Royal Palace — 2:16 a.m.
The blackout wasn't accidental.
The palace had its own generators. Security protocols. Magical wards. Ancient bloodline seals.
None of them activated.
Because someone had already broken through from the inside.
Alina ran down the marble corridor barefoot, dressed in silk sleepwear and a blade in each hand. Kaelir was close behind her, shouting orders into a dead comm unit.
The silence was worse than alarms.
It was calculated.
They reached the wing where the twins were kept—only to find the doors open.
No guards.
No light.
No sound.
Alina didn't stop. She kicked the door open with full force—
"Auron! Riven!"
Silence.
Then a soft sob from the corner.
Alina's heart dropped.
She rushed forward and found Auron curled beneath a desk, shaking. She scooped him up, checked for wounds—he was unhurt, just terrified.
Kaelir searched the room. "Where's Riven?"
Auron stammered. "T-they took him—he tried to fight—I heard him scream—"
Alina was gone before the words finished, sprinting out of the room, slicing the air with a soundless scream.
She didn't wait for Kaelir.
---
Lower Dungeons — Abandoned Wing
The palace had places that no longer existed on official maps.
This was one of them.
Riven's voice echoed down the stone corridor. Muffled. Struggling.
Alina ran faster.
She turned the corner—and saw them.
Four masked assassins, one of them holding Riven by the collar. The child's lip was bleeding. His eye was swollen. But he looked furious, not afraid.
A proud thing. A wild thing.
He reminded her of her father.
She didn't stop running.
She leapt.
Two blades.
One throat sliced.
One heart punctured.
She grabbed Riven mid-fall, tumbled with him, rolled, landed with his small frame against her chest.
"Are you hurt?"
Riven choked out, "Just mad."
She kissed his forehead once. "That's my boy."
The last two assassins lunged.
Kaelir reached them first.
He moved like fire—unrelenting, brutal, elegant.
He disarmed one, shattered a knee, elbowed a jaw, and drove a sword into the final man's stomach.
Blood sprayed the walls.
And still, the child in Alina's arms didn't flinch.
Only when the fighting was over did Kaelir look at her—truly look.
"You were going to kill them all yourself."
"Yes."
"I don't know whether to be terrified or turned on."
Alina snorted, breathless. "You're bleeding again."
"So are you."
She looked down at her arm. A shallow cut. Didn't matter.
Nothing mattered but her son.
She turned back to Riven. "Did they say anything? Why they took you?"
Riven nodded. "He told me to tell you something."
Alina stiffened. "What?"
Riven's voice dropped. "He said… 'You should have finished the job.'"
Kaelir tensed. "Who said that?"
"He had a scar over one eye. And he said his name was… Kordas."
Alina's world tilted.
"No," she whispered. "That's not possible."
Kaelir narrowed his eyes. "You killed Aelin Kordas."
"I thought I did."
---
Elsewhere — Shadow Compound
A man sat in front of a fire, shirtless, scarred, with a line carved down from brow to cheek.
He poured wine over a stitched wound and laughed softly.
"Did you tell her I'm coming?" he asked the child soldier beside him.
"Yes, sir."
"And how did she look?"
"Like she remembered."
The man smiled.
"Good."
---
Royal Palace — Medical Wing
Later that night, the twins slept together in one bed, curled like mirror images.
Alina sat by the window, her bloodied hands wrapped in gauze, face lit only by moonlight.
Kaelir stood beside her, shirt unbuttoned, shoulder freshly bandaged.
"Talk to me," he said softly.
"I killed him," she whispered. "I felt his pulse stop."
"Then he came back from hell."
"No," Alina murmured. "He never left it. He just dragged it with him."
Kaelir reached out slowly, like touching a wild creature. His fingers brushed hers.
She didn't pull away.
"You don't have to do this alone anymore."
She looked up at him.
And said the most dangerous words of all:
"I know."