had to decide:Bind herself to the Order to sever the link with Marla… or walk away and risk staying in her enemy’s grasp.But as much as she hated the idea of becoming part of the very institution that had manipulated her bloodline, she knew one thing:Marla wasn’t going to wait for her decision.The triplets walked in tense silence beside her. Their bond was full of unspoken words, emotions tangled in frustration, protectiveness, and something dangerously close to fear.Nicola barely noticed when they reached the room the Order had given them for the night. The door slammed shut behind them, and the moment it did, Dean turned on her.“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice sharp, eyes blazing.Dyl
The ride to the Order’s stronghold was silent. Tension coiled in Nicola’s chest, pressing against her ribs like an iron vice. She sat in the backseat between Damien and Dean, their bodies warm at her sides, but it did nothing to stop the cold weight of uncertainty pressing down on her.Dylan drove, his hands gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. No one spoke. Not even through the mate bond.Marcus had refused to accompany them. "This is your battle to fight," he had said. But Nicola had seen it in his eyes - the weight of the past, the knowledge that returning to the Order meant stepping into a world of secrets, manipulations, and carefully spun webs of power.Nicola exhaled sharply, her fingers grazing the necklace resting against her collarbone. The very object that had linked her to Marla. The very thing that might be her downfall.When the Order’s fortress finally came into view, her stomach twisted.It looked exactly how she remembered - cold, imposing, filled with ghosts of
Marcus’s office was heavy with silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. Nicola sat at his desk, her fingers pressed against the worn cover of her father’s book. The triplets stood close, their presence grounding her, yet doing little to ease the storm brewing inside her mind.Marla had orchestrated this from the very beginning. Every step they had taken, every discovery they had made - it had all been within her plans."You were never in control."Her last message burned in Nicola’s mind. A challenge. A taunt.Or worse - a truth.Marcus paced behind his desk, his sharp gaze fixed on the rune that Nicola had traced in her father’s book.“If this was just a threat,” Damien began, arms crossed tightly over his chest, “she wouldn’t have needed the rune. A threat is a statement. This - this was something more.”“She’s been watching us,” Dylan said, his voice grim. “That rune wasn’t just a warning - it was a tracker.”Nicola clenched her jaw. “But why? If she was already playing us, w