Chapter Seventeen — The Assassin’s Warning

The message on my phone should have frightened me more than it did.

THE NEXT PHASE REQUIRES PHYSICAL UNION.

Instead, anger came first.

Cold, clear, and almost welcome.

Someone had spent years tracking my cycles, manipulating my medication, measuring my response to Ronan, and reducing every private thing about my body to a sequence of phases.

I was done being treated like a subject.

Ronan took the phone from my hand and read the message again.

His jaw hardened.

“This ends now.”

Elias gave a bitter laugh.

“That is what people always say when Cradle notices them.”

Ronan looked at him.

“Then tell me how to stop it.”

The wounded attacker groaned near the wall.

Marcus had tied his wrists with a strip torn from a medical restraint, but the man was still conscious.

Barely.

Ronan’s blood continued to run from the cut along his forearm.

I tried not to look at it.

My body had other ideas.

His scent had changed after the injury.

Sharper.

Warmer.

The blood on my wrist seemed to pulse against my skin even though I knew that was impossible.

The heat inside me had become unbearable.

Not the wild collapse I had feared earlier.

Something worse.

Focused.

Directed.

Every instinct in me seemed to know exactly where Ronan was standing.

I wiped the blood from my wrist with the edge of my sleeve.

The reaction barely changed.

Elias noticed.

“You need distance from him.”

Ronan looked at me immediately.

“I can leave.”

“No.”

The answer came too fast.

Everyone heard it.

I hated that.

I forced my voice back under control.

“I mean we cannot separate while armed men are looking for us.”

Ronan’s eyes held mine for half a second longer than necessary.

“Of course.”

Elias did not look convinced.

Neither was I.

A burst of gunfire sounded somewhere beyond the corridor.

Marcus turned toward the hidden tunnel.

“We move now.”

Ronan hauled the injured attacker upright.

The man laughed weakly.

“You think the tunnel gets you out?”

Ronan tightened his grip.

“It only needs to get us far enough away to question you properly.”

That shut him up.

Elias entered first.

Marcus followed with the attacker.

I stepped toward the opening.

Ronan caught my arm gently.

Not enough to restrain me.

Enough to stop me.

“You sure you can walk?”

I looked at his hand on me.

The heat surged.

I pulled away.

“Do not make me regret letting you come this far.”

His expression almost softened.

“You already regret it.”

“Constantly.”

We entered the tunnel.

The air was damp and stale.

Old utility pipes ran along the ceiling, and shallow water covered parts of the concrete floor.

The passage sloped downward before turning sharply beneath another building.

Elias moved quickly despite his injuries.

“How far?”

Marcus asked.

“Four hundred meters.”

“To where?”

“An old loading station.”

Ronan glanced behind us.

“Still usable?”

“It was when I escaped.”

“Which was how long ago?”

“Twelve years.”

Ronan looked at me.

“Excellent.”

I almost smiled.

Then the attacker stumbled.

Marcus caught him.

The man coughed blood onto the floor.

Ronan stopped.

“He is deteriorating.”

“Good,” I said.

Marcus looked at me.

I met his gaze.

“This man came here to retrieve me like property. Forgive me if sympathy is difficult.”

The attacker laughed through the pain.

“You think I matter?”

I turned.

“You matter enough to answer questions.”

“No.”

His eyes found mine.

“I am disposable.”

Ronan stepped closer.

“Then you have nothing to lose by talking.”

The man’s smile vanished.

“You don’t understand what you are carrying.”

My stomach tightened.

“What do you mean?”

He looked at me strangely.

Then at Ronan.

“Not yet.”

Ronan grabbed his collar.

“Explain.”

The attacker shook his head.

“The program was never about making one heir.”

Elias stopped walking.

His face changed.

“What did you say?”

The man looked toward him.

“O-11.”

Elias went pale.

“You know me.”

“We know all survivors.”

Ronan pushed the man against the tunnel wall.

“What was the program about?”

The attacker laughed weakly.

“Continuity.”

“That means nothing.”

“It means the families were dying.”

I frowned.

“What families?”

“Old bloodlines.”

“The Vales?”

“The Ashcrofts?”

The man looked at Ronan.

“Among others.”

Elias stepped forward.

“Cradle believed certain bloodlines were becoming infertile.”

The attacker smiled.

“Believed?”

Elias went silent.

The man looked at me.

“They proved it.”

My heat seemed to disappear beneath the chill that moved through me.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You were the correction.”

Ronan’s expression turned dangerous.

“Choose your words carefully.”

“I am dying. Your threats have limited value.”

He coughed again.

More blood.

Then he looked directly at me.

“O-17 was not selected because he could carry a child.”

My pulse slowed.

“He was selected because his offspring could restore the line.”

Elias whispered something I could not hear.

Ronan asked, “Restore what?”

The attacker opened his mouth.

Then stopped.

A strange expression crossed his face.

His body stiffened.

Marcus grabbed him.

“What is happening?”

The man began convulsing.

Ronan caught his jaw.

“Poison?”

Elias moved closer.

“There may be something implanted.”

The attacker’s eyes rolled back.

Ronan searched his collar and neck.

His fingers stopped behind the man’s ear.

“There.”

A tiny swelling sat beneath the skin.

Elias swore.

“Remote capsule.”

Marcus stared.

“You mean they poisoned him from a distance?”

“Yes.”

The attacker gasped.

His eyes suddenly focused again.

On me.

Not Ronan.

Me.

He grabbed the front of my shirt with surprising strength.

Ronan reached for him.

I raised a hand.

“Wait.”

The man pulled me closer.

His breath smelled metallic.

His voice had become barely more than air.

“Your mother.”

My heart stopped.

“What about her?”

His fingers tightened.

“She knew.”

“About Cradle?”

His eyes filled with terror.

“More.”

“What does that mean?”

He tried to speak.

Nothing came.

I leaned closer.

“Tell me.”

His lips moved.

“She chose—”

His body jerked violently.

Ronan caught him.

The man’s grip slipped from my shirt.

“No,” I said. “Stay with me.”

His breathing became shallow.

I grabbed his shoulder.

“What did my mother choose?”

The attacker’s eyes opened one last time.

He looked at me with something almost like pity.

Then whispered,

“You.”

Silence.

I stared at him.

“What?”

He swallowed painfully.

“She chose you.”

His chest rose.

Fell.

Then stopped.

Marcus checked his pulse.

Nothing.

Ronan released him slowly.

The man collapsed against the tunnel wall.

Dead.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

I looked at Elias.

“What did he mean?”

Elias shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

“You are lying.”

“I know pieces. Not this.”

Ronan watched him.

“Then start giving us the pieces.”

Elias looked at me.

“There were rumors.”

“What rumors?”

“That some mothers volunteered.”

My chest tightened.

“Volunteered for what?”

“The embryo selection process.”

I stopped breathing.

Ronan went still beside me.

Elias continued carefully.

“Cradle did not always take children from families. Some families came to Cradle because they wanted a specific kind of child.”

The tunnel suddenly felt too small.

“My mother wanted an Alpha.”

“That would make sense.”

“But I was an Omega.”

Elias looked at me.

“Maybe designation was never the trait she selected.”

I stared at him.

“What was?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

A vibration came from my pocket.

My phone.

I froze.

Ronan looked at me.

“No signal down here.”

“There shouldn’t be.”

I pulled it out anyway.

One message had arrived.

No number.

No photograph.

Just text.

HE TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR MOTHER.

Another appeared immediately.

GOOD.

My blood went cold.

Then came a third.

ASK HER WHY SHE REJECTED THE FIRST CHILD.

I stared at the screen.

Ronan read over my shoulder.

Elias whispered, “First child?”

My hands went numb.

I had no sibling.

I had never had one.

My mother had suffered miscarriages before me.

That was what I had been told.

Then the final message appeared.

AND ASK WHAT SHE DID WITH YOUR BROTHER.