Salvatore’s name echoed in my mind, a shadowy specter of menace, intertwining the past with the present. A fragment of memory from my life as Isabelle flitted through my thoughts—a fleeting wisp just out of reach. Was there a connection? How did I know him? What secrets lay buried in the depths of history, taunting me with their elusive nature?
Despite the room’s warmth, I shivered, an urgent need rising within me to collect myself and steady the tremors as reality and dreams collided. The name Salvatore lingered, a puzzle from a long-forgotten era, demanding to be placed. My resolve solidified—I would not rest until the mysteries of my lineage and destiny were unraveled.
The chill of the night air brushed against my skin as I slipped from beneath the silken sheets, careful not to disturb Roman’s peaceful slumber. My pulse thrummed in my ears, a relentless reminder of the chaos unfurled in my dreams.
“Who is this Shadow Lord, Lazarus? And Balthazar and Zara… protectors of my past,” I murmured to myself, the words feeling foreign yet familiar on my tongue. “How very odd. Balthazar, my protector? More like my biggest enemy. And who is Zara?”
None of it made sense—the visions, the voices, the veiled threats. They wove a tapestry of confusion and unease that clung to me like a second skin.
Thirst clawed at my throat, grounding me with its raw, tangible need amidst the intangible swirl of my thoughts. Rising quietly, I padded across the room, careful to keep my steps light on the cool marble, avoiding any sound that might disturb the silence—an old habit from childhood nights spent slipping through the shadows. The estate was silent, draped in the heavy velvet of night. I descended the grand staircase with deliberate, soundless steps, the weight of unspoken secrets pressing down my shoulders.
Halfway down the staircase, a murmur of voices halted my descent. Pressing myself into the shadows, I leaned around the edge of the wall. The faint glow of a single candle illuminated two familiar figures—my mother and Mathias, locked in a hushed conversation.
“What happened in the caves today?” Mathias asked, his voice low but probing.
“Olivia saw a pit of snakes, an old man... and the moon dagger,” my mother replied, her tone laced with concern and conviction.
“Did you see this as well?” Mathias’ inquiry held a note of skepticism.
“Of course not,” Mom answered sharply. “But I know it was Lazarus. He’s protecting the moon dagger. Everything disappeared when I walked up.”
“Have patience,” Mathias said, his tone measured, almost dismissive. “It wasn’t Lazarus. He has never approached Olivia or Roman. It couldn’t have been him. She was likely imagining things.”
Shock rippled through me, sharp and piercing. How could they dismiss what I had experienced so easily? Was my mind truly playing tricks on me?
“How can you say everything is handled?” Mom asked, her voice rising with barely contained frustration. “You claim to have everyone wrapped around your finger, and now Marcellious and Reyna have returned from Raul. Lazarus appeared with his pit of snakes. Everything feels like it’s slipping out of control. Even Malik could be manipulating you, Father.”
Mathias didn’t respond.
“And Balthazar,” Mom continued, her voice trembling with anger, “he’s out of control. He just revealed all my secrets to Olivia. And worst of all, every word he said was the truth.”
Their exchange hung in the air like a toxic mist, thick and suffocating, unraveling everything I thought I knew. Secrets, lies, and betrayals were the threads binding my family together.
I pressed my back against the cool stone wall, my breaths shallow and uneven as I wrestled with the weight of their revelations. What else had been hidden from me? What other truths lay buried in the hearts of those I loved and trusted?
I had come for water, but the thirst that drove me now was far more consuming—a hunger for answers, for the truth buried beneath their layers of deceit.
My pulse hammered in my ears, a frantic drumbeat against the night’s stillness. I was a shadow within shadows, my breath a silent witness to the treachery unfolding before me. The revelation that Balthazar had spoken only truth cut through me, a betrayal sharper than any blade.
“Everything is under control,” Mathias’ voice murmured, smooth and assured yet tinged with an edge of menace. “Olivia’s mind is clouded with pregnancy. She sees threats where there are none.”
The rage bubbling within me burned cold. Clouded with pregnancy? The words echoed in my mind, igniting a silent fury that clenched my fists at my sides. How dare he?
“I have the loyalty of all the players,” Mathias continued, his confidence unnerving. “Balthazar’s recent... indiscretions will be addressed. A little more poison should keep him subdued.”
“Poison?” my mother repeated, her voice steady but tinged with something darker. “And what of Salvatore? You said his eyes see all.”
Salvatore. His name felt like a curse, coiling through my thoughts like a serpent. Another figure in this labyrinth of deceit, his presence loomed even in absence.
“He watches, yes,” Mathias replied, his voice low and malicious. “He knows our every move.”
“Does Balthazar remember, Father?” Mom asked, her words hanging heavy in the air. “His past with Olivia?”
“Impossible,” Mathias scoffed, dismissing her concern with his hand. “If he did, he’d recall everything. And we can’t allow that, can we?”
A surge of icy dread coursed through me, freezing me in place. Who was I in this intricate web of lies and manipulation? Was I merely another pawn in their insidious game?
Mathias’ body shuddered a brief tremor that seemed out of character for his otherwise composed demeanor. It was subtle, but it struck me as a crack in his armor, a fleeting glimpse of the strain beneath his facade.
