Sensors

Maxwell was gone. Truly gone.

For a flickering second, a memory I had tried to bury surfaced. I remembered his laughter as a pup, high and bright. I remembered him rolling around in the dirt with Caleb and Jax, four children making a mess of the world. He used to help me in ways no one else dared, standing up to the older boys before he even knew what an Alpha was.

But as we grew, the spark in his eyes had been snuffed out, replaced by a cold, oily smugness. When the 'Heir' title finally settled on his shoulders and he was placed in the specialized Alpha section in high school, he ceased to be the boy I grew up with. He became a stranger wearing a familiar face.

Even after all the pain he’d put me through—the betrayal, the rejection, the public shaming—it was still difficult to reconcile that boy with a man capable of planning an assassination attempt on the future King.

I felt my heart finally finish breaking. It wasn't a painful snap; it was the quiet, hollow sound of letting go. I let go of the illusion that they would ever grow up, or that they would ever be held responsible for their actions by anyone other than me.

I turned to the King, my face a mask of iron.

"I think it’s best for everyone to be present during the tour," I said, my voice steady. "You might be surprised by what you find."

Beside me, Sol, Pamela, and Marcus offered nods of encouragement. They were all silent, their minds undoubtedly tracking the ghost of our escaped prisoner through those ancient, dark tunnels.

We didn't use the grand marble foyer of the Silver Tower. Instead, I led them to a nondescript service alcove on the right side of the building. With a sharp tap on a hidden panel, a seam in the wall opened to reveal a private elevator.

"My penthouse has its own independent entrance," I explained.

I stepped forward and placed my hand on a glass plate. A thin beam of blue light swept across my skin. Even the King shifted his weight, his eyes widening slightly at the speed of the interface.

"Full palm reading," I noted as the doors slid open. "Biometric encryption that resets every six hours."

As we ascended to the top floor, the silence was thick. We stepped out into the foyer of my penthouse, but before anyone could move into the living space, a soft chime rang out. A translucent red grid began to pulse from the ceiling, sweeping over us in a slow, rhythmic wave.

"Wait for the scan," I cautioned.

Marcus let out an incredulous huff, throwing his hands up. "You have got to be kidding me! A secret elevator, palm readers, an independent entrance... and now what? Security scanners? What’s next, Aella? Are you going to tell us the scan tells you if we’re carrying a bug?"

I didn't turn around, but I couldn't resist the ghost of a smirk.

"Well, yes, actually," I said calmly. "And if you have been poisoned, or cursed, or even if you've been recently blessed. It also checks for concealed weapons and unauthorized recording devices."

The grid turned a steady, approving green.

"We’re clear," I said, finally stepping into the main room. "Welcome to the only place in this kingdom where no one can hear us unless I want them to."

Sol stepped in, looking around the sleek, high-tech expanse that felt more like a command center than a home. He looked at me, a new kind of wonder in his eyes. "You've been living in the future while the rest of us are still fighting over dirt, haven't you?"

"Wait a minute," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a low, stunned register. "You’re telling me that a device—a machine—can tell you if someone has been blessed or cursed?"

I didn't answer with words. I simply tapped a few commands into my tablet and passed it to him.

The screen displayed five skeletal wireframes, each glowing with different biometric data. I pointed to the reading centered over Marcus’s own frame. "See that? That’s your Draconis heat signature. And that..." I swiped to Sol’s reading.

Marcus’s eyes nearly tripled in size. Even the King stepped forward, his breath hitching.

On the screen, a concentrated pulse of celestial white and gold was visible directly over Sol’s chest. It wasn't a physical wound or a scar; it was an energy signature that burned through the digital rendering of his clothes like a miniature star. Right next to it, on my own reading, a corresponding pulse of deep, shimmering violet glowed at my collar.

The machine had mapped the Goddess’s touch with clinical, undeniable precision.

"It’s a resonance scan," I explained, taking the tablet back. "It picks up on divine frequencies that the naked eye can't see unless the marks are exposed. It’s how I knew the Silver Ace would work on Sol—I could see his soul's baseline was reinforced."

Sol stared at the screen, his fingers unconsciously ghosting over his chest where the mark lay hidden. The realization that his secret was so easily quantified by my tech seemed to both terrify and fascinate him.

"This is why they are coming for us," I said, my expression darkening. "I suspect the Eclipse has similar technology. It might not be as miniaturized or advanced as what the Silver Pack has developed in our deep-tech labs, but it’s enough. They have sensors that allow them to 'sense' a blessing from a distance. They aren't just hunting Alphas anymore. They are hunting us—the anomalies."

The King looked from the tablet to me, his face pale. "If they can track the blessing, then nowhere is truly hidden."

"In the Imperial Tower? No," I replied, looking out the floor-to-ceiling reinforced glass at the distant mountain peaks. "But in here, I have dampeners. As long as you are in this wing, you are invisible to their sensors."