As golden light poured into the Landon Manor's gardens, Caveen watched Elara play among the blossoms, her laughter bright like bells in spring. Her tiny hands reached for butterflies, her joy so pure it carved a painful warmth into his chest. He had returned just for a glimpse—to see the child he now knew was his. And yet, each time she called him "Uncle," a part of him shattered.
Maika stood quietly beside him, arms crossed as she observed the two from the veranda. There was a knowing glint in her eyes, a heaviness in her voice when she finally spoke.
"She knows," Maika murmured.
Caveen blinked, still focused on Elara. "What do you mean?"
"Elara," Maika said gently, "She senses it. The bond. Children like her, with blood like ours, they don't need to be told. Her aura shifts every time you're near, Caveen. She looks for your approval. She laughs louder when you smile."
Caveen's jaw tightened. "But she doesn't say anything."
"She's waiting," Maika whispered, placing a hand on his arm. "But she won't wait forever. You need to talk to Lysandra, ask her to let Elara know the truth—from her mother, not a stranger."
Caveen turned away, the air feeling thicker suddenly. "You think she'll agree to that? After all we've been through?"
Maika looked him dead in the eyes. "This isn't about you. Or her. It's about Elara. She deserves to know who her father is. Not just some 'uncle' who visits, then disappears again."
He closed his eyes, the weight of guilt settling like a cloak over his shoulders. "She'll hate me."
"No," Maika said with firm tenderness. "She'll finally have all the pieces of her world come together. Don't deny her that. Don't make her carry the silence you and Lysandra chose."
Caveen's gaze drifted once more to Elara as she spun in the sunlight, her hair gleaming like Lysandra's, her smile shaped like his own.
"I'll talk to her," he whispered.
Maika nodded slowly. "Do it for Elara. Do it before it's too late."
Caveen stayed at the Landon Manor longer than he planned.
Three more days passed in a blur of laughter, bedtime stories, and little hands pulling at his coat. Elara clung to him like morning dew to leaves, and each time she called him Uncle Caveen, his heart bled a little more.
He memorized every detail—the way she wrinkled her nose when she pouted, the sound of her sleepy hums when he carried her to bed, the flutter in her aura when she smiled at him like he was her whole world.
He'd watch her fall asleep and whisper, "Someday, you'll know who I really am… and I'll be worthy of hearing you call me 'Daddy.'"
Maika watched silently, knowing Caveen's resolve was building. She didn't push—she didn't need to. The longer he stayed, the clearer his choice became.
On the third night, after tucking Elara in, Caveen stood at her bedside a little longer. She stirred, her tiny fingers brushing his sleeve.
"Uncle… don't go again."
The words hit him like a blade.
"I'll come back," he whispered, brushing her hair back gently. "But I need to do something first. Something very important."
He turned and left her room with a heaviness in his chest. Downstairs, Maika waited at the door, holding his coat.
"You're going, aren't you?" she said softly.
Caveen nodded, jaw set. "It's time. Lysandra and I… we need to end this silence."
"She'll fight you," Maika warned. "She's guarded. Angry."
"So am I," Caveen murmured. "But I'm more tired than anything. I'm tired of pretending I'm not her father."
Maika held his gaze for a moment longer, then offered a faint smile. "Then go. But remember—whatever happens, don't let your pride speak louder than your heart."
Caveen nodded, turned, and stepped into the night. The sleek black car waiting at the end of the path roared to life as he slid in.
Destination: Ravenshade.
And this time, he wasn't leaving until the truth was laid bare.
----
The dark clouds loomed above as Caveen's car wound through the mountain pass that led to Ravenshade. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than usual. The silence in the car wasn't peaceful—it was heavy, tense. This wasn't just another visit. He had made up his mind: it was time to confront Lysandra, not in anger, but in truth. He had rehearsed the words, even if they would burn coming out.
But as he turned the final bend and Ravenshade Fortress came into view, something felt off. The front gates were open, and shadows flickered in the torchlight along the high walls. His instincts flared. Something was wrong.
The moment he stepped out of the car, the wind hit him—sharp, urgent, like it carried a warning. And then he saw Alaric.
The vampire lord was descending the stone steps two at a time, his long coat flaring behind him like wings. His expression was tight, jaw clenched, eyes dark with urgency.
"Caveen!" Alaric called out.
Caveen straightened. "Where is she?"
Alaric didn't waste time with greetings. "Lysandra's missing. She left sometime last night. No one has seen or sensed her since."
The air around them dropped in temperature. Caveen's voice turned cold. "What do you mean missing? You didn't sense her aura?"
Alaric shook his head. "Her wards were still intact until dawn. Then they dropped, all at once. It was like she cloaked herself entirely."
Caveen stormed past him, entering the fortress. The walls echoed with footsteps and hushed voices. Carlos appeared at the end of the hall, Seraphine beside him, her hand clutched over her heart.
"We were going to tell you, but we didn't expect her to vanish so suddenly," Carlos explained, looking torn between guilt and concern.
"What happened?" Caveen demanded. His voice was steel.
Seraphine stepped forward. "She was... off, the past few days. Quieter. Restless. I thought it was because of you."
Caveen turned away, pacing. He had hoped to end the silence between them, to ask her to tell Elara the truth. And now? She was gone.
"She wouldn't just leave," he muttered. "Not without reason. Not without Elara."
Carlos nodded. "That's why we think this is something else. Maybe she was tracking something. Or someone."
Alaric added, "There was a torn page in one of her spellbooks. She took it. And a vial of Phoenix ash from the vault. That isn't a casual trip. That's desperation."
Caveen's hands curled into fists. "She's going after the Council, isn't she?"
Everyone went silent.
Seraphine finally said, "That would be suicide. Even Lysandra knows that."
Caveen exhaled hard, trying to think. The last time they spoke, they hadn't even spoken—they had touched, kissed, fought, surrendered. Weeks of silence in daylight and fire at night. The pain was still raw. But that didn't mean he wanted her to disappear.
He turned to Alaric. "Track her. You're the only one who might be able to break through her cloaking."
Alaric gave a nod. "I've already started. But if she used a teleportation gate outside the warded zone, it may take hours."
Caveen stared at the empty corridor that led to her chambers.
"I'm going to her room," he said quietly.
Alaric stepped aside. "Be prepared. She left nothing behind."
But he had to see.
The room smelled faintly of lavender and smoke. The window was open, curtains fluttering. Her bed was made. Drawers empty. But when he stepped inside, he noticed something on the desk. A single note, folded.
His name was written on it.
Caveen.
His heart pounded as he unfolded the paper. Her handwriting danced across the parchment like a whisper:
I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't find the words. Every time you looked at me, I felt them, burning on my tongue, but I swallowed them like poison. I loved you. I still do. But I can't keep pretending I'm strong enough to face your hatred. I have something to do. If I don't come back... protect our daughter.
Caveen closed his eyes. Rage and pain crashed together like waves in his chest.
"Damn it, Lysandra."
The door creaked open behind him. Carlos.
"We're preparing a search party," he said quietly.
Caveen didn't look up. "I'm going after her. Alone."
Carlos sighed. "We knew you'd say that. Just don't die. Elara's already lost one parent once. Don't let it happen again."
Caveen finally stood, letter clenched in his hand. There was no more time to waste.
He would find her.
Or burn the world trying.