35.

Alina decided that she will sneak in to Caelan’s house to know his reality.

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Three Days Later

The event had ended, leaving Alina drained but restless. Her thoughts spiraled around Caelan. The accident, the vision in the library, his unshakable calm—all of it gnawed at her. She had to know what he was hiding.

Her opportunity came as it always did. At exactly 8:30 p.m., she watched from her window as Caelan’s sleek black car purred out of his driveway, disappearing into the night. She’d memorized his schedule over the past few days: he wouldn’t return until well past midnight.

Pulling on a black hoodie, Alina took a deep breath, her mismatched eyes flicking toward his mansion across the street. “Okay, Alina. You’ve got this,” she whispered, grabbing her flashlight and slipping into the cool night air.

She quietly sneaked into the mansion. Her steps light and cautious.

The house was a fortress of wealth and secrecy. Slipping through the side gate, Alina crouched low, her heart pounding as she approached the back door. It was locked, of course, but she’d anticipated that. From Jace’s forgotten repair kit, she pulled out a set of small tools.

Sweat trickled down her brow as she worked the lock, her ears straining for any sound beyond the rhythmic clicking. After what felt like an eternity, the lock gave way with a soft click.

The door creaked open, revealing a cold, dimly lit hallway. She slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

The air was heavy, carrying a strange mix of sandalwood and… metal? The silence was deafening, each step on the polished floors sending a small echo through the cavernous space.

There were too many rooms in Caelan's house and she decided to start with study room. Caelan has always been too much hiding behind that, she might find something there.

Alina found herself drawn to a heavy oak door at the end of the hall. The faint glow of a desk lamp spilled through the gap, casting long, flickering shadows. Pushing the door open, she stepped into the study.

The room was as grand as the rest of the house, with floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with books. But these weren’t ordinary books, they were ancient, their spines cracked with age, titles written in unfamiliar scripts. A massive desk dominated the center of the room, papers and an open laptop scattered across its surface.

What drew her attention, though, was the small, intricately carved box sitting on the desk. Its design was hypnotic, the carvings almost seeming to shift under the dim light.

Alina approached it cautiously, her fingers brushing over the cool metal. “What are you hiding, Caelan?” she murmured. She tugged at the lid, but it wouldn’t budge.

Her gaze darted to the papers on the desk. One, in particular, caught her eye—a sheet covered in elegant, unfamiliar symbols. The handwriting was smooth yet haunting, the symbols almost vibrating with some unspoken energy. She couldn’t read it, but she knew it was important.

As she reached for the paper, a faint sound made her freeze.

Footsteps.

Her blood turned cold. The sound wasn’t distant—it was close, echoing down the hallway.

He’s back.

Alina’s pulse thundered as she shoved the paper into her pocket and extinguished her flashlight. Her hands trembled as she backed into the darkest corner of the room, pressing herself against the wall.

The footsteps grew louder, deliberate, measured. Then they stopped, right outside the study door.

The door creaked open wider.

“Who’s there?” Caelan’s voice was low, calm, but it carried a razor-sharp edge.

Her chest tightened. She bit her lip, forcing herself to remain silent, unmoving.

He stepped inside, his figure outlined by the faint light. His grey eyes swept the room, his expression unreadable but predatory. He moved with the grace of a hunter, each step slow and calculated.

“I know you’re here,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper but filled with authority.

“You might as well come out.”

Alina’s nails dug into the wall behind her, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

Then his gaze stopped.

He was looking directly at her corner.

“Alina.”

Her heart stopped.

The way he said her name wasn’t a question—it was a statement. He had known it was her all along. His grey eyes darkened, an unreadable emotion flickering behind them.

“You’ve been very curious lately,” he said, stepping closer, his voice carrying a weight that made the air in the room feel heavier.

“Too curious.”

Alina’s throat went dry. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Caelan’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile as he tilted his head. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you were looking for?”

Her secret wasn’t just out, it was in the palm of his hand, just like her life.

Alina realized that she was doomed.