Chapter 25 – Mother's Murder

The papers trembled in Ela's hands as she read them again and again, hoping that the words would change, hoping that she had misread, hoping that any of this was a nightmare she could wake up from. But the words stayed the same. Black ink on yellowed paper, sharp and unforgiving. Her mother had not been exiled. Her mother had not been allowed to flee to Istanbul to raise her child in peace. Her mother had been hunted, caught, and killed. The termination order had been executed eighteen months ago, not by the Shadowborn as Thorne had believed, but by a single man acting on behalf of the Council. A man whose name appeared at the bottom of the page, signed in ink that had turned brown with age. Friedrich Brandt. Lukas's father.

Ela could not breathe. She was sitting on the cold stone floor of the archive room, her back against a shelf of ancient books, the papers spread across her lap. Thorne stood nearby, his gray eyes fixed on her face, watching for the moment she would break. He had seen this before. He had felt this before. The moment when the truth destroyed everything you thought you knew about your life, your family, your place in the world. He did not speak. He did not offer comfort. There was no comfort to offer. There was only the truth, cold and sharp and unforgiving, and the long, dark road ahead.

Ela looked up at him. Her eyes were dry. Her voice was steady. She had cried so much in the past weeks that she had no tears left. The grief was there, deep in her chest, but it was buried beneath something harder. Something colder. Something that felt like rage. They told me she ran away, Ela said. They told me she chose exile to protect me. They let me believe that she was alive somewhere, that I could see her again, that I could apologize for not calling, for not visiting, for not being the daughter she deserved. But she was already dead. She was already dead, and they let me go on believing that she was not.

Thorne knelt in front of her. His voice was low, careful. The Council has been lying about your mother for decades. They lied about her relationship with the headmaster. They lied about her pregnancy. They lied about her escape. The truth is that she was too dangerous to be left alive. She knew too much. She had seen too much. And when she refused to give you up, they decided that she had to die.

Lukas's father killed her, Ela said. It was not a question. It was a statement of fact, flat and hollow. Friedrich Brandt murdered my mother. And Lukas has known about it his whole life.

Thorne nodded. The Brandt family has been collecting secrets for centuries. Friedrich is the head of the Council's enforcement division. He is the one they send when they need someone to disappear. Your mother was not his first. She will not be his last.

Ela looked down at the papers again. There were photographs too, tucked between the pages. Black and white images of her mother in the academy, young and beautiful and full of life. Images of her mother in Istanbul, older and tired but still smiling. And one image that Ela could not look at for more than a second. Her mother's body, lying on a cold stone floor, her eyes closed, her face peaceful. The caption at the bottom read: Termination complete. Subject Leyla Kaya neutralized.

Ela closed the file. She could not look at that photograph again. She could not look at her mother's dead face and remain sane. So she closed her eyes and took a deep breath and forced herself to think. To plan. To survive. Why did Lukas bring me here? she asked. Why did he pretend to help me? Why did he offer to break the curse?

Thorne sat back on his heels. His gray eyes were dark, shadowed. Lukas does not want to break the curse, he said. He wants to use it. The curse is tied to the bond. The bond is tied to the Volkov bloodline. If the curse kills you, the bond dies. And if the bond dies, Nikolai dies with it. His power, his inheritance, his entire bloodline. Everything the Volkovs have built over centuries will crumble.

Ela shook her head. That doesn't make sense. Lukas said he could transfer the bond. He said his family was immune to the curse. He said he could save me.

Lukas lies, Thorne said flatly. It is what he does. It is what his family has always done. He does not want to save you, Ela. He wants to possess you. He wants to use you as a weapon against Nikolai. And when he is done with you, he will discard you. Just like his father discarded your mother.

Ela felt something inside her crack. Not break. Not yet. But crack. The wall she had built around her heart, the armor she had crafted to protect herself from the pain, the lies, the betrayals. It was cracking. And through the cracks, the rage was seeping in. Hot and bright and hungry. Lukas used me, she said. He pretended to care about me. He pretended to want to help me. But all along, he was just using me to get to Nikolai.

Thorne nodded. He approached you on the bus. He warned you about Nikolai. He kissed you. He blackmailed you. He offered you sanctuary. Every step of the way, he was manipulating you. Every kind word, every gentle touch, every promise of protection. It was all a performance. A mask. And now that mask is starting to slip.

Ela stood up. Her legs were shaking, but she did not fall. Her hands were trembling, but she did not drop the file. She tucked the papers into her jacket, close to her heart, close to the photograph of her mother that she had carried since the headmaster gave it to her. I need to see him, she said. I need to look him in the eye. I need to make him say it.

Thorne stood too. He reached out and placed his hand on her arm. His grip was firm, grounding. If you confront him now, he said, he will deny everything. He will twist your words. He will make you doubt yourself. That is what he does. That is what he has always done.

I don't care, Ela said. I don't care if he denies it. I don't care if he twists my words. I need to see his face. I need to watch him lie to me one more time. And then I need to walk away. I need to show him that he cannot control me anymore.

Thorne studied her face for a long moment. Then he nodded and stepped back. Be careful, he said. Lukas is more dangerous than you know. He has been planning this for years. He will not give up easily.

Ela walked out of the archive room without looking back. Her footsteps echoed on the stone stairs, loud and steady. The corridors were empty. The students were in class. The guards were elsewhere. She walked through the academy like a ghost, unseen, unheard, unnoticed. She knew where Lukas would be. He was always in the library at this time of day, sitting in his chair by the window, reading his books, pretending to be civilized.

The library was quiet when she entered. The few students who were there looked up when she passed, then looked away. They had learned to fear her. They had learned to stay out of her way. She walked to Lukas's corner, her boots silent on the thick carpet, and stopped in front of his chair.

He looked up from his book. His green eyes widened for just a moment, surprised to see her. Then the smile spread across his face, warm and welcoming, as if she were an old friend dropping by for tea. Ela, he said. I wasn't expecting you. You look terrible. Have you been sleeping?

Ela did not smile. She did not speak. She just stood there, looking at him, looking through him, looking at the mask he wore and the monster beneath. Her hand was in her jacket, wrapped around the file, around the truth. She pulled it out and dropped it on his lap.

Lukas looked down at the papers. His smile faltered. His green eyes flickered. He knew what it was. Of course he knew. He had probably seen these papers before, in his father's study, in the hidden room behind the bookshelf, in the secret places where the Brandt family kept their trophies. Where did you get this? he asked. His voice was calm, but there was something underneath it. Something sharp. Something dangerous.

It doesn't matter where I got it, Ela said. What matters is what's in it. What matters is that your father murdered my mother. What matters is that you knew. You have always known. And you lied to me.

Lukas closed the file. He set it on the table beside his chair, careful and precise, as if it were nothing more than a stack of unimportant papers. His green eyes met hers. His expression was unreadable. Ela, he said, you have to understand. The world is not simple. The Council does what it must to protect the bloodlines. Your mother was a threat. She had information that could have destroyed everything we have built over centuries.

She was a woman, Ela said. She was a mother. She was trying to protect her child. And your father killed her for it. Your father murdered her in cold blood, and you helped him cover it up. You helped him lie. You helped him pretend that she had run away, that she was still alive, that she had abandoned me.

Lukas stood up. He was taller than her. Broader. Stronger. He could have hurt her. He could have made her disappear, just like her mother. But he didn't. He just stood there, looking at her with those green eyes, and said, I was a child when your mother died. I had no part in it.

You had every part in it, Ela said. You knew. You grew up knowing. You could have told me the truth when I arrived. You could have warned me about your father. You could have helped me. But you didn't. You used me. You manipulated me. You pretended to care about me so you could get close to Nikolai.

Lukas's jaw tightened. His hands clenched at his sides. Nikolai, he said, his voice dripping with contempt. Always Nikolai. You cannot see past him, can you? You cannot see that he is just as guilty as my father. His family knew about the termination order. His father voted to have your mother killed. The Volkovs are not innocent, Ela. They are just better at hiding their crimes.

Ela shook her head. I don't care about the Volkovs. I don't care about the Council. I don't care about any of it. I care about my mother. I care about the truth. And the truth is that your family murdered her. Your family has been lying about it for years. And you have been lying to me since the moment we met.

Lukas stepped closer. His green eyes were hard, cold, nothing like the warm, caring gaze he had shown her before. The mask was slipping. The monster was showing. Everything I have done, he said, I have done to protect you. To save you. To give you a future.

You have done everything to destroy Nikolai, Ela said. I was just a tool. A weapon. A means to an end.

Lukas reached out and grabbed her arm. His grip was too tight, his fingers digging into her skin. You are not a tool, he said. You are not a weapon. You are the key to everything. The curse, the bond, the Volkov bloodline. It all flows through you. And I will not let you throw yourself away on a boy who does not deserve you.

Ela looked down at his hand on her arm. Then she looked up at his face. The mask was gone. The green eyes were cold. The smile was a snarl. This was the real Lukas. This was the monster behind the mask. Let go of me, she said.

Lukas did not let go. Not yet, he said. Not until you listen. Not until you understand.

I understand everything, Ela said. I understand that you are just like your father. I understand that you will do anything to get what you want. I understand that you never cared about me. You only cared about what I could give you.

Lukas's grip tightened. His face was inches from hers. You think you know me? he said. You think you know what I have done, what I have sacrificed, what I have endured? I have been waiting for you my whole life, Ela. Watching you from afar. Learning about you. Preparing for you. And I will not let Nikolai Volkov take you from me.

Ela looked into his eyes. She was not afraid. She was not angry. She was something else. Something colder. Something harder. Something that had been forged in the fire of betrayal and loss and grief. You don't get to choose me, she said. You don't get to claim me. You don't get to decide my future. My mother died so I could be free. And I will not let you take that freedom away.

She pulled her arm free. Lukas let her go. He stepped back, his chest heaving, his green eyes wild. He looked like a man who had lost control and was trying desperately to find it again. You will come back to me, he said. You will see the truth. Nikolai cannot save you. The curse is killing you. And I am the only one who can stop it.

Ela turned and walked away. She did not look back. She did not say goodbye. She just walked, her boots echoing on the stone floor, her heart pounding in her chest. The papers were still in her jacket. The truth was still in her hands. And Lukas's voice followed her down the corridor, cold and certain.

You will come back, Ela. They always come back.

She kept walking. She did not look back. She did not stop. She walked until she reached her room, until she locked the door behind her, until she slid down to the floor with her back against the wood and her mother's file clutched to her chest. And there, in the darkness, alone with the truth, Ela Demir finally cried.