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Chapter 37 Mine Alone
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2026-06-01 22:53:35The storm battered the outer barrier.
None of it reached the palace.
The Leviathan's forward gangway locked onto the Blackrock ruins with a metallic clang. Vivienne stepped off the warship.
Ahead, a half-buried palace lay frozen under a century of ice.
The Elders’ most secret residence.
No steel.
No machinery. No sign of the modern world. Only dark-gold stone carvings, heavy blast-proof lead, ancient grandeur.Several mercenaries stepped forward.
Alexander stopped.
Without warning.
He turned.
The red in his eyes still glowed.
Pressure slammed the corridor.
The assistant froze mid-step.
All rifles hung uselessly. No one dared breathe.Vivienne said nothing.
That was permission enough.Alexander limped toward the control wall.
His damaged right leg dragged. Every movement deliberate.He seized the manual lock lever.
Pulled.Metal screamed.
A thunderous roar shook the palace as the alloy gate slammed shut. Over a meter thick. The door crashed into its housing. The floor trembled.Signals died.
Surveillance vanished. The palace became an isolated kingdom.A place where only one will mattered.
Silence followed.
No alarms. No waves. Only Alexander's breathing. Rough. Uneven.He lowered his eyes.
Tactical suit shredded. Rotting flesh bulged through torn fabric. Dark purple fluid seeped from infected tissue around his chest. The smell was foul—blood, decay, something unhuman.His shoulders tightened.
Almost instinctively.Then he stepped backward.
Once. Twice. Until his heel struck a stone pillar. Half a meter—the space he forced between them.The hands that had torn apart nuclear submarines stayed pressed to his thighs.
Gaze fixed on his boots. Not her face. Not her body. Her shoes. Clean. Untouched. Not a drop of filth from him could stain them.Outside, the air crystallized.
Frost raced across stone. Temperature plummeted. Alexander didn’t control it. His presence spread like a living barrier. A warning. An invisible wall.Several retired soldiers tried to step forward.
Their knees buckled. Ice exploded beneath them. They stared at the closed gate in horror.Inside, the master suite stretched vast.
Sandalwood furniture from another century. At its center, a sunken white-jade bath.Alexander crossed the room without a word.
Stopped at the fireplace. Picked up a hardwood log nearly half his height. Crack. It split apart in his hands. He threw it into the furnace. Flames rose. Warmth pushed back the polar cold.Then he approached the bath.
Every step careful. Measured.The same hands that had torn apart creatures weighing hundreds of tons reached for the brass valves.
Water surged in. Steam curled upward.He crouched.
Hand pressed the surface. Nothing. Cold. Pain stabbed his chest. Twice. Three times. Still too cold. Again. Finally—perfect.He straightened.
Head lowered. Silent. Retreating behind a thin embroidered screen. His massive frame disappeared into the shadows. Trying to be invisible. Trying to take up no space.Vivienne didn’t glance at him.
She shrugged off the bloodstained suit jacket. Dropped it. Soft rustle echoed through the silent palace.Behind the screen, Alexander flinched.
Vivienne stepped into the bath.
Water climbed her legs. Steam wove around her shoulders.“I didn’t dismiss you.”
Cold. Precise. “Keep your hearing open.”The sound of water rippling cut through him.
Each splash a blade. A torture.Thousands of miles away, European executives made one final attempt.
Hidden sonar probes activated underground. Signals penetrated the rock. Searching. Listening.Alexander’s eyes narrowed.
Someone was listening. To her.That thought alone sent his mutated tissue convulsing.
His chest pulsed violently. A high-frequency wave erupted. The sonar signal slammed back.European Headquarters.
Screens exploded. Glass scattered. Executives screamed. Blood poured from ears and eyes. Some collapsed outright. No one touched another device.Inside the palace, steam curled.
Vivienne leaned on the jade edge. A light screen projected above her wrist. Encrypted lines flashed. Zero Protocol. Decrypting. Fast. Faster.Outside the screen, Alexander dropped to one knee.
Eyes locked. Every movement of her beyond the silk screen captured him. Each water ripple—a torment.Breathing ragged.
Veins bulged. Red deepened. Savage instincts clawed up.Vivienne spoke.
“Pain response during skeletal reconstruction. Level Three.” “Cardiac mutation removal rate. Seventy percent.”Silence.
The words struck deeper than any weapon.
From the original Lazarus files. Records that should have burned. The monster beneath the human skin. Exposed.A broken sound escaped his throat.
Body moved before thought.He crawled forward.
Half his body crossed the screen. Hands slammed the jade edge. Fingernails split. Black blood dripped. Still he didn’t touch the water.Inches away.
Suspended. Eyes red. Breathing hard. Terrified to pollute her bath.Vivienne didn’t flinch.
She extended her hand. Droplets slid down pale fingers. She grasped his trembling jaw. Firm.“Stop trembling.”
Eyes locked on his. Cold. Absolute. “Monster or not, you are mine.”The words landed like a verdict.
Alexander’s tension collapsed. Madness drained away. Slowly, he closed his eyes. Black blood stained her hand. He pressed his face into her palm. Motionless.The invisible pulse shifted.
Violence vanished. Bloodlust vanished. Pressure vanished.Only submission remained.
Absolute. Complete.The pulse spread downward.
Through rock. Into the ocean floor. Ancient tentacles withdrew into the abyss. One after another. Silent worship.Across Siberia, warnings flipped from red to green.
Vivienne’s fingertip dripped into the water.
Ripple. Beep.“Decryption complete.”
Terminal chimed. Micro-vibrations shivered through the floor.Near the fireplace, a seamless stone wall rotated.
Dust danced. A hidden compartment emerged. Inside, an antique gramophone. Shelves of yellowed film reels.Vivienne lifted the first negative.
Dust scattered. And froze.A woman strapped to a freezing surgical table.
Motionless. Helpless. A face identical to Alexander’s.
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