Thorne 
I lay down on the bed with a bottle of rum in my hand. I felt so dizzy, the rum tasted bitter already. Spice and heat burned in my throat. I heard a creak from the door, yet I was too dizzy to stand, too tired to look. My vision started to blur, but a figure of a man stood in front of me. It was blurry, and I couldn't make it out until
A cold sprinkle of water hit my face.
I flinched, blinking rapidly, and there he was—North, standing in front of me, his face painted with confusion.
“What in the fucking world happened to you, Ackerman?” he exclaimed, looking down at me.
I smirked lazily, lifting the bottle slightly. “North, join me,” I invited him.
“I took care of that man who hit Zaira’s head. I was out of town for fucking two days, Ackerman. And now you're drowning yourself in liquor?” North asked.
I glanced at the empty bottles scattered across the floor of my room. I remembered that Greta had invited me and my students for dinner, but seeing Zaira with Caden fucking hurt—like I was being punished by hell itself.
“Ah, that man, did you kill him?” I asked, smirking. I remembered that day—the man who hit Zaira in the head. I had secretly asked North to take care of it. Seeing Zaira’s terrified face, her own blood dripping onto her hands… that bastard should pay for what he did.
North sighed. “Not necessarily, but I took care of it,” he said, picking up the empty bottles littering my room.
“Put that back. I need more,” I demanded, attempting to stand, but North shoved me back down. My head burned with frustration.
“Don't you dare start a fight. Sober up if you want to know the truth behind your story and Zaira,” he said.
I froze, staring at him. North might be a jerk, but he never failed to take his job seriously.
“Seriously, man. You’re a doctor—you should know what liquor can do to you. And all this… just because of a woman?” he asked.
“She’s not just a woman, North,” I shot back, glaring at him. She was my world—the blossom that made my winter storm bearable.
A minute had passed, I was sitting in front of North in my small office, sipping warm soup. Surprisingly, I felt better—but my thoughts were still a mess, wandering aimlessly. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, just staring at an object like some lifeless creep.
“About Zaira’s family,” North said.
I paused, the spoon halfway to my mouth, my grip tightening.
“Zaira’s parents had nothing to do with your parents’ death. It was Owain’s plan from the beginning—he wanted to get rid of both families.”
My blood ran cold.
“I found a letter from your mother,” North continued. “I investigated an old post office and recovered it. Your parents and Zaira’s parents tried to protect both of you. Since you both consumed the potion, there are chemicals in your blood—chemicals that gave you talents.”
I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the desk.
“Your talent manifested early, which is why your grandfather sent you to the mortal world for safety. But Zaira’s was delayed. Her aunt, Dr. Zainab, an expert in chemicals and medicine, suppressed the reaction, preventing the ability from surfacing. But now… I suspect her talent has already awakened, and she just doesn’t realize it yet.”
A suffocating silence fell.
My chest tightened, an invisible weight pressing down on me.
I had spent days in hell, because I thought her parents were behind all of this? 
And for what?
For a lie.
A bitter laugh almost escaped me, but my throat felt too tight, burning with the weight of my mistake.
I clenched my jaw, running a shaky hand through my hair. “You’re telling me… I blamed the wrong people all this time?” My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.
I clenched my jaw. “What else do you know?” My voice came out rough, barely controlled. “Why the fuck did you give me the wrong information?”
North ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “We’ve been playing, Thorne.”
I stiffened. Something in his tone wasn’t right.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I came back as soon as I could to warn you… You have a stepbrother.”
I froze. “The hell are you talking about?”
North met my stare, unflinching. “After your mother left Owain, he found someone else. Got her pregnant.”
I let out a bitter scoff. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
“I didn’t have the proof before,” he said. “But I do now.”
I gritted my teeth. “So, what? This bastard’s out there somewhere living his own life? What does this have to do with Zaira?”
North’s expression darkened. “Owain knows, Thorne. He knows you and Zaira are alive. And he’s coming.” He let the words sink in. “Mainly for her.”
My grip tightened around the empty glass in my hand. “What do you mean ‘warned’?”
North locked eyes with me. “Caden Keegan. He’s your student, right?”
My stomach twisted. “…Yeah?”
North didn’t blink. “His real name is Caden Robert Grimes.” He let that hang in the air before finishing, “Owain’s son. Your stepbrother.”
My blood turned ice cold.
North didn’t stop. “He’s been right under your nose this whole time. Now, tell me—where the hell is he?”
My body moved on instinct, my stomach twisting as I slammed my door open. My pulse thundered in my ears. In the distance, I spotted my students, but I had no time for pleasantries.
Arlo turned to me. “Good evening, professor—”
“Where’s Caden?” I cut him off, my voice sharp, barely controlled.
The group stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances.
“Caden went home early,” Arthur said hesitantly. “Said he wasn’t feeling well.”
Shit.
“And Zaira?”
“Zaira didn’t come today.”
My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached. The world felt like it was slipping from under me.
“Call Blackwell. Tell him to get to my office. Now.” My voice left no room for argument.
Without waiting for their response, I took off, heading straight for the students’ dorm.
“What happened?” North’s voice rang from behind me.
“Caden got away.” My feet pounded against the pavement, every step a beat of dread.
Hang in there, flower.
I kicked Zaira’s door open, my heart hammering. The room was empty—papers scattered across the floor, furniture slightly displaced. My eyes darted around until they landed on one of the papers. I snatched it up. A map? An escape route. It led to a house.
“What is it?” North’s voice cut through my thoughts as he grabbed the paper from my hand.
“We’re not too late. Follow that map—she’s in danger!” I barked, already moving.
North’s eyes scanned the paper, his expression grim. “This house is up North, Ackerman. If they just left—”
He didn’t get to finish.
A deafening explosion erupted, flames bursting through the village. The ground shook, sending a violent tremor through my bones. Arrows rained from above.
“Ackerman, get down!” North shouted.
I dove for cover as chaos unfolded—screams echoing, smoke and fire swallowing the streets. My pulse pounded in my ears. Zaira.
I shut my eyes, forcing my talent to extend beyond the burning wreckage. The strain hit instantly—a splitting headache—but I pushed through. In the distance, a carriage sped away from the chaos. Zaira was inside.
“N-North… the carriage… she’s in there,” I rasped, coughing as the pain in my temple worsened.
“Ackerman! Stop using your talent like that!” North snapped, but I was already pushing forward.
We bolted through the trees, chasing after the carriage. We were close—so damn close—when Caden’s men emerged from the shadows, swords drawn.
No words were exchanged. The fight broke out instantly.
The first one lunged, blade aimed at my throat. I twisted, grabbing his wrist and yanking it sideways—a sickening crack. His scream barely left his lips before I elbowed him in the jaw, sending him to the ground.
Another came at me, swinging fast. I ducked, driving my fist into his ribs before kneeing him in the stomach. North moved beside me, his strikes brutal and efficient—cutting down anyone in our way.
We were close—so damn close.
My eyes locked onto the carriage just ahead, its wheels grinding against the dirt road. I could see her.
I pushed forward—almost there, when..
A soft sound, barely noticeable through the chaos.
Then, a burst of glittering powder from the carriage window.
Shit.
The fine mist spread too fast. My breath hitched as the magic took effect, my limbs turning sluggish.
The world tilted.
My vision darkened at the edges as my knees buckled.
No.
I forced my body to move, reaching out—but my fingers barely twitched before my strength gave out.
The last thing I saw was the carriage disappearing into the trees, taking her with it.
Then blackness.
I slowly woke up to the sound of my name being called, the voice sharp yet distant. My head throbbed, vision swimming in and out of focus before finally settling on North’s figure crouched in front of me. My body felt heavy, sluggish, but as the fog cleared, the memories crashed back into me.
The carriage—Zaira.
I bolted upright, scanning the empty forest, my pulse hammering against my skull. No sign of her. No sign of the carriage. Just silence.
“Zaira…”
“We lost them,” North said flatly.
My jaw clenched. “What.”
“The carriage is gone. We tracked it as far as we could before the attack hit. We had to regroup.”
My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my palm. “And you thought letting them escape was the best fucking plan?”
North exhaled sharply. “Thorne, you weren’t the only concern. The entire village was under siege. People were injured, homes burned. We had to split our efforts.”
His reasoning barely registered. The village had knights, soldiers—they’d survive. But Zaira… Zaira was in enemy hands, and I wasn’t there to stop it.
“I don’t care about the damn village,” I snapped. “I am not leaving without her.”
North’s eyes darkened. “You think I don’t know that? Get your head on straight. If you want to save her, we need to think, not act like a reckless idiot.”
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to push the rage down. He wasn’t wrong. I had no use for blind anger—not now.
“Fine,” I muttered. “What do we have?”
We made our way into the main village. The fires were mostly extinguished, smoke lingering in the air like a ghost. People were tending to wounds, my students assisting where they could. The knights had already started their investigation, and at the center of it all stood the village chief and his daughter, their faces worn with exhaustion.
A knight approached. “Sir, Blackwell’s been informed and is on his way.”
I nodded, my voice sharp. “What caused the explosion?”
“A combination of gunpowder and fire arrows. The attack was methodical, meant to spread fast,” the knight reported. “We were able to minimize the damage, and thankfully, no casualties.”
I barely reacted. “Any sign of the attackers?”
He shook his head. “No direct confrontation. But we found something.”
The knight handed me a wooden supply box, its side scorched but intact. My eyes narrowed at the faintly visible crest burned into the wood—one I recognized instantly.
The Grimes estate’s mark.
My grip tightened around the box. Caden. That little bastard.
North noticed it too. “Looks like we have our lead.”
A slow, dangerous smirk curled my lips. “Then let’s not waste time.”
 
“How do we find their estate?” North asked.
“I don’t know yet. Blackwell might.” I recalled the map Zaira had, the house to the north, her nightmares, and North’s story. The pieces were there, I just needed to put them together.
“North, take your men to that house.” I gestured toward the fog-covered structure in the distance.
“Got something in mind?” he asked, arms crossed.
“That house isn’t just some abandoned place. This is Zaira’s birth village. She wasn’t here to help; she was searching for answers. That house—she was ambushed there before she could learn the truth. If there’s any clue to where they took her, it’s inside.” My jaw clenched. “Find it.”
North gave a curt nod. “Copy that.” He signaled his men and moved out.
Just as I turned away, the ground shook with the force of galloping hooves. A carriage tore through the village, reckless and fast. It barely stopped before the door flew open, and a hulking figure stepped out, radiating annoyance.
“Ackerman,” Blackwell groaned, rolling his shoulders as if I’d physically burdened him. “Sometimes, I swear, I could strangle you for disturbing my peace.”
“Duty calls,” I said flatly. “They struck again, and they’ve got my woman.”
Blackwell froze mid-step. Then he turned, eyebrows shooting up so high they nearly left his face. “Hold the fuck up. Your what?”
I stayed silent, my expression unwavering.
He let out a sharp laugh. “No fucking way. You? You have a woman?” He took a step closer, sizing me up. “And don’t tell me it’s the—oh, you son of a bitch.” He ran a hand down his face, chuckling in disbelief.
“Lay it down,” I cut in, unamused. “I need you to track something.”
Blackwell exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. “You’re damn lucky I like a challenge. What do you got?”