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Thirty-Three
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2025-11-09 02:00:00*The Old Man*
The Old Man clawed his way out of the rubble, coughing blood, his cane long lost. The once-pristine white of his coat was now scorched and gray, the gold insignia of the Society half-melted against his chest.
He stumbled to his feet among the ruins of the Institute’s grand hall — what had once been his throne of science and divinity. Now it was nothing but twisted metal, charred stone, and the smell of burned flesh.
The golden light still flickered through the cracks in the earth, pulsing like a heartbeat. Her heartbeat.
He stared at it, trembling. “Impossible…” he rasped.
He had seen power before — weapons of faith, relics of gods, the Ascension prototypes that had broken men in half. But nothing like this. Blaire hadn’t simply
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Hunter/Hunted Thirty-Nine
*BLAIRE*The cottage was quiet except for the sound of the fire.Outside, snow fell in lazy, silent flakes, blurring the forest beyond the window.Blaire sat on the floor near the hearth, legs drawn close to her chest, hair tangled around her face. The baby slept in the cradle beside her — his breathing soft and steady, a rare peace in the weeks since they’d found her.Sebastian watched from the doorway.He hadn’t dared come too close since they brought her home. Every time he tried, she flinched. Every time he spoke, she turned away.But tonight, something was different.Her eyes weren’t wild. They were distant, but calm — focused on the flames.He st
Hunter/Hunted Thirty-Eight
*MARLOW*The night pressed close around the carriage as it creaked to a halt before the iron gates.Marlow stepped out, boots crunching over frost. His coat was torn, his face half-hidden beneath the hood, and his eyes burned with a sleepless, feverish fire.He had walked through the ruins of the Institute. He had seen the ash, the corpses, the pit where power once lived.Now he was here — at the edge of another darkness.The manor before him rose like a cathedral carved from rot and shadow. Iron balconies, high-arched windows, and the faint, sweet smell of death leaking from every crack.Marlow wasn’t here for comfort. He was here to make a deal with the devil.
Hunter/Hunted Thirty-Seven
*The Old Man*The carriage rocked unevenly over the broken road, its wheels cutting through the mud like bones through flesh.Rain lashed the black fields beyond, the world outside washed gray and lifeless under the low clouds.Inside, the old man sat alone.He had discarded his ruined coat hours ago, its edges burned and stiff with ash. His right hand was wrapped in bandages that were already soaked through with blood, the result of dragging himself through the rubble of what had once been the Institute.The smell of smoke still clung to him.Every breath he took tasted like fire and failure.Across from him, on the seat opposite, lay a small wooden case — iron cla
Hunter/Hunted Thirty-Six
*SEBASTIAN*The fire popped softly, scattering sparks that drifted up the chimney.He thought of the others — Theo, who worked tirelessly without complaint; Xavia, whose calm strength kept the house from collapsing under the weight of grief; and Charles, who’d somehow become both enemy and ally in the same breath.They were all holding on in their own ways.But Sebastian’s world had narrowed to this room —to the sound of Blaire’s breathing,to the heartbeat of their son,to the promise that someday, she might look at him and remember his name.He closed his eyes, exhaustion finally pulling at him.
Hunter/Hunted Thirty-Five
*XAVIA*The fire had burned low, throwing long amber light across the study. Outside, the rain had returned, whispering against the windows like breath.Charles sat in his chair, boots still damp from the stables, the smell of smoke and horses clinging to him. Xavia was curled up on the couch nearby, wrapped in a shawl, a soft hand resting against her rounded stomach.She was far along now — her pregnancy steady, her steps slower. The child would come any day.For the first time in weeks, the house was still. Blaire was asleep upstairs with her baby; Sebastian had finally dozed off in a chair beside her. Theo had retired to his quarters. The quiet felt fragile — like if they breathed too loud, it would shatter.Xavia broke it first. “You should be
Hunter/Hunted Thirty-Four
*SEBASTIAN*The night was heavy with rain and the scent of pine. The wheels of the carriage groaned against the soaked earth, iron rims hissing through mud and puddles. The horses’ flanks shone slick in the lantern light, their breath rising in pale clouds with every labored step.No one spoke.Charles sat at the front reins, his shoulders stiff beneath his coat, the brim of his hat dripping rain. Every flick of the reins was measured, cautious. The forest path was narrow, rutted, and treacherous in the dark.Behind him, the carriage rocked with every rut and turn.Sebastian sat inside, cradling Blaire against his chest. She was wrapped in a thick wool cloak, still shivering even with the blankets around her. Her skin was cold and damp, her hair cli
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