Chapter 12: What She Has Become

The interrogation room was empty now, but the air still felt wrong, thick with leftover secrets and the sour tang of fear.

I'd walked out first. Didn't look back. Apparently, that unsettled Rowan more than anything I'd said inside.

The corridor lights hummed as we moved toward the private wing. Lucien walked ahead, already absorbed in fresh data on his tablet, his mind three moves ahead like always. Elias stayed quieter than usual, his brow furrowed like he was working through a problem he didn't want to solve.

Rowan said nothing.

That was unusual.

Inside the war room, the screens stayed active. The name "Regent" glowed on the central display like a dare written in neon.

Lucien set his tablet down on the glass table with a deliberate click. "She extracted information efficiently."

It wasn't praise. It was a clinical evaluation.

Elias leaned back against the table, arms crossed. "She didn't hesitate."

Rowan finally spoke, his voice rough as gravel. "She adapted."

Lucien's eyes flicked toward him. "You disapprove?"

Rowan's jaw tightened. "I'm assessing the situation."

Lucien gave him that look, the one older brothers use when they see a truth you're trying to hide. "No. You're reacting."

Silence fell like a stone.

Elias watched them both carefully. "We trained her," he said quietly. "All of us did. We shouldn't be surprised."

Rowan's gaze hardened. "We trained her to survive a kidnapping, Elias. Not to find a rhythm in a forced interrogation."

Lucien lifted an eyebrow. "You think she enjoyed it?"

Rowan didn't answer.

The truth was too unsettling. She hadn't looked shaken when she walked out of that room. She hadn't looked haunted.

She'd looked steady. Controlled. Lethal.

Lucien folded his arms. "She was strategic. She used psychological silence instead of physical force. That's discipline."

Elias exhaled slowly. "It's also darkness."

Lucien turned to him. "Define darkness."

Elias didn't hesitate. "The part of you that stops asking whether you should and only asks whether you can."

That landed.

Rowan stared at the screen, watching the blinking cursor next to the Regent's file. "She crossed a threshold tonight."

Lucien nodded once. "Yes."

"And?" Rowan pressed.

Lucien's tone didn't waver. "And she didn't break. That makes her a survivor in this world."

Across the estate, I stood alone on the balcony outside my room.

The night air was cold and sharp, biting at my skin, but I welcomed it. My pulse had finally slowed.

The interrogation replayed in my mind in jagged fragments. The tremor in his voice. The flicker of recognition in his eyes. The moment I realized I hadn't felt a single spark of fear.

That realization unsettled me more than the prospect of war.

I wasn't sure when the shift happened. Maybe it had always been there, buried under layers of forced normalcy. Maybe being taken at three had carved a hollow space into my soul that only power could fill.

Footsteps approached quietly behind me.

I didn't turn. "Elias."

He paused beside me, leaning his elbows on the stone railing. "You always did hear everything."

We stood in silence for a long while, watching the moon hang low over the manicured trees.

"I'm not proud of it," I said suddenly.

Elias studied my profile in the moonlight. "Proud of what?"

"How easy it felt." The honesty surprised even me. "I didn't feel sorry for him. I felt... curious."

Elias didn't judge. That's why I'd known it was him and not the others.

"You were curious about the weight of your own power," he said quietly.

I looked at him. "Yes."

He nodded once. "That doesn't mean you're losing yourself, Ava."

"Doesn't it?"

"No." His voice was a steady anchor. "It means you're finally recognizing what you're capable of."

I exhaled a cloud of white mist into the cold air. "And you're not worried?"

He considered that carefully. "I'm worried about what this world is going to ask of you next."

I gave a faint, bitter smile. "It's been asking for twenty-one years. I think it's time I started giving my own answers."

Behind us, another presence emerged from the shadows. Lucien. He watched us for a moment before speaking.

"That was effective work tonight."

I faced him fully. "You're proud."

It wasn't an accusation. Just a fact.

Lucien didn't deny it.

"You read him perfectly," he said. "You anticipated his fear and exploited it. That's a King trait."

Elias glanced at his older brother. "She's not an asset to be used, Lucien."

Lucien's gaze didn't shift from me. "She is an asset. And she is family. In this house, those things aren't mutually exclusive."

I crossed my arms. "And which one matters more when the shooting starts?"

Lucien didn't answer right away. "That depends on the battlefield."

The answer was honest.

That made it worse than a lie.

More footsteps. Heavier this time.

Rowan.

He stopped a few feet away, not joining the circle, but not leaving it either. Just... there. Watching me with an intensity that made the air feel thin.

"You stepped forward in that room without asking for a green light," Rowan said finally.

I lifted my chin. "I didn't need permission."

"I know." His voice wasn't sharp. It was tight. Wound like a spring about to snap.

Lucien glanced between us, sensing the shift. "This isn't about authority anymore."

Rowan ignored him, eyes locked on me. "It changes things."

"How?"

"You're visible now."

"I was always visible to them, Rowan. That's why I was taken."

"No," he said softly, stepping closer. "Back then, you were protected. You were a piece on the board they were trying to steal."

I held his gaze. "And now?"

"Now you're a player."

There it was.

Not pawn. Not leverage. Player.

I didn't look away. "And that terrifies you."

His silence stretched longer than before. Lucien and Elias instinctively gave us space, the balcony suddenly feeling very small.

Finally, Rowan answered.

"Yes."

Not loud. Not dramatic. Just a jagged, honest admission that shifted the air more than anger would have.

My voice softened. "Why?"

He took another step closer—close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. "Because if you're a player," he said, his voice dropping low, "then you're a target they have to eliminate, not just capture."

My breath hitched. "I was always a target."

His eyes flickered—briefly, involuntarily—down to my mouth before locking back onto mine. "That was before you chose to fight back. Before I realized I couldn't stop you."

The meaning settled between us.

He wasn't afraid of losing a responsibility.

He was afraid of losing me.

Lucien cleared his throat lightly, shattering the moment. "We move tomorrow morning."

Business returned, but the lines had been permanently redrawn.

Elias spoke quietly. "If we hunt the Regent, this becomes open war."

Lucien nodded. "And she's part of the vanguard."

Rowan looked at me again. Not as a sister. Not as something fragile.

But as someone standing beside him. Equal. Dangerous. Unpredictable.

And that frightened him more than the Syndicate ever had.

Because war had rules.

But what he was starting to feel for me didn't.

I broke the silence. "Then stop looking at me like I'm about to shatter."

Rowan's jaw flexed. "I'm looking at you like you're about to burn."

A faint, deadly smile touched my lips. "Maybe I am."

None of them argued.

They were no longer deciding if I belonged in the game.

They were simply trying to survive the fact that I'd already won my first hand.